Table of Contents

The Collected Works of Spinoza Volume I

The Collected Works of Spinoza Volume II

The Collected Works of Spinoza

Eerfte Deel
Der
Z E D E K U N S T.
V  A  N    G  O  D.
B E P A L I N G E N.

I. imagesY aoorzaak van zich zelf verfta ik het geen, welks bwezentheit cwezentlijkheit dinfluit; of het geen, welks natuur niet anders, dan ewezentlijk, bevat kan worden.

II. Datding, ’t welk door een ander van de zelfde natuur fbepaalt kan worden, word in zijn ggeflacht heindig gezegt. Tot een voorbeelt; het ilighaam word eindig gezegt; om dat wy altijt een ander, dat groter is, bevatten. Dus word ook een kdenking door een andere bepaalt. Maar ’t lighaam word door geen denking, noch de denking door enig lighaam bepaalt.

III. By lzelfftandigheit verfta ik ’t geen, dat in zich is, en door zich bevat word: dat is, welks mbevatting niet de bevatting van een anderding, van ’t welk het ngevormt moet worden, behoeft.

IV. By otoeëigening verfta ik ’t geen, dat het pverftant wegens de qzelfftandigheit, alshaar rwezentheit fftellende, tbevat.

V. By uwijze verfta ik wd’aandoeningen der xzelfftandigheit, ofdit, ’t welk in iets anders is, daar door het ook bevat word.

VI. By God verfta ik een ywezend, zvolftrektelijk aonëindig : dat is, een bzelfftandigheit, die uit conëindige toeëigeningen dbeftaat, van de welken yder een eeuwige onëindige ewezentheit uitdrukt.

a Canfa fai.

b Effentia.

c Exiftentia.

d Involvere.

e Exiftens.

f Terminare.

g Genus.

h Finita.

i Corpus.

k Cogitatie.

l Subftantia.

m Conceptus.

n Formare.

o Attributum.

p Intellectus.

q Subftantia.

r Effentia.

f Conflituens.

t Concipere.

u Modus.

w Affectiones.

x Subftantia.

y Ens.

z Abfolutè.

a Infinitum.

b Subftantia.

c Attributa infinite.

d Conflare.

e Effentia.

f VER–

THE
Collected Works
OF
SPINOZA

Edited and Translated by Edwin Curley

Copyright © 1985 by Princeton University Press
Published by Princeton University Press, 41 William Street,
Princeton, New Jersey 08540
In the United Kingdom: Princeton University
Press, Chichester, West Sussex

All Rights Reserved

Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data

Spinoza, Benedictus de, 1632-1677.
The collected works of Spinoza.
Includes bibliographies and index.
1. Philosophy—Collected works.
I. Curley, E. M. (Edwin M.), 1937- . II. Title.
B3958    1984    199′.492    84-11716
ISBN 0-691-07222-1 (v. 1 : alk. paper)

This book has been composed in Linotron Janson type

Princeton University books are printed on acid-free paper
and meet the guidelines for permanence and durability of the
Committee on Production Guidelines for Book Longevity of the
Council on Library Resources

Printed in the United States of America by
Princeton Academic Press

Second printing, with corrections, 1988
10

ISBN-13: 978-0-691-07222-7 (cloth)

ISBN-10: 0-691-07222-1 (cloth)

ALL OUR knowledge of Scripture must be sought from Scripture itself alone.… The universal rule for interpreting Scripture is that we must attribute nothing to Scripture as its teaching which we have not seen most clearly on the basis of an historical inquiry. The kind of historical inquiry I mean must … I. take account of the nature and properties of the language in which the books of Scripture were written … II. collect the doctrines of each book and so organize them that we can readily find all those that bear on the same topic; and next, note all those which are ambiguous or obscure or which seem contradictory … finally, III. tell the circumstances and fate of all the prophetic books of which we have any record: the life, dispositions and intentions of the author of each book, who he was, when and on what occasion he wrote, to whom and in what language; how the book was first received, into whose hands it fell, how many different readings there are of the text, who first accepted it as sacred, and finally how all the books now agreed to be sacred were united into one.

—Theological-Political Treatise, vii (III/99-101)

Contents

GENERAL PREFACE   ix

SHORT TITLES AND ABBREVIATIONS   xix

Earliest Works

Treatise on the Emendation of the Intellect   3

EDITORIAL PREFACE   3

THE TREATISE   7

Short Treatise on God, Man, and His Well-Being   46

EDITORIAL PREFACE   46

A SHORT OUTLINE OF THE TREATISE   53

THE TREATISE   59

Letters: August 1661–August 1663

EDITORIAL PREFACE   159

LETTERS 1-16   163-216

The Expositor of Descartes

EDITORIAL PREFACE   221

Parts I and II of Descartes’ “Principles of Philosophy”   224

Appendix Containing Metaphysical Thoughts   299

Letters: July 1664–September 1665

EDITORIAL PREFACE   349

LETTERS 17-28   352-397

The Metaphysical Moralist

EDITORIAL PREFACE   401

Ethics   408

Glossary-Index

PREFACE   621

ENGLISH-LATIN-DUTCH   624

LATIN-DUTCH-ENGLISH   661

DUTCH-LATIN-ENGLISH   702

PROPER NAMES   717

BIBLICAL AND TALMUDIC REFERENCES   719

REFERENCE LIST   721

General Preface

THIS IS the first installment of what is intended to be a two-volume edition of the complete works of Spinoza, with new translations. The project is one I have been working on, intermittently, for some fourteen years now. My aim in undertaking it has not been primarily to provide English readers with translations better than the existing ones, though I would hope, of course, to have done that. My goal, however, has been more to make available a truly satisfactory edition, in translation, of Spinoza’s work. Let me enumerate the features I regard as required in a satisfactory edition.

1. That it should provide good translations is only the most obvious, though no doubt the most important, requirement. No one should underestimate the difficulty of meeting it. By a good translation I understand one which is accurate wherever it is a question of simple accuracy, shows good judgment where the situation calls for something more than accuracy, maintains as much consistency as possible in the treatment of technical terms, leaves interpretation to the commentators, so far as this is possible,1 and, finally, is as clear and readable as fidelity to the text will allow. Anyone may be excused for thinking it enough just to provide good translations. Often we have had to settle for rather less.

2. Still, we have a right to expect more of a truly satisfactory edition. One further requirement is that its translations should be based on a good critical edition of the original texts. Of the works presented in this volume, only two, Descartes’ “Principles of Philosophy” and the Metaphysical Thoughts, were published during Spinoza’s lifetime. The Ethics, the Treatise on the Intellect, and most of the letters were first published in the Opera posthuma (OP) shortly after Spinoza’s death in 1677. The Short Treatise was discovered only in the nineteenth century, in what is generally presumed to be a Dutch translation of a lost Latin original. Inevitably these works raise many textual problems.

The first editor to produce a genuinely critical edition of the original texts was Gebhardt, whose four-volume edition of Spinoza’s Opera appeared in 1925.2 One reason Gebhardt’s work was a landmark in Spinoza scholarship is that before him no editor had systematically compared the Latin text of works like the Ethics and the Treatise on the Intellect with the contemporary Dutch translations which appeared in the other posthumous edition of 1677, De Nagelate Schriften van B.D.S. (NS). Since the translator3 of the NS appears to have been working, in part at least, from a manuscript copy, rather than from the printed text of the OP, a comparison of the two versions often helps to establish the text in doubtful cases. To see the importance of this, one need only consider how many references the geometric method forces Spinoza to make to previous axioms, definitions, propositions, etc., and how easy it is for mistakes in such references to go undetected in proofreading. But a close study of the NS translations can be useful in many ways.4

One of the principal initial reasons for undertaking this project was to provide translations based on the Gebhardt edition. When I began, Spinoza’s masterwork, the Ethics, had never been translated into English from Gebhardt’s text, though other, lesser works had been. Existing translations were based on inferior nineteenth-century editions. And though Wolf’s excellent translation of the Short Treatise had been based on a careful study of the original manuscripts, there was no doubt that his work had been superseded by Gebhardt’s.

During the time I have been working on this project, much has happened. We do now have an English translation of the Ethics based on the Gebhardt text.5 But while Gebhardt’s remains the best available complete edition of the texts, it has, in its turn, been superseded, to some extent at least, by a number of recent scholarly works. Of the developments relevant to this volume, the most notable are that: 1) in 1977 the Wereldbibliotheek published, as the first installment in a new Dutch edition of the complete works, an edition of the correspondence, undertaken by Professors Akkerman, Hubbeling, and Westerbrink (AHW); although this edition presents all the letters in Dutch, the editors have taken great pains to get an exact text, and their work must be treated as the equivalent of a new critical edition; 2) in 1982, the third installment of the Wereldbibliotheek series contained a new critical edition, by Professor Mignini (Mignini 1), of that most troublesome of all Spinozistic texts, the Short Treatise; Mignini’s conclusions, as presented in the apparatus of his edition and in two long articles (Mignini 2, 3), will no doubt be controversial, but there can also be no doubt that he has shed a very different light on this work; and finally 3), Professor Akkerman is preparing a new critical edition of the Ethics, which will contain the many emendations of the text suggested by the extensive critique of Gebhardt’s editorial work which he published in 1980 (Akkerman 2); it is clear that Akkerman has greatly illuminated the text of the Ethics and that his new edition will be a significant improvement on Gebhardt’s. Further details of the advances made by recent textual research will be found in the prefaces to the works concerned and in the notes.

3. After the quality of the translation and of the text translated, perhaps the next most important requirement in a satisfactory edition is that it should be as comprehensive as possible. There is no doubt that the Ethics is the definitive expression of Spinoza’s mature thought in metaphysics, epistemology, psychology, and ethics. But its elliptical style makes it an often cryptic text, which imposes great demands on the reader. Ideally, it should be read in the context of the whole of the Spinozistic corpus. Even if we do not apply to Spinoza’s own work all of his principles for the interpretation of Scripture,6 it remains true that the other Spinozistic texts constitute our most important data for the interpretation of the Ethics. A satisfactory edition would not omit any that might be of use to the perplexed, so that they might readily find all those passages that bear on the same topic.

4. A corollary of this is that it is, if not a requirement, at least extremely desirable that all the translations be by the same hand. If we are to compare discussions of the same topic in different works (or in different passages of the same work), then it is essential that technical terms be treated consistently, an unlikely result if different translators are at work. The problem of comparison is compounded by the fact that the works are sometimes in different languages in the original.

Consider, for example, the term admiratio in the Ethics. This has been variously rendered by “astonishment” (White) and “wonder” (Elwes). The translator of the Ethics in the Nagelate Schriften used verwondering, a term which also occurs in the Short Treatise, where Wolf rendered it by “surprise.” None of the three English translations is unreasonable, but their variety obscures the fact that a discussion of verwondering in the Short Treatise is concerned with the same topic as a discussion of admiratio in the Ethics.

The Dutch gebeurlijk (= contingens) provides another example. This comes out as “accidental” in Wolf, whereas its Latin equivalent is translated by “contingent” in Elwes and White. A good student, of course, will probably guess that what Spinoza says about the accidental in one work bears on what he says about the contingent in another. But a better student will worry that perhaps some subtle distinction is intended. And he may also be puzzled by the fact that Spinoza seems sometimes to imply that there are accidents and sometimes to deny it; his puzzlement might be relieved if he checked the original, where he would discover that Wolf uses “accidental” for toevallig in the one context, and for gebeurlijk in the other. But he also might not know what to make of that information. The complexities of the Glossary-Index are intended to give the reader some appreciation of the Latin and Dutch realities which lie behind the English appearances.

5. If the Spinozistic corpus is to be seen in its proper perspective, it is also desirable, if not essential, that the works be arranged in chronological order. Spinoza’s writings span a period of some twenty years. It is inevitable that over the course of that length of time Spinoza would change his mind about something. I think in fact that he changed his views about quite a number of things, and that a chronological arrangement should help to bring that out.7 Spinoza scholars have often sought to unfold “the latent processes of thought” that lay “behind the geometrical method.” If we are not satisfied with literary romances masquerading as scientific history, we may find some value in examining the works that actually did lead up to the Ethics.

To some extent my arrangement of the texts is arbitrary. The decision which will probably be most surprising to nonspecialists seems to me eminently defensible. The Ethics was first published after Spinoza’s death in 1677. The Theological-Political Treatise was first published in 1670. But we know from the correspondence that a substantial manuscript of the Ethics was in existence by the middle of 1665. We do not know how much revision that manuscript may have undergone in the next twelve years before it was published, but it seems best to treat the Ethics as coming before the Theological-Political Treatise and to see a shift in Spinoza’s interests in the late 1660s.8

More controversial among specialists, no doubt, will be my decision to present the Treatise on the Emendation of the Intellect before the Short Treatise, which until very recently has invariably been thought to be Spinoza’s earliest work. Now, however, Mignini has challenged that assumption, arguing with considerable force that the Treatise on the Intellect is earlier, not only in its date of composition, but also in the stage of development it represents. I am inclined to agree with that judgment, at least as regards the date of composition. To me the correspondence makes it clear that the Treatise on the Intellect must have been written before September 1661, and that Spinoza was still working on a manuscript of the Short Treatise, which he then had thoughts of publishing, early in 1662.

6. Finally, it seems to me that a satisfactory edition of Spinoza’s works ought to contain a good deal more in the way of scholarly aid than English readers are accustomed to find in editions of modern philosophers. Students of modern philosophy must generally settle for much less help than students of ancient philosophy are used to.9 At a minimum a satisfactory edition should have: a thorough index;10 prefaces to each work indicating something of that work’s history and special problems; notes that call attention to the more significant variant readings, ambiguities, obscurities, apparent contradictions, and debates among the commentators; and some systematic way of warning the reader about terms that may be difficult to render into English.11 To make it easier for readers to consult the original and to trace references in secondary sources, it should adopt a standard pagination based on the Gebhardt edition.

Such is the kind of edition I have aimed at producing. Whether I have succeeded is for others to judge. But I should like to forestall two possible criticisms. First, it has not been my intention to produce a translation and commentary. Desirable as that might be, it seemed to me that it was more important, at this stage in the history of Spinoza studies, to present as much of the primary text as possible, as well as possible, and that I could not produce as comprehensive an edition as I would like to if I attempted to note every passage that is ambiguous, obscure, or apparently contradictory. If I am to produce a comprehensive edition in which all the work is by the same hand, I must try to complete it in my lifetime, and there is no way of knowing how long that may be. My notes also do not attempt much cross-referencing. The index should make notes of that kind largely superfluous. Second, I recognize that it would have been very desirable to have the original texts on the facing pages. Perhaps someday it will be possible to produce an edition using these translations (or some of them) and having that feature. But for now it seems more important to make the translations available in as inexpensive a format as possible.

Let me close by commenting on certain formal features of the translation and on certain peculiarities of the Latin language, which is most often the language of the texts translated in this volume. I have generally tried to be faithful to the capitalization of the Gebhardt edition, which reflects that of the original editions. I do this, not because I think the use of the capitals in those editions has any philosophical significance, but simply out of deference to those scholars who do attach significance to matters of capitalization. I incline to the view that the use of capitals in works like the Opera posthuma probably reflects the tastes of Spinoza’s printers rather than his own considered preferences. Certainly the autographs of Spinoza’s letters suggest that. But it seemed to me that it would do no harm to accommodate the views of those with whom I differ on this point.

As for punctuation and paragraphing, on the other hand, I have taken considerable liberties, breaking up long sentences and long paragraphs whenever it seemed to me that to do so would make Spinoza’s argument clearer. This necessarily involves a certain element of interpretation, but it seemed to me that the potential gain in intelligibility justified the risk. I have also interpolated occasional section numbers, phrases, and terms, in square brackets and without explanation, where they seemed helpful. Square brackets are also used, with an explanation, to indicate textual variations and doubtful passages. This happens quite frequently with footnotes in the Short Treatise. I have used italics to indicate those occasions when “or” represents sive or seu. Generally,12 sive and seu mark an equivalance, rather than an alternative. Lettered notes are Spinoza’s; numbered notes are mine.

This is perhaps the proper place to warn readers who have no Latin at all about certain features of that language. There are no articles, definite or indefinite, in classical Latin.13 So whenever the translation of a Latin passage has either a definite or an indefinite article, the reader should be aware that this involves an element of interpretation on the part of the translator. Sometimes, of course, it will be quite clear which should be used. Sometimes it will not matter philosophically. But sometimes it both matters and is not clear. The NS are of some help here, to the extent that one thinks it likely that Spinoza carefully reviewed those translations. But I am not sure how much weight to attach to their usage.

A related matter concerns the use of personal pronouns. It is sometimes observed that the use of personal pronouns is less common in Latin than in English, since the subject of the verb is often implicit in the verb ending. And often when personal pronouns are used, the masculine and neuter forms are the same. So unless a translator is prepared to violate the conventions of English, his translation is much more likely than the Latin original to convey the impression that God is being thought of as a person (and a male person at that). This would certainly be a mistaken impression, but I know no good way to remove it.

IT REMAINS only for me to acknowledge my indebtedness to the many persons and institutions who have helped to bring this project to its present stage. First, I must thank the Institute of Advanced Studies of the Australian National University in Canberra, where the bulk of the work was done, under virtually ideal conditions. I am equally indebted to Professor John Passmore, who was the head of the Philosophy Department during most of my years in Australia, who encouraged this project, commented critically on a draft translation of the Ethics, and provided me with a model of historical scholarship which has sustained my spirits through many hours of hard work. I should like to dedicate this edition to him, and only hope that he will be pleased with the finished product.

Many others have been extremely kind and helpful in many ways: Hermann de Dijn (who read a draft translation of the Short Treatise with great care), Jonathan Bennett (who provided me over the years with innumerable excellent suggestions about my translation of the Ethics), Paul Eisenberg (who shared with me a copy of his own meticulous translation of the Treatise on the Intellect and commented helpfully on the whole project), Frederick Copleston (who gave me some very useful comments on the Metaphysical Thoughts), Fokke Akkerman (who communicated to me the emendations to be incorporated in his forthcoming critical edition of the Ethics), G. van Suchtelen and F. Mignini (who made available to me a prepublication copy of the new critical edition of the Short Treatise), Marie Boas Hall and Thomas Falco (who answered queries that I had about the correspondence between Spinoza and Oldenburg), and Stephen Voss, Margaret Wilson, Alan Donagan, and Genevieve Lloyd (all of whom made constructive suggestions of one kind or another about certain aspects of the translation).

Of previous translators and editors whose works I have consulted, I am indebted most, of course, to Gebhardt, but also to Abraham Wolf, for his translations of the Short Treatise and the Correspondence; to Charles Appuhn, Roland Caillois, Madeleine Francès, and Robert Misrahi, for their excellent French translations of the works; to Fokke Akkerman, H. G. Hubbeling, and A. G. Westerbrink, whose recent Dutch edition of the correspondence is a major contribution to Spinoza studies. I have also found Professor Giancotti Boscherini’s Spinoza Lexicon a tremendously valuable tool.

I should also like to thank Sandy Thatcher of the Princeton University Press, for his initial interest in this project and his patient prodding over the years; Jean Norman, for her research assistance; and Isabel Sheaffe, Anna van der Vliet, and Audrey Thiel, for their secretarial assistance.

In spite of all the help I have received, and my own best efforts to avoid error, I am sure that mistakes must remain. As Spinoza himself remarks, nullus liber unquam sine mendis repertus est. (III/149) I would ask readers who detect anything that needs correction—typographical or translation errors, omissions from the index or from other scholarly aids—to send me notice of it, c/o the Princeton University Press.

1 I have tried, in general, to avoid tendentious translations, leaving it to the Glossary-Index to make most of the necessary explanations. Sometimes, however, a translator can hardly avoid taking a stand on disputed issues (e.g., in E ID4). Where it has seemed to me that important questions of interpretation might depend on the translation adopted, I have tried to indicate this in the notes.

2 Spinoza Opera, ed. C. Gebhardt, 4 vols. (Heidelberg: Carl Winter, 1925). In view of Spinoza’s role in the development of contemporary standards of historical scholarship, it is ironic that this task was so long neglected.

3 Or translators. Gebhardt assumed that there was just one translator, Glazemaker, and that he began his work well before Spinoza’s death (see Gebhardt II/315). The NS translations are generally careful and were already in the press five months after Spinoza’s death (21 February 1677). But as Joachim (2, 3) pointed out, the evidence for ascribing the translations to Glazemaker is not very strong. And Thijssen-Schoute (1, 10) suggested (on the strength of Letter 28) that others may have collaborated. If two or more translators did collaborate on the work, then we need not postulate that they started work long before Spinoza’s death, though probably portions of the NS translations of the Ethics date from the mid-1660s.

I think the treatment of technical terms in the NS confirms the hypothesis of more than one translator. Interesting in this connection is the treatment of mens and anima. As Giancotti Boscherini points out (1, 131), the Dutch translator of the Ethics almost invariably uses ziel for both mens and anima. In the other works he “has abandoned such uniformity” and uses, predominantly, geest for mens and ziel for anima (which, as Giancotti Boscherini notes, is Glazemaker’s regular policy in his translation of Descartes’ Regulae). To me this would suggest that different translators were at work on different parts of the NS and that Glazemaker was probably not the translator of the Ethics. A recent and very thorough examination of this issue by Akkerman (2, 77-214) concludes that Balling probably translated E I-II and that Glazemaker was the translator of E III-V.

4 A good example is E IP28S (II/70/1-15). See particularly editorial note 59. I must add, however, that I think Gebhardt sometimes regards an appeal to the NS as more decisive than it really is. Cf. E IP29D (II/70/26) and editorial note 63.

It is, of course, often difficult to know what to make of a variation. Even in the case of Descartes’ Principles and the Metaphysical Thoughts, where the translations appeared during Spinoza’s lifetime and with his approval (cf. Letter 21), a variation may reflect a revision in which we should see Spinoza’s hand (cf. I/257), an exercise in free translation (Akkerman 2, 106-107, gives numerous examples), or a mistake (cf. I/270/18-20). In the case of the Treatise on the Intellect and the Ethics we cannot be sure that the translations had his approval.

5 By Samuel Shirley, published by Hackett Publishing Co., 1982.

6 Cf. the Theological-Political Treatise, vii (III/99-101). No doubt Spinoza thought these rules applied only to works which, like Scripture, are inherently obscure, not to works which, like Euclid’s geometry, are inherently intelligible (III/111). No doubt, also, he would have classed his own work with Euclid’s. But three hundred years of Spinoza scholarship have amply demonstrated that he was too optimistic about the intelligibility of his work.

7 My model here is Alquié’s superb edition of Descartes’ works.

8 See the prefaces to the Ethics and to Letters 17-28 and the discussions in Freudenthal 5, 1:147ff. and Giancotti Boscherini 2, I, xx-xxii.

9 Though things are changing for the better. We might note here the new translation of Leibniz’s New Essays by Bennett and Remnant (Cambridge), the new edition of Locke’s Essay by Nidditch (Oxford), and the translations of Leibniz’s Discourse on Metaphysics, Correspondence with Arnauld, and Correspondence with Clarke, published by Manchester University Press.

10 Pollock, in introducing the index to his Spinoza, aptly cites the following lovely remark, attributed by Henry Wheatley to John Baynes: “The man who publishes a book without an index ought to be damned ten miles beyond Hell, where the Devil could not get for stinging nettles.”

11 For more on this theme, see the Glossary-Index.

12 But not, I think, invariably. Cf., for example, II/57/13,79/23. Sometimes Spinoza uses aut or vel where we would expect sive. Cf. II/51/23, 52/8, 146/2.

13 In medieval Latin, however, ille came to be used as a definite article and there appear to be some traces of that usage in Spinoza. Cf. II/89/4. Analogously, it seems to me that aliqui is sometimes best rendered by the indefinite article, e.g. at II/50/25, 28, 30, 31, 34 and II/83/31. In the latter case, this may have some philosophic significance, since that passage provides us with a gloss on one of the central propositions of Part I of the Ethics (P16).

Spinoza’s Latin has sometimes been stigmatized as that of the late medieval scholastics. No doubt much of the technical vocabulary is borrowed from the scholastics. But the reader will find a juster appreciation of Spinoza’s Latin in Akkerman 2, 1-35.

Short Titles and Abbreviations

PAGE references to Gebhardt’s edition Spinoza Opera (4 vols. [Heidelberg: Carl Winter, 1925]), will be made in the following form: I/611 = volume I, page 611. Frequently I will use the Gebhardt pagination, including line numbers, to refer to passages in Spinoza’s text, thus II/37/5-9 = volume II, pages 37, lines 5-9. These volume, page, and line numbers are given in the margins of the translation to make it easier to consult the original and to trace references in secondary sources.

I also adopt the following system of short titles and abbreviations, for use whenever it seems preferable not to use the Gebhardt volume, page, and line numbers:

KV =

Short Treatise on God, Man and His Well-Being = Short Treatise

TdIE =

Treatise on the Emendation of the Intellect = Treatise on the Intellect

Ep. =

Letters

PP =

Parts I and II of Descartes’ “Principles of Philosophy” = Descartes’ Principles

CM =

Appendix Containing Metaphysical Thoughts = Metaphysical Thoughts

E =

Ethics

OP =

Opera Posthuma

NS =

Nagelate Schriften

A =

axiom

D

(immediately following a roman numeral) = definition

D

(immediately following an arabic numeral) = demonstration

P =

proposition

C =

corollary

S =

scholium

Exp =

explanation

So PP ID5 = Descartes’ Principles, Part I, Definition 5. E IP8S2 = Ethics, Part I, proposition 8, scholium 2. KV II, xxv, 1 refers to Part II, chapter xxv, section 1 of the Short Treatise. “TdIE, 101” refers to section 101 of the Treatise on the Intellect. It should be understood that the division of the Short Treatise and the Treatise on the Intellect into sections is the work of later editors (Sigwart and Bruder, respectively).

As for works other than Spinoza’s, I generally refer to the Adam and Tannery edition of Descartes’ works as AT, to Descartes’ Principles of Philosophy as the Principles, and to the Latin translation of his Passions of the Soul as PA. Secondary sources are identified by the author’s name, a number if there is more than one work by the same author in the reference list, a volume number, if necessary, and the page number. The reference list may be found at the back of the book.

Earliest Works

Treatise on the Emendation of the Intellect

EDITORIAL PREFACE

THE Treatise on the Emendation of the Intellect (TdIE), a short, difficult, but fascinating discourse on method, was first published in Spinoza’s Opera posthuma in 1677. But as the editors of that collection tell us in their preface, both its style and its content show it to be one of Spinoza’s earliest works. If the reference in Letter 6 to a “whole short work” (integrum opusculum) is indeed to this treatise, as scholars have generally assumed,1 then a draft of it must have existed at least by early in 1662, and quite likely Spinoza wrote it before that.2

Various forward references in Spinoza’s notes to this treatise indicate that at some stage of his work on it Spinoza conceived it as introductory to another work, to be called (perhaps) Philosophy, a work which would have discussed in a systematic way topics in philosophical theology (II/29, n. z), philosophy of mind (II/15, n. o), epistemology (II/14, nn. k and l), ethics (II/6, n. a; II/7, n. b; II/8, n. c), and perhaps much else (cf. II/9, n. d). Some of the references suggest a work more like the Short Treatise than the Ethics,3 and Gebhardt argued that the “short work” referred to in Letter 6 was a two-part work, with the TdIE as a methodological prolegomenon to the more systematic KV. According to Gebhardt (I/407), the Latin original of the KV was already in existence when Spinoza began writing the TdIE around the time of Letter 6. But if what I have suggested above is correct (see n. 2), then Gebhardt must be wrong at least about the date of composition of the TdIE. Mignini would argue that Gebhardt is wrong also in thinking that the TdIE was an integral part of the short work Spinoza refers to in Letter 6. Emphasizing the incompleteness of our text of the TdIE, he contends that it could not have been correctly described in Letter 6 as having been composed and that it is earlier than the KV, not merely in date of composition, but also in the stage of the development of Spinoza’s thought that it represents.4 If Mignini’s arguments for the priority of the TdIE are not conclusive, he has, I think, at least established that there is no reason to regard the KV as the earlier work.5 So at this stage the position would seem to be that, if the TdIE is not in fact earlier that the KV, it was probably written at about the same time as the KV and as an introduction to it.

In its importance for the study of the development of Spinoza’s thought, the Treatise on the Intellect invites comparison with Descartes’ Regulae. Both are early, unfinished works that show the direction of their author’s thought at a formative stage, that indicate the problems concerning him and the solutions he was inclined toward. Both discuss certain important themes more fully than does any work their author later published. But both works also need to be read with the consciousness that the lines of thought presented in them may not have proved ultimately to be satisfactory to the author.

For example, some have argued that in this treatise Spinoza has not fully emancipated himself from Descartes on the distinction between will and intellect,6 and it seems clear that he does tend to confuse mind and intellect.7 I would argue that the discussion of the four kinds of knowledge is not clearly thought out.8 And Joachim has suggested that the whole work may have been intended only to present a popular, imprecise exposition of Spinoza’s thought on these topics.9

The most important question, perhaps, is whether the whole concept of method, as Spinoza here presents it, is not incoherent, and so doomed to failure.10 On the one hand, the truth is supposed to require no sign, and having a true idea is supposed to be sufficient to remove doubt (§ 36); on the other, the method is supposed, among other things, to teach us what a true idea is, and how to distinguish it from other perceptions (§ 37).

But whatever reservations we may have about the doctrine of this work, it is clear that in the main it continued to satisfy Spinoza for some years. A letter to Bouwmeester in 1666 (Letter 37) repeats some of the Treatise’s main themes—that the intellect, unlike the body, is not subject to chance, external causes, but has the power of forming clear and distinct ideas; that it is necessary above all to distinguish between the intellect and the imagination (this being identified with distinguishing between true ideas and all the rest, the false, fictitious and doubtful). And an interchange with Tschirnhaus in 1675 (Letters 59 and 60) indicates that Spinoza had communicated something similar to him informally, and had given Tschirnhaus some reason to expect that before long he would publish his treatise on method.

Naturally, then, there have been a variety of suggestions as to why the Treatise never was published in Spinoza’s lifetime. The editors of the Opera posthuma remark that the importance of the topic, the deep contemplations and extensive knowledge it required, made Spinoza’s progress with it very slow. Appuhn suggests that Spinoza broke off the composition because he could not see any satisfactory solution to the problems raised at the end (§§ 102-103, 106-110), and that he did not return to finish it because he came to think it more important to concentrate on his other works on moral and political philosophy (the Ethics, the Theological-Political Treatise, and the Political Treatise). Koyré, on the other hand, tends to emphasize the difficulty raised in § 46 (see the note to II/18/1-2). Ironically, Joachim’s excellent commentary on this work itself remained unfinished at his death because he was unable to resolve to his satisfaction the problem of how Spinoza meant to conclude the Treatise.

If the character of this work as unfinished, highly problematic, and only posthumously published invites comparison with Descartes’ Regulae, the apparently autobiographical character of the opening sections equally invites comparison with the Discourse on Method. The tone of the two works is quite different, of course. The dissatisfaction Descartes presents as leading him to philosophy is with the uncertainty of the learning that had been imparted to him as a student. Spinoza’s dissatisfaction is with the insufficiency of the ends men commonly pursue.

Of course scholars have doubted whether these opening passages should be taken as strictly autobiographical (just as they have doubted the accuracy of Descartes’ account of his life in the Discourse). As Koyré remarks (Koyré 2, xix), the theme de vero bono et de contemptu mundi is as old as the world itself. Various Stoic authors (e.g., Marcus Aurelius and Seneca) have been cited. And Elbogen calls attention to the work of a medieval Jewish author, Shem Tov Falaquera, whose Ha-Mevak-kesh similarly offers knowledge as the path to salvation. However that may be, it remains, as Koyré also remarks, highly significant that Spinoza should begin a treatise on method by reflecting on the true good.

The paragraph numbers in brackets are those introduced by Bruder and are included for ease in making and following references. Lettered footnotes are Spinoza’s, numbered footnotes are mine. I have adopted the lettering of Gebhardt’s edition, though (even allowing for differences in the Latin alphabet) it is not entirely consecutive.

[II/4] NOTICE TO THE READER1

THIS Treatise on the Emendation of the Intellect etc., which we give you here, kind reader, in its unfinished [NS: and defective] state, was written by the author many years ago now. He always intended to finish it. But hindered by other occupations, and finally snatched away by death, he was unable to bring it to the desired conclusion. But since it contains many excellent and useful things, which—we have no doubt—will be of great benefit to anyone sincerely seeking the truth, we did not wish to deprive you of them. And so that you would be aware of, and find less difficult to excuse, the many things that are still obscure, rough, and unpolished, we wished to warn you of them. Farewell.

[II/5] Treatise on the Emendation of the Intellect [5] and on the way by which it is best directed toward the true knowledge of things2

[1] AFTER experience had taught me that all the things which regularly occur in ordinary life are empty and futile, and I saw that all the [10] things which were the cause or object of my fear had nothing of good or bad in themselves, except insofar as [my] mind was moved by them, I resolved at last to try to find out whether there was anything which would be the true good, capable of communicating itself, and which alone would affect the mind, all others being rejected—whether there [15] was something which, once found and acquired, would continuously give me the greatest joy, to eternity.

[2] I say that I resolved at last—for at first glance it seemed ill-advised to be willing to lose something certain for something then uncertain. I saw, of course, the advantages that honor and wealth bring, and that I would be forced to abstain from seeking them, if I wished to devote [20] myself seriously to something new and different; and if by chance the greatest happiness lay in them, I saw that I should have to do without it. But if it did not lie in them, and I devoted my energies only to acquiring them, then I would equally go without it.

[3] So I wondered whether perhaps it would be possible to reach my new goal—or at least the certainty of attaining it—without changing [25] the conduct and plan of life which I shared with other men. Often I tried this, but in vain. For most things which present themselves in life, and which, to judge from their actions, men think to be the highest [II/6] good, may be reduced to these three: wealth, honor, and sensual pleasure.3 The mind is so distracted by these three that it cannot give the slightest thought to any other good.

[4] For as far as sensual pleasure is concerned, the mind is so caught up in it, as if at peace in a [true] good, that it is quite prevented from thinking of anything else. But after the enjoyment of sensual pleasure [5] is past, the greatest sadness follows. If this does not completely engross, still it thoroughly confuses and dulls the mind.

The mind is also distracted not a little by the pursuit of honors and wealth, particularly when the lattera is sought only for its own sake, because it is assumed to be the highest good. [5] But the mind is far [10] more distracted by honor. For this is always assumed to be good through itself and the ultimate end toward which everything is directed.

Nor do honor and wealth have, as sensual pleasure does, repentance as a natural consequence. The more each of these is possessed, the more joy is increased, and hence the more we are spurred on to increase [15] them. But if our hopes should chance to be frustrated, we experience the greatest sadness. And finally, honor has this great disadvantage: to pursue it, we must direct our lives according to other men’s powers of understanding—fleeing what they commonly flee and [20] seeking what they commonly seek.

[6] Since I saw that all of these things stood in the way of my working toward this new goal, indeed were so opposed to it that one or the other must be given up, I was forced to ask what would be more useful to me. For as I say, I seemed to be willing to lose the [25] certain good for the uncertain one. But after I had considered the matter a little, I first found that, if I devoted myself to this new plan of life, and gave up the old, I would be giving up a good by its nature uncertain (as we can clearly infer from what has been said) for one uncertain not by its nature (for I was seeking a permanent good) but only in respect to its attainment.

[30] [7] By persistent meditation, however, I came to the conclusion that, if only I could resolve, wholeheartedly,4 [to change my plan of life], I would be giving up certain evils for a certain good. For I saw that I [II/7] was in the greatest danger, and that I was forced to seek a remedy with all my strength, however uncertain it might be—like a man suffering from a fatal illness, who, foreseeing certain death unless he employs a remedy, is forced to seek it, however uncertain, with all [5] his strength. For all his hope lies there. But all those things men ordinarily strive for, not only provide no remedy to preserve our being, but in fact hinder that preservation, often cause the destruction of those who possess them,b and always cause the destruction of those who are possessed by them.5

[10] [8] There are a great many examples of people who have suffered persecution to the death on account of their wealth, or have exposed themselves to so many dangers to acquire wealth that they have at last paid the penalty for their folly with their life. Nor are there fewer examples of people who, to attain or defend honor, have suffered most [15] miserably. And there are innumerable examples of people who have hastened their death through too much sensual pleasure.

[9] Furthermore, these evils seemed to have arisen from the fact that all happiness or unhappiness was placed in the quality of the object to which we cling with love. For strife will never arise on account of [20] what is not loved, nor will there be sadness if it perishes, nor envy if it is possessed by another, nor fear, nor hatred—in a word, no disturbances of the mind. Indeed, all these happen only in the love of those things that can perish, as all the things we have just spoken of can do.

[10] But love toward the eternal and infinite thing feeds the mind [25] with a joy entirely exempt from sadness.6 This is greatly to be desired, and to be sought with all our strength.

But not without reason did I use these words if only I could resolve in earnest.7 For though I perceived these things [NS: this evil] so clearly in my mind, I still could not, on that account, put aside all greed, [30] desire for sensual pleasure and love of esteem.

[11] I saw this, however: that so long as the mind was turned toward these thoughts, it was turned away from those things, and was thinking seriously about the new goal. That was a great comfort to me. For I saw that those evils would not refuse to yield to remedies. And [II/8] although in the beginning these intervals were rare, and lasted a very short time, nevertheless, after the true good became more and more known to me, the intervals became more frequent and longer—especially after I saw that the acquisition of money, sensual pleasure, and [5] esteem are only obstacles so long as they are sought for their own sakes, and not as means to other things. But if they are sought as means, then they will have a limit, and will not be obstacles at all. On the contrary, they will be of great use in attaining the end on account of which they are sought, as we shall show in its place.

[10] [12] Here I shall only say briefly what I understand by the true good, and at the same time, what the highest good is. To understand this properly, it must be noted that good and bad are said of things only in a certain respect, so that one and the same thing can be called both good and bad according to different respects. The same applies [15] to perfect and imperfect. For nothing, considered in its own nature, will be called perfect or imperfect, especially after we have recognized that everything that happens happens according to the eternal order, and according to certain laws of Nature.

[13] But since human weakness does not grasp that order by its own thought, and meanwhile man conceives a human nature much stronger [20] and more enduring8 than his own, and at the same time sees that nothing prevents his acquiring such a nature, he is spurred to seek means that will lead him to such a perfection. Whatever can be a means to his attaining it is called a true good; but the highest good is to arrive—together with other individuals if possible—at the enjoyment [25] of such a nature. What that nature is we shall show in its proper place: that it is the knowledgec of the union that the mind has with the whole of Nature.9

[14] This, then, is the end I aim at: to acquire such a nature, and to strive that many acquire it with me. That is, it is part of my happiness [30] to take pains that many others may understand as I understand, so that their intellect and desire agree entirely with my intellect and desire. To do this it is necessary,d first to understand as much of Nature [II/9] as suffices for acquiring such a nature; next, to form a society of the kind that is desirable, so that as many as possible may attain it as easily and surely as possible.

[15] Third, attention must be paid to Moral Philosophy and to Instruction [5] concerning the Education of children. Because Health is no small means to achieving this end, fourthly, the whole of Medicine must be worked out. And because many difficult things are rendered easy by ingenuity, and we can gain much time and convenience in this life, fifthly, Mechanics is in no way to be despised.

[10] [16] But before anything else we must devise a way of healing the intellect, and purifying it, as much as we can in the beginning, so that it understands things successfully, without error and as well as possible.10 Everyone will now be able to see that I wish to direct all the sciences toward one ende and goal, viz. that we should achieve, as we [15] have said, the highest human perfection. So anything in the sciences which does nothing to advance us toward our goal must be rejected as useless—in a word, all our activities and thoughts are to be directed to this end.

[17] But while we pursue this end, and devote ourselves to bringing [20] the intellect back11 to the right path, it is necessary to live. So we are forced, before we do anything else, to assume certain rules of living as good:

1. To speak according to the power of understanding of ordinary people, and do whatever does not interfere with our attaining our [25] purpose. For we can gain a considerable advantage, if we yield as much to their understanding as we can. In this way, they will give a favorable hearing to the truth.

2. To enjoy pleasures just so far as suffices for safeguarding our health.

[30] 3. Finally, to seek money, or anything else, just so far as suffices for sustaining life and health, and conforming to those customs of the community that do not conflict with our aim.

[18] Having laid down these rules, I come now to what must be [35] done first, before all else: emending12 the intellect and rendering it [II/10] capable of understanding things in the way the attainment of our end requires. To do this, the order we naturally have requires me to survey here all the modes of perceiving which I have had up to now for affirming or denying something without doubt, so that I may choose [5] the best of all, and at the same time begin to know my powers and the nature that I desire to perfect.

[19] If I consider them accurately, I can reduce them all to four13 main kinds:

1. There is the Perception we have from report or from some [10] conventional sign.14

2. There is the Perception we have from random experience,15 that is, from experience that is not determined by the intellect. But it has this name only because it comes to us by chance, and we have no other experiment that opposes it. So it remains with [15] us unshaken.

3. There is the Perception that we have when the essence of a thing is inferred from another thing, but not adequately. This happens, either fwhen we infer the cause from some effect, or when something is inferred from some universal, which some property always accompanies.17

[20] 4. Finally, there is the Perception we have when a thing is perceived through its essence alone, or through knowledge of its proximate cause.

[20] I shall illustrate all of these with examples. I know only from report my date of birth, and who my parents were, and similar things, which I have never doubted. By random experience I know that I [25] shall die, for I affirm this because I have seen others like me die, even though they had not all lived the same length of time and did not all die of the same illness. Again, I also know by random experience that [II/11] oil is capable of feeding fire, and that water is capable of putting it out. I know also that the dog is a barking animal, and man a rational one. And in this way I know almost all the things that are useful in life.

[21] But we infer [one thing]18 from another in this way: after we [5] clearly perceive that we feel such a body, and no other, then, I say, we infer clearly that the soul is unitedg to the body, which union is the cause of such a sensation; but we cannot understand absolutely from this whath that sensation and union are. Or after we have come to know the nature of vision, and that it has the property that we see [10] one and the same thing as smaller when we look at it from a great distance than when we look at it from close up, we infer that the sun is larger than it appears to be, and other things of the same kind.20

[22] Finally, a thing is perceived through its essence alone when, from the fact that I know something, I know what it is to know something, [15] or from the fact that I know the essence of the soul, I know that it is united to the body. By the same kind of knowledge, we know that two and three are five, and that if two lines are parallel to a third line, they are also parallel to each other, etc. But the things I have so far been able to know by this kind of knowledge have been very few.

[20] [23] That you may understand all these things better, I shall use only one example. Suppose there are three numbers. Someone is seeking a fourth, which is to the third as the second is to the first. Here merchants will usually say that they know what to do to find the fourth number, because they have not yet forgotten that procedure [25] which they simply heard from their teachers, without any demonstration.

[II/12] Others will construct a universal axiom from an experience with simple numbers, where the fourth number is evident through itself—as in the numbers 2, 4, 3, and 6. Here they find by trial that if the second is multiplied by the third, and the product then divided by the first, the result is 6. Since they see that this produces the same number [5] which they knew to be the proportional number without this procedure, they infer that the procedure is always a good way to find the fourth number in the proportion.

[24] But Mathematicians know, by the force of the demonstration of Proposition 19 in Book VII of Euclid, which 21 numbers are proportional to one another, from the nature of proportion, and its property, [10] viz. that the product of the first and fourth numbers is equal to the product of the second and third. Nevertheless, they do not see the adequate proportionality of the given numbers. And if they do, they see it not by the force of that Proposition, but intuitively, [NS: or] without going through any procedure.

[25] To choose the best mode of perceiving from these, we are required [15] to enumerate briefly the means necessary to attain our end:

1.22 To know exactly our nature, which we desire to perfect, and at the same time,

2. [To know] as much of the nature of things as is necessary,

(a) to infer rightly from it the differences, agreements and [20] oppositions of things,

(b) to conceive rightly what they can undergo and what they cannot,

(c) to compare [the nature of things] with the nature and power of man.

This done, the highest perfection man can reach will easily manifest itself.

[25] [26] Having considered these requirements, let us see which mode of perceiving we ought to choose.

As for the first, it is evident in itself that from report—apart from the fact that it is a very uncertain thing—we do not perceive any essence of a thing, as is clear from our example. And since the existence [30] of any singular thing23 is not known unless its essence is known (as we shall see afterwards), we can clearly infer from this that all the certainty we have from report is to be excluded from the sciences. For no one will ever be able to be affected by simple report, unless his own intellect has gone before.

[II/13] [27] As for the second,i again, no one should be said to have the idea of that24 proportion which he is seeking. Apart from the fact that it is a very uncertain thing, and without end, in this way no one will ever perceive anything in natural things except accidents. But these [5] are never understood clearly unless their essences are known first. So that also is to be excluded.

[28] Concerning the third, on the other hand, we can, in a sense, say that we have an idea of the thing, and that we can also make inferences without danger of error. But still, it will not through itself [10] be the means of our reaching our perfection.

[29] Only the fourth mode comprehends the adequate essence of the thing and is without danger of error. For that reason, it is what we must chiefly use. So we shall take care to explain how it is to be used, that we may understand unknown things by this kind of knowledge [15] and do so as directly as possible; [30] [NS: i.e.] after we know what Knowledge is necessary for us, we must teach the Way and Method by which we may achieve this kind of knowledge of the things that are to be known.

To do this, the first thing we must consider is that there is no infinite regress here. That is, to find the best Method of seeking the [20] truth, there is no need of another Method to seek the Method of seeking the truth, or of a third Method to seek the second, and so on, to infinity. For in that way we would never arrive at knowledge of the truth, or indeed at any knowledge.

Matters here stand as they do with corporeal tools,25 where someone [25] might argue in the same way. For to forge iron a hammer is needed; and to have a hammer, it must be made; for this another hammer, and other tools are needed; and to have these tools too, other tools will be needed, and so on to infinity; in this way someone might try, in vain, to prove that men have no power of forging iron.

[30] [31] But just as men, in the beginning, were able to make the easiest things with the tools they were born with (however laboriously and imperfectly), and once these had been made, made other, more difficult things with less labor and more perfectly, and so, proceeding [II/14] gradually from the simplest works to tools, and from tools to other works and tools, reached the point where they accomplished so many and so difficult things with little labor, in the same way the intellect, by its inborn power,k makes intellectual tools for itself, by which it [5] acquires other powers for other intellectual works,l and from these works still other tools, or the power of searching further, and so proceeds by stages, until it reaches the pinnacle of wisdom.

[32] It will be easy to see that this is the situation of the intellect, provided we understand what the Method of seeking the truth is, and [10] what those inborn tools are, which it requires only26 to make other tools from them, so as to advance further. To show this, I proceed as follows.

[33] A27 true ideam (for we have a true idea) is something different from its object. For a circle is one thing and an idea of the circle [15] another—the idea of the circle is not something which has a circumference and a center, as the circle does. Nor is an idea of the body the body itself. And since it is something different from its object, it will also be something intelligible through itself; that is, the idea, as far as its formal essence is concerned, can be the object of another objective essence, and this other objective essence in turn will also be, considered [20] in itself, something real and intelligible, and so on, indefinitely.

[34] Peter, for example, is something real; but a true idea of Peter28 is an objective essence of Peter, and something real in itself, and altogether different from Peter himself. So since an idea of Peter is something real, having its own particular essence, it will also be something intelligible, i.e., the object of a second idea, which will have in [25] itself, objectively, whatever the idea of Peter has formally; and in turn, the idea which is [the idea] of the idea of Peter has again its essence, which can also be the object of another idea, and so on indefinitely. Everyone can experience this, when he sees that he knows what Peter is, and also knows that he knows, and again, knows that he knows that he knows, etc.

[30] From this it is evident that to understand the essence of Peter, it is [II/15] not necessary to understand an idea of Peter, much less an idea of an idea of Peter. This is the same as if I said that, in order for me to know, it is not necessary to know that I know, much less necessary to know that I know that I know—no more than it is necessary to understand the essence of a circle in order to understand the essence [5] of a triangle.n Indeed, in these ideas the opposite is the case. For to know that I know, I must first know.

[35] From this it is clear that certainty is nothing but the objective essence itself, i.e., the mode by which we are aware of the formal essence29 is certainty itself. And from this, again, it is clear that, for [10] the certainty of the truth, no other sign is needed than having a true idea. For as we have shown, in order for me to know, it is not necessary to know that I know. From which, once more, it is clear that no one can know what the highest certainty is unless he has an adequate idea or objective essence of some thing. For certainty and an objective essence are the same thing.

[15] [36] Since truth, therefore, requires no sign, but it suffices, in order to remove all doubt, to have the objective essences of things, or, what is the same, ideas, it follows that the true Method is not to seek a sign of truth after the acquisition of ideas, but the true Method is the way [20] that truth itself, or the objective essences of things, or the ideas (all those signify the same) should be soughto in the proper order.

[37] Again, the Method must speak about Reasoning, or30 about the intellection; i.e., Method is not the reasoning itself by which we understand the causes of things, much less the understanding of the causes of things; it is understanding what a true idea is by distinguishing it [25] from the rest of the perceptions; by investigating its nature, so that from that we may come to know our power of understanding and so restrain the mind that it understands, according to that standard, everything that is to be understood; and finally by teaching and constructing certain rules as aids, so that the mind does not weary itself in useless things.

[30] [38] From this it may be inferred that Method is nothing but a [II/16] reflexive knowledge, or an idea of an idea; and because there is no idea of an idea, unless there is first an idea, there will be no Method unless there is first an idea. So that Method will be good which shows how the mind is to be directed according the standard of a given true idea.31

[5] Next, since the relation between the two ideas is the same as the relation between the formal essences of those ideas, it follows that the reflexive knowledge of the idea of the most perfect Being will be more excellent than the reflexive knowledge of any other ideas. That is, the most perfect Method will be the one that shows how the mind is to be directed according to the standard of the given idea of the most [10] perfect Being.

[39] From this you will easily understand how the mind, as it understands more things, at the same time acquires other tools, with which it proceeds to understand more easily. For, as may be inferred from what has been said, before all else there must be a true idea in us, as an inborn tool; once this true idea is understood, we understand [15] the difference between that kind of perception and all the rest. Understanding that difference constitutes one part of the Method.

And since it is clear through itself that the mind understands itself the better, the more it understands of Nature, it is evident, from that that this part of the Method will be more perfect as the mind understands more things, and will be most perfect when the mind attends [20] to, or reflects on, knowledge of the most perfect Being.

[40] Next, the more the mind knows, the better it understands its own powers and the order of Nature. The better the mind understands its own powers, the more easily it can direct itself and propose rules to itself; the better it understands the order of Nature, the more easily it can restrain itself from useless pursuits. In these things, as [25] we have said, the whole of the Method consists.

[41] Moreover, the idea is objectively in the same way as its object is really. So if there were something in Nature that did not interact with other things, and if there were an objective essence of that thing which would have to agree completely with its formal essence, then [30] that objective essence would not interactp with other ideas, i.e., we could not infer anything about it.32 And conversely, those things that do interact with other things (as everything that exists in Nature does) will be understood, and their objective essences will also have the same interaction, i.e., other ideas will be deduced from them, and [II/17] these again will interact with other ideas, and so the tools for proceeding further will increase, which is what we were trying to demonstrate.

[42] Next, from what we have just said, that an idea must agree completely with its formal essence, it is again evident that for our mind [5] to reproduce completely the likeness of Nature,33 it must bring all of its ideas forth from that idea which represents the source and origin of the whole of Nature, so that that idea is also the source of the other ideas.

[43] Here, perhaps, someone will be surprised that, having said that a good Method is one which shows how the mind is to be directed [10] according to the standard of a given true idea, we should prove this by reasoning. For that seems to show that this is not known through itself. So it may be asked whether our reasoning is good? If our reasoning is good, we must begin from a given [true?] idea; and since to begin from a given [true?] idea requires a demonstration, we must again prove our reasoning, and then once more prove that other reasoning, [15] and so on to infinity.

[44] To this I reply that if, by some fate, someone had proceeded in this way in investigating Nature, i.e., by acquiring other ideas in the proper order, according to the standard of the given true idea, he would never have doubtedq the truth he possessed (for as we have shown, the truth makes itself manifest) and also everything would have flowed to him of its own accord.34

[20] But because this never or rarely happens, I have been forced to lay things down in this way, so that what we cannot acquire by fate, we may still acquire by a deliberate plan, and at the same time so that it would be evident that to prove the truth and good reasoning, we require no tools except the truth itself and good reasoning. For I have [25] proved, and still strive to prove, good reasoning by good reasoning. [45] Moreover, in this way men become accustomed to their own internal meditations.

But the reason why Nature is rarely investigated in the proper order, is, first, that men have prejudices whose causes we shall explain afterwards in our Philosophy. And then, the task requires a considerable [30] capacity for making accurate distinctions (as we shall show later) and much effort. Finally, there is the condition of human affairs, which are quite changeable, as we have already shown. There are still other reasons, which we shall not go into.

[II/18] [46] If, by chance, someone should ask why I did [not]35 immediately, before anything else, display the truths of Nature in that order—for does not the truth make itself manifest?—I reply to him […] and at the same time I warn him not to try to reject these things as false because of Paradoxes that occur here and there; he should first [5] deign to consider the order in which we prove them, and then he will become certain that we have reached the truth; and this was the reason why I have put these things first.

[47] But perhaps, afterwards, some Skeptic would still doubt both the first truth itself and everything we shall deduce according to the [10] standard of the first truth. If so, then either he will speak contrary to his own conciousness, or we shall confess that there are men whose minds also are completely blinded, either from birth, or from prejudices, i.e., because of some external chance. For they are not even aware of themselves. If they affirm or doubt something, they do not know that they affirm or doubt. They say that they know nothing, [15] and that they do not even know that they know nothing. And even this they do not say absolutely. For they are afraid to confess that they exist, so long as they know nothing. In the end, they must be speechless, lest by chance they assume something that might smell of truth.

[48] Finally, there is no speaking of the sciences with them. (For as far as the needs of life and society are concerned, necessity forces them [20] to suppose that they exist, and to seek their own advantage, and in taking oaths, to affirm and deny many things.) For, if someone proves something to them, they do not know whether the argument is a proof or not. If they deny, grant, or oppose, they do not know that they deny, grant, or oppose. So they must be regarded as automata, completely [25] lacking a mind.

[49] Let us now return to our subject. First [§§ 1-17], we have treated the end toward which we strive to direct all our thoughts; second [§§ 18-29], we learned which is the best perception, by whose aid we can reach our perfection; third [§§ 30-48], we learned which is the first [30] path our mind must enter on to begin well—which is to proceed in its investigation according to certain laws, taking as a standard a given true idea.

If this is to be done properly, the Method must, first [§§ 50-90], show how to distinguish a true idea from all other perceptions, and to restrain the mind from those other perceptions; second [§§ 91-98], [35] teach rules so that we may perceive things unknown according to such [II/19] a standard; third [§ 99-?], establish an order, so that we do not become weary with trifles. When we came to know this Method [§ 38], we saw, fourth, that it will be most perfect when we have the idea of the most perfect Being. So in the beginning we must take the greatest care [5] that we arrive at knowledge of such a Being as quickly as possible.

[50] Let us begin, therefore, from the first part of the Method, which is, as we have said, to distinguish and separate true ideas from all other perceptions, and to restrain the mind from confusing false, fictitious, and doubtful ideas with true ones. It is my intention to explain this fully here, so as to engage my Readers in the thought of a thing so [10] necessary, and also because there are many who doubt even true ideas, from not attending to the distinction between a true perception and all others. So they are like men who, when they were awake, used not to doubt that they were awake, but who, after they once thought in a dream that they were certainly awake (as often happens), and later [15] found that to be false, doubted even of their waking states. This happens because they have never distinguished between the dream36 and the waking state.

[51] In the meantime, I warn the reader that I shall not discuss the essence of each perception, and explain it by its proximate37 cause, because that pertains to Philosophy, but shall discuss only what the [20] Method demands, i.e., what false, fictitious and doubtful ideas are concerned with, and how we shall be freed from each of them. Let the first inquiry, therefore, be about the fictitious idea.

[52] Since every perception is either of a thing considered as existing, or of an essence alone, and since fictions occur more frequently [25] concerning things considered as existing, I shall speak first of them—i.e., where existence alone is feigned, and the thing which is feigned in such an act is understood, or assumed to be understood. E.g., I feign that Peter, whom I know, is going home, that he is coming to visit me, and the like.r Here I ask, what does such an idea concern? I [30] see that it concerns only possible, and not necessary or impossible things.

[53] I call a thing impossible whose nature38 implies that it would be contradictory for it to exist; necessary whose nature implies that it [II/20] would be contradictory for it not to exist; and possible whose existence,39 by its very nature, does not imply a contradiction—either for it to exist or for it not to exist—but whose necessity or impossibility of existence depends on causes unknown to us, so long as we feign its [5] existence. So if its necessity or impossibility, which depends on external causes, were known to us, we would have been able to feign nothing concerning it.

[54] From this it follows that, if there is a God, or something omniscient, he can feign nothing at all.40 For as far as We are concerned, after I know that I exist,s I cannot feign either that I exist or that I do [10] not exist; nor can I feign an elephant which passes through the eye of a needle; nor, after I know the nature of God, can I feign either that he exists or that he does not exist.t The same must be understood of the Chimera, whose nature implies that it would be contradictory for it to exist. From this what I have said is evident: that the fiction of which we are speaking here does not occur concerning eternal truths.u [15] I shall also show immediately that no fiction is concerned with eternal truths.

[55] But before proceeding further, I must note here in passing that the same difference that exists between the essence of one thing and the essence of another also exists between the actuality or existence of [20] the one thing and the actuality or existence of the other. So if we wished to conceive the existence of Adam, for example, through existence in general, it would be the same as if, to conceive his essence, we attended to the nature of being, so that in the end we defined him by saying that Adam is a being. Therefore, the more generally existence [25] is conceived, the more confusedly also it is conceived, and the more easily it can be ascribed fictitiously to anything. Conversely, the more particularly it is conceived, then the more clearly it is understood, and the more difficult it is for us, [even] when we do not attend [II/21] to the order of Nature, to ascribe it fictitiously to anything other than the thing itself.41 This is worth noting.

[56] Now we must consider those things that are commonly said to be feigned, although we understood clearly that the thing is not really [5] as we feign it. E.g., although I know that the earth is round, nothing prevents me from saying to someone that the earth is a hemisphere and like half an orange on a plate, or that the sun moves around the earth, and the like. If we attend to these things, we shall see nothing that is not compatible with what we have already said, provided we [10] note first that we have sometimes been able to err, and now are conscious of our errors; and then, we can feign, or at least allow, that other men are in the same error, or can fall into it, as we did previously.

We can feign this, I say, so long as we see no impossibility and no [15] necessity. Therefore, when I say to someone that the earth is not round, etc., I am doing nothing but recalling the error which I, perhaps, made, or into which I could have fallen, and afterwards feigning, or allowing, that he to whom I say this is still in the same error, or can fall into it. As I have said, I feign this so long as I see no [20] impossibility and no necessity. For if I had understood this, I could have feigned nothing at all, and it would have had to be said only that I had done something.42

[57] It remains now to note also those things that are supposed in Problems. This sometimes happens even concerning impossible things. E.g., when we say “Let us suppose that this burning candle is not [25] now burning, or let us suppose that it is burning in some imaginary space, or where there are no bodies.” Things like this are sometimes supposed, although this last is clearly understood to be impossible.43 But when this happens, nothing at all is feigned. For in the first case [II/22] I have done nothing but recall to memoryx another candle that was not burning (or I have conceived this candle without the flame), and what I think about that candle, I understand concerning this one, so long as I do not attend to the flame.

In the second case, nothing is done except to abstract the thoughts [5] from the surrounding bodies so that the mind directs itself toward the sole contemplation of the candle, considered in itself alone, so that afterwards it infers that the candle has no cause for its destruction. So if there were no surrounding bodies, this candle, and its flame, would remain immutable, or the like. Here, then, there is no fiction, buty [10] true and sheer assertions.44

[58] Let us pass now to fictions that concern either essences alone or essences together with some actuality or existence. The most important consideration regarding them is that the less the mind understands and the more things it perceives, the greater its power of feigning [15] is; and the more things it understands, the more that power is diminished.

For example, as we have seen above, we cannot feign, so long as we are thinking, that we are thinking and are not thinking; in the same way, after we know the nature of body, we cannot feign an infinite [20] fly, or after we know the nature of the soul,z we cannot feign that it is square, though there is nothing that cannot be put into words.

But as we have said, the less men know Nature, the more easily they can feign many things, such as, that trees speak, that men are changed in a moment into stones and into springs, that nothing becomes something, that even Gods are changed into beasts and into [25] men, and infinitely many other things of that kind.45

[II/23] [59] Someone, perhaps, will think that fiction is limited by fiction, but not by intellection.46 That is, after I have feigned something, and willed by a certain freedom to assent that it exists in nature in this way, this has the consequence that I cannot afterwards think it in any [5] other way. For example, after I have feigned (to speak as they do) that body has such a nature, and willed, from my freedom, to be convinced that it really exists in this way, I can no longer feign an infinite fly; and after I have feigned the essence of the soul, I can no longer feign that it is square.

[60] But this needs to be examined. First, either they deny or they grant that we can understand something. If they grant it, then necessarily [10] what they say about fiction will also have to be said about intellection. But if they deny it, let us—who know that we know something—see what they say.

Evidently, they say that the soul can sense and perceive in many ways, not itself, nor the things that exist, but only those things that [15] are neither in itself nor anywhere; that is, the soul can, by its own force alone, create sensations or ideas, which are not of things; so they consider it, to some extent, as like God.47

Next, they say that we, or our soul, has such a freedom that it compels us, or itself, indeed its own freedom. For after it has feigned something, and offered its assent to it, it cannot think or feign it in any other way, and is also compelled by that fiction so that even other [20] things are thought in such a way as not to conflict with the first fiction, just as here too because of their own fiction, they are forced to admit the absurdities which I review here, and which we shall not bother to refute with any demonstrations.

[25] [61] Rather, leaving them to their madness, we shall take care to draw from the words we have exchanged with them something true and to our purpose, viz.:a when the mind attends to a fictitious thing which is false by its very nature, so that it considers it carefully, and understands it, and deduces from it in good order the things to be deduced, it will easily bring its falsity to light. And if the fictitious [II/24] thing is true by its nature, then when the mind attends to it, so that it understands it, and begins to deduce from it in good order the things that follow from it, it will proceed successfully, without any interruption—just as we have seen that, from the false fiction just mentioned, the intellect immediately applies itself to show its absurdity, and the [5] other things deduced from that.

[62] So we ought not to fear in any way that we are [merely] feigning something, if only we perceive the thing clearly and distinctly. For if by chance we should say that men are changed in a moment into beasts, that is said very generally, so that there is in the mind no concept, i.e., [10] idea, or connection of subject and predicate. For if there were any concept, the mind would see together the means and causes, how and why such a thing was done. And one does not attend to the nature of the subject and of the predicate.

[63] Next, provided the first idea is not fictitious, and all the other ideas are deduced from it, the haste to feign things will gradually [15] disappear. And since a fictitious idea cannot be clear and distinct, but only confused, and since all confusion results from the fact that the mind knows only in part a thing that is a whole, or composed of many things, and does not distinguish the known from the unknown (and besides, attends at once, without making any distinction, to the many [20] things that are contained in each thing), from this it follows, first, that if an idea is of some most simple thing, it can only be clear and distinct. For that thing will have to become known, not in part, but either as a whole or not at all.48

[64] Secondly, it follows that if, in thought, we divide a thing that is composed of many things into all its most simple parts, and attend [25] to each of these separately, all confusion will disappear.

Thirdly, it follows that a fiction cannot be simple, but that it is made from the composition of different confused ideas, which are different things and actions existing in nature; or rather, from attending at once,b without assent, to such different ideas. For if it were simple, [30] it would be clear and distinct, and consequently true. And if it were made from the composition of distinct ideas, their composition would [II/25] also be clear and distinct, and therefore true. For example, once we know the nature of the circle, and also the nature of the square, we cannot then compound these two and make a square circle, or a square soul, and the like.

[5] [65] Let us sum up again briefly, and see why we do not need to fear that the fiction will in any way be confused with true ideas. For as for the first [fiction]49 of which we spoke before, viz. where the thing is clearly conceived, we saw that if that thing that is clearly conceived (and also its existence) is, through itself, an eternal truth, we [10] can feign nothing concerning such a thing. But if the existence of the thing conceived is not an eternal truth, we need only to take care to compare the existence of the thing with its essence, and at the same time attend to the order of Nature.

As for the second fiction, we said that it consists in attending at once, without assent, to different confused ideas, which are of different [15] things and actions existing in Nature. We saw also that a most simple thing cannot be feigned, but [only] understood, and also that a composite thing can be understood, provided that we attend to the most simple parts of which it is composed. Indeed we also cannot feign from them any actions that are not true; for at the same time we will be forced to consider how and why such a thing happened.

[20] [66] With these matters thus understood, let us pass now to the investigation of the false idea so that we may see what it is concerned with, and how we can take care not to fall into false perceptions. Neither of these will be difficult for us now, after our investigation of the fictitious idea. For between fictitious and false ideas there is no [25] other difference except that the latter suppose assent; i.e. (as we have already noted), while the presentations appear to him [who has the false idea], there appear no causes from which he can infer (as he who is feigning can) that they do not arise from things outside him. And this is hardly anything but dreaming with open eyes, or while we are awake. Therefore the false idea is concerned with, or (to put it better) [30] is related to the existence of a thing whose essence is known, or to an essence, in the same way as a fictitious idea.

[67] [The false idea] that is related to existence is emended in the same way as the fiction. For if the nature of the thing known presupposes necessary existence, it is impossible for us to be deceived concerning the existence of that thing. But if the existence of the thing is not an eternal truth (as its essence is), so that50 its necessity or impossibility [35] of existing depends on external causes, then take everything in [II/26] the same way as we said when we were speaking of fictions. For it may be emended in the same way.

[68] As for the other kind of false idea, which is related to essences, or also to actions, such perceptions must always be confused, composed [5] of different confused perceptions of things existing in nature—as when men are persuaded that there are divinities in the woods, in images, in animals, etc.; or that there are bodies from whose composition alone the intellect is made; or that corpses reason, walk, and speak; or that God is deceived, and the like. But ideas that are clear [10] and distinct can never be false. For the ideas of things that are conceived clearly and distinctly, are either most simple, or composed of most simple ideas, i.e., deduced from most simple ideas. But that a most simple idea cannot be false, anyone can see—provided that he knows what the true is, or the intellect, and at the same time, what the false is.

[15] [69] As for what constitutes the form of the true, it is certain that a true thought is distinguished from a false one not only by an extrinsic, but chiefly by an intrinsic denomination. For if some architect conceives a building in an orderly fashion, then although such a building never existed, and even never will exist, still the thought of it is true, [20] and the thought is the same, whether the building exists or not.51 On the other hand, if someone says, for example, that Peter exists, and nevertheless does not know that Peter exists, that thought, in respect to him is false, or, if you prefer, is not true, even though Peter really exists. Nor is this statement, Peter exists, true, except in respect to [25] him who knows certainly that Peter exists.

[70] From this it follows that there is something real in ideas, through which the true are distinguished from the false. This will now have to be investigated, so that we may have the best standard of truth (for we have said that we must determine our thoughts from the given standard of a true idea, and that method is reflexive knowledge), and [30] may know the properties of the intellect. Nor must we say that this difference arises from the fact that the true thought is knowing things through their first causes.52 In this, indeed, it differs greatly from the false, as I have explained it above. For that Thought is also called true which involves objectively the essence of some principle that does not have a cause, and is known through itself and in itself.

[35] [71] So the form of the true thought53 must be placed in the same [II/27] thought itself without relation to other things, nor does it recognize the object as its cause, but must depend on the very power and nature of the intellect. For if we should suppose that the intellect had perceived some new being, which has never existed (as some conceive [5] God’s intellect, before he created things—for that perception, of course, could not have arisen from any object), and that from such a perception it deduced others legitimately, all those thoughts would be true, and determined by no external object, but would depend only on the power and nature of the intellect. So what constitutes the form of the [10] true thought must be sought in the same thought itself, and must be deduced from the nature of the intellect.

[72] To investigate this, therefore, let us consider some true idea, of which we know most certainly that its object depends on our power of thinking, and that it has no object in nature. For it is clear from what has already been said that we shall be able more easily to investigate [15] what we wish to in such an idea. E.g., to form the concept of a sphere, I feign a cause at will, say that a semicircle is rotated around a center, and that the sphere is, as it were, produced by this rotation. This idea, of course, is true, and even though we may know that no sphere in nature was ever produced in this way, nevertheless, this perception is true, and a very easy way of forming the concept of a sphere.

[20] Now it must be noted that this perception affirms that the semicircle is rotated, which affirmation would be false if it were not joined to the concept of a sphere, or to a cause determining such a motion, or absolutely, if this affirmation were isolated. For then the mind would only tend to affirm of the semicircle nothing but motion, which neither is contained in the concept of the semicircle nor arises from the [25] concept of the cause determining the motion. So falsity consists only in this: that something is affirmed of a thing that is not contained in the concept we have formed of the thing, as motion or rest of the semicircle.

From this it follows that simple thoughts cannot but be true; for example, the simple idea of a semicircle, or of motion, or of quantity, [30] etc. Whatever they contain of affirmation matches their concept, and does not extend itself beyond [the concept]. So we may form simple ideas at will, without fear of error.

[73] It only remains, then, to ask by what power our mind can form these [simple ideas] and how far this power extends. For once this is [35] discovered, we shall easily see the highest knowledge we can reach. It [II/28] is certain that this power does not extend to infinity. For when we affirm of a thing something not contained in the concept we form of it, that indicates a defect of our perception, or that we have thoughts, [5] or ideas, which are, as it were, mutilated and maimed. For we saw that the motion of a semicircle is false when it is in the mind in isolation, but true if it is joined to the concept of a sphere, or to the concept of some cause determining such a motion. But if it is—as it seems at first54—of the nature of a thinking being to form true, or [10] adequate, thoughts, it is certain that inadequate ideas arise in us only from the fact that we are a part of a thinking being, of which some thoughts wholly constitute our mind, while others do so only in part.

[74] But we still need to consider something which was not worth [15] the trouble of noting concerning fictions, and which gives rise to the greatest deception—viz. when it happens that certain things that appear in the imagination are also in the intellect, i.e., that they are conceived clearly and distinctly. For then, so long as the distinct is not distinguished from the confused, certainty, i.e., a true idea, is mixed up with what is not distinct.

[20] For example, some of the Stoics heard, perhaps, the word soul, and also that the soul is immortal, which they only imagined confusedly; they also both imagined and at the same time understood that the most subtle bodies penetrate all others, and are not penetrated by any. Since they imagined all these things at once—while remaining certain of this [25] axiom—they immediately became certain that the mind was those most subtle bodies55 and that those most subtle bodies were not divided, etc.

[75] But we are freed from this also, as long as we strive to consider all our perceptions according to the standard of a given true idea, being on guard, as we said in the beginning, against those we have from report or from random experience. Moreover, such a deception [30] arises from the fact that they conceive things too abstractly. For it is sufficiently clear through itself that I cannot apply what I conceive in its true object to something else. Finally, it arises also from the fact that they do not understand the first elements of the whole of Nature; so proceeding without order, and confusing Nature with abstractions [35] (although they are true axioms), they confuse themselves and overturn [II/29] the order of Nature. But we shall not need to fear any such deception, if we proceed as far as we can in a manner that is not abstract, and begin as soon as possible from the first elements, i.e., from the source and origin of Nature.56

[5] [76]57 But as for knowledge of the origin of Nature, we need not have any fear of confusing it with abstractions. For when things are conceived abstractly (as all universals are), they always have a wider extension in our intellect than their particulars can really have in nature. And then, since there are many things in nature whose difference [10] is so slight that it almost escapes the intellect, it can easily happen, if they are conceived abstractly, that they are confused. But since, as we shall see later, the origin of Nature can neither be conceived abstractly, or universally, nor be extended more widely in the intellect than it really is, and since it has no likeness to changeable things, we [15] need fear no confusion concerning its idea, provided that we have the standard of truth (which we have already shown). For it is a unique and infinitez being, beyond which there is no being.a

[77] So far we have been speaking of the false idea. It remains now [20] to investigate the doubtful idea—i.e., to ask what are the things that can lead us into doubt, and at the same time, how doubt is removed. I am speaking of true doubt in the mind, and not of what we commonly see happen, when someone says in words that he doubts, although his mind does not doubt. For it is not the business of the Method to emend that. That belongs rather to the investigation of [25] stubbornness, and its emendation.

[78] There is no doubt in the soul, therefore, through the thing itself concerning which one doubts. That is, if there should be only one idea in the soul, then, whether it is true or false, there will be neither doubt nor certainty, but only a sensation of a certain sort. For in itself [this idea] is nothing but a sensation of a certain sort.

[30] But doubt will arise through another idea which is not so clear and distinct that we can infer from it something certain about the thing [II/30] concerning which there is doubt. That is, the idea that puts us in doubt is not clear and distinct. For example, if someone has never been led, either by experience or by anything else, to think about the deceptiveness of the senses, he will never doubt whether the sun is larger or smaller than it appears to be. So Country People are generally [5] surprised when they hear that the sun is much larger than the earth. But in thinking about the deceptiveness of the senses, doubt arises. I.e., [the person] knows that his senses have sometimes deceived him, but he knows this only confusedly; for he does not know how the senses deceive.58 And if someone, after doubting, acquires a true knowledge of the senses and of how, by their means, things at a [10] distance are presented, then the doubt is again removed.

[79] From this it follows that, only so long as we have no clear and distinct idea of God, can we call true ideas in doubt by supposing that perhaps some deceiving God exists, who misleads us even in the things most certain. I.e., if we attend to the knowledge we have concerning [15] the origin of all things and do not discover—by the same knowledge we have when, attending to the nature of the triangle, we discover that its three angles equal two right angles—anything that teaches us that he is not a deceiver [NS:, then the doubt remains]. But if we have the kind of knowledge of God that we have of the triangle, then all [20] doubt is removed. And just as we can arrive at such a knowledge of the triangle, even though we may not know certainly whether some supreme deceiver misleads us, so we can arrive at such a knowledge of God, even though we may not know whether there is some supreme deceiver. Provided we have that knowledge, it will suffice, as I have [25] said, to remove every doubt that we can have concerning clear and distinct ideas.

[80] Further, if someone proceeds rightly, by investigating [first] those things which ought to be investigated first, with no interruption in the connection of things, and knows how to define problems precisely,59 before striving for knowledge of them, he will never have anything but the most certain ideas—i.e., clear and distinct ideas. For [30] doubt is nothing but the suspension of the mind concerning some affirmation or negation, which it would affirm or deny if something did not occur to it, the ignorance of which must render its knowledge of the thing imperfect. From this it is [to be] inferred that doubt always arises from the fact that things are investigated without order.

[35] [81] These are the matters I promised to discuss in this first part of [II/31] the Method. But to omit nothing that can lead to knowledge of the intellect and its powers, I shall say a few words about memory and forgetting. The most important consideration is that memory is strengthened both with the aid of the intellect and also without its aid. [5] For regarding the first, the more intelligible a thing is, the more easily it is retained; and conversely, the less intelligible, the more easily forgotten. E.g., if I give someone a large number of disconnected words, he will retain them with much more difficulty than if I give him the same words in the form of a story.

[82] It is also strengthened without the aid the intellect, by the force [10] with which the imagination, or what they call the common sense, is affected by some singular corporeal thing. I say singular, for the imagination is affected only by singular things. If someone, e.g., has read only one Comedy,60 he will retain it best so long as he does not read several others of that kind, for then it will flourish in isolation in the [15] imagination. But if there are several of the same kind, we imagine them all together and they are easily confused. I say also corporeal, for the imagination is affected only by bodies. Therefore since the memory is strengthened both by the intellect and also without the intellect, we may infer that it is something different from the intellect, and that concerning the intellect considered in itself there is neither memory nor forgetting.

[20] [83] What, then, will memory be? Nothing but a sensation of impressions on the brain, together with the thought of a determinate durationd of the sensation, which recollection also shows. For there the soul thinks of that sensation, but not under a continuous duration. And so the idea of that sensation is not the duration itself of the sensation, [25] i.e., the memory itself. But whether the ideas themselves undergo some corruption, we shall see in [my] Philosophy.

If this seems quite absurd to anyone, it will suffice for our purpose if he thinks that the more singular a thing is, the more easily it may be retained, as the example of the Comedy just mentioned makes clear. [II/32] Further, the more intelligible a thing is, the more easily it too is retained. So we cannot but retain a thing that is most singular if only it is also intelligible.

[84] In this way, then, we have distinguished between a true idea [5] and other perceptions, and shown that the fictitious, the false, and the other ideas have their origin in the imagination, i.e., in certain sensations that are fortuitous, and (as it were) disconnected; since they do not arise from the very power of the mind, but from external causes, as the body (whether waking or dreaming) receives various motions.

[10] But if you wish, take imagination any way you like here, provided it is something different from the intellect, and in which the soul has the nature of something acted on. For it is all the same, however you take it, after we know that it is something random, by which the soul is acted on, and at the same time know how we are freed from it with the help of the intellect. So let no one be surprised that here, where I [15] have not yet proved that there is a body, and other necessary things, I speak of the imagination, the body and its constitution. For as I have said, it does not matter what I take it to be, after I know that it is something random, etc.62

[85] We have shown that a true idea is simple, or composed of [20] simple ideas; that it shows how and why something is, or has been done; and that its objective effects proceed in the soul according to the formal nature of its object. This is the same as what the ancients said, i.e., that true knowledge proceeds from cause to effect—except that so far as I know they never conceived the soul (as we do here) as acting [25] according to certain laws, like a spiritual automaton.

[86] From this we have acquired as much knowledge of our intellect as was possible in the beginning, and such a standard of the true idea that now we do not fear confusing true ideas with false or fictitious ones. Nor will we wonder why we understand certain things that do [30] not fall in any way under the imagination, why there are some things in the imagination which are completely opposed to the intellect, and finally why there are others that agree with the intellect; for we know that those activities by which imaginations are produced happen according to other laws, wholly different from the laws of the intellect, and that in imagination the soul only has the nature of something acted on.

[35] [87] From this it is also established how easily they can fall into [II/33] great errors, who have not accurately distinguished between imagination and intellection. Such errors as: that extension must be in a place, that it must be finite, that its parts must be really distinguished from one another, that it is the first and only foundation of all things, [5] that it occupies more space at one time than at another, and many other things of the same kind, all of which are completely opposed to the truth, as we shall show in the proper place.

[88] Next, since words are part of the imagination, i.e., since we feign many concepts, in accordance with the random composition of [10] words in the memory from some disposition of the body, it is not to be doubted that words, as much as the imagination, can be the cause of many and great errors, unless we are very wary of them.

[89] Moreover, they are established according to the pleasure and power of understanding of ordinary people, so that they are only signs of things as they are in the imagination, but not as they are in the [15] intellect. This is clear from the fact that the names given to things that are only in the intellect, and not in the imagination, are often negative (for example, infinite, incorporeal, etc.), and also from the fact that they express negatively many things that are really affirmative, and conversely (for example, uncreated, independent, infinite, [20] immortal). Because the contraries of these are much more easily imagined, they occurred first to the earliest men, and they used positive names. We affirm and deny many things because the nature of words—not the nature of things—allows us to affirm them. And in our ignorance of this, we easily take something false to be true.

[25] [90] We avoid, moreover, another great cause of confusion which prevents the intellect from reflecting on itself—viz. when we do not distinguish between imagination and intellection, we think that the things we more easily imagine are clearer to us, and think we understand what we imagine. Hence, what should be put later we put first, [30] and so the true order of making progress is overturned, and no conclusion is arrived at legitimately.

[91]e To arrive finally at the second part of this Method, I shall set [II/34] forth first our aim in this Method, and then the means to attain it. The aim, then, is to have clear and distinct ideas, i.e., such as have been made from the pure mind, and not from fortuitous motions of the body. And then, so that all ideas may be led back to one, we shall [5] strive to connect and order them so that our mind, as far as possible, reproduces objectively the formal character of nature, both as to the whole and as to the parts.

[92] As for the first, our ultimate end requires (as we have already said) that the thing be conceived either through its essence alone or [10] through its proximate cause. If the thing is in itself, or, as is commonly said, is the cause of itself, then it must be understood through its essence alone; but if it is not in itself, but requires a cause to exist, then it must be understood through its proximate cause. For really, knowledgef of the effect is nothing but acquiring a more perfect knowledge of its cause.

[15] [93] Therefore, so long as we are dealing with the Investigation of things, we must never infer anything from abstractions, and we shall take very great care not to mix up the things that are only in the intellect with those that are real. But the best conclusion will have to be drawn from some particular affirmative essence, or, from a true and [20] legitimate definition. For from universal axioms alone the intellect cannot descend to singulars, since axioms extend to infinity, and do not determine the intellect to the contemplation of one singular thing rather than another.

[94] So the right way of discovery is to form thoughts from some given definition. This will proceed the more successfully and easily, [25] the better we have defined a thing. So the chief point of this second part of the Method is concerned solely with this: knowing the conditions of a good definition, and then, the way of finding good definitions. First, therefore, I shall deal with the conditions of definition.

[95] To be called perfect, a definition will have to explain the inmost [30] essence of the thing, and to take care not to use certain propria in its place. So as not to seem bent on uncovering the errors of others, I shall use only the example of an abstract thing to explain this. For it [II/35] is the same however it is defined. If a circle, for example, is defined as a figure in which the lines drawn from the center to the circumference are equal, no one fails to see that such a definition does not at all explain the essence of the circle, but only a property of it. And though, as I have said, this does not matter much concerning figures and other [5] beings of reason, it matters a great deal concerning Physical and real beings, because the properties of things are not understood so long as their essences are not known. If we neglect them, we shall necessarily overturn the connection of the intellect, which ought to reproduce the connection of Nature, and we shall completely miss our goal.

[10] [96] These are the requirements which must be satisfied in Definition, if we are to be free of this fault:

1. If the thing is created, the definition, as we have said, will have to include the proximate cause. E.g., according to this law, a circle would have to be defined as follows: it is the figure that [15] is described by any line of which one end is fixed and the other movable. This definition clearly includes the proximate cause.63

2. We require a concept, or definition, of the thing such that when it is considered alone, without any others conjoined, all the thing’s properties can be deduced from it (as may be seen in this definition [20] of the circle). For from it we clearly infer that all the lines drawn from the center to the circumference are equal.

That this is a necessary requirement of a definition is so plain through itself to the attentive that it does not seem worth taking time to demonstrate it, nor to show also, from this second requirement, that every definition must be affirmative.

[25] I mean intellectual affirmation—it matters little whether the definition is verbally affirmative; because of the poverty of language it will sometimes, perhaps, [only] be able to be expressed negatively, although it is understood affirmatively.

[97] These are the requirments for the definition of an uncreated thing:

1. That it should exclude every cause, i.e., that the object should [30] require nothing else except its own being for its explanation.64

2. That, given the definition of this thing, there should remain no room for the Question—does it exist?

3. That (as far as the mind is concerned) it should have no substantives that could be changed into adjectives, i.e., that it should not be explained through any abstractions.

[35] 4. Finally (though it is not very necessary to note this) it is required [II/36] that all its properties be inferred65 from its definition.

All these things are evident to those who attend to them accurately.

[98] I have also said that the best conclusion will have to be drawn from a particular affirmative essence. For the more particular an idea [5] is, the more distinct, and therefore the clearer it is. So we ought to seek knowledge of particulars as much as possible.

[99] As for order, to unite and order all our perceptions, it is required, and reason demands,66 that we ask, as soon as possible, whether there is a certain being, and at the same time, what sort of being it is, [10] which is the cause of all things, so that its objective essence may also be the cause of all our ideas, and then our mind will (as we have said)67 reproduce Nature as much as possible. For it will have Nature’s essence, order, and unity objectively.

From this we can see that above all it is necessary for us always to [15] deduce all our ideas from Physical things, or from the real beings, proceeding, as far as possible, according to the series of causes, from one real being to another real being, in such a way that we do not pass over to abstractions and universals, neither inferring something real from them, nor inferring them from something real. For to do [20] either interferes with the true progress of the intellect.

[100] But note that by the series of causes and of real beings I do not here understand the series of singular, changeable things, but only the series of fixed and eternal things. For it would be impossible for human weakness to grasp the series of singular, changeable things, not [25] only because there are innumerably many of them, but also because of the infinite circumstances in one and the same thing, any of which can be the cause of its existence or nonexistence. For their existence has no connection with their essence, or (as we have already said) is not an eternal truth.

[30] [101] But there is also no need for us to understand their series. The essences of singular, changeable things are not to be drawn from their series, or order of existing, since it offers us nothing but extrinsic denominations, relations, or at most, circumstances, all of which are [35] far from the inmost essence of things. That essence is to be sought [II/37] only from the fixed and eternal things, and at the same time from the laws inscribed in these things, as in their true codes, according to which all singular things come to be, and are ordered. Indeed these singular, changeable things depend so intimately, and (so to speak) essentially, on the fixed things that they can neither be nor be conceived [5] without them. So although these fixed and eternal things are singular, nevertheless, because of their presence everywhere, and most extensive power, they will be to us like universals, or genera of the definitions of singular, changeable things, and the proximate causes of all things.

[10] [102] But since this is so, there seems to be a considerable difficulty in our being able to arrive at knowledge of these singular things. For to conceive them all at once is a task far beyond the powers of the human intellect. But to understand one before the other, the order must be sought, as we have said, not from their series of existing, nor [15] even from the eternal things. For there, by nature, all these things are at once. So other aids will have to be sought beyond those we use to understand the eternal things and their laws.

Nevertheless, this is not the place to treat them, nor is it necessary until after we have acquired a sufficient knowledge of the eternal things [20] and their infallible laws, and the nature of our senses has become known to us. [103] Before we equip ourselves for knowledge of singular things, there will be time to treat those aids, all of which serve to help us know how to use our senses and to make, according to certain laws, and in order, the experiments that will suffice to determine [25] the thing we are seeking, so that at last we may infer from them according to what laws of eternal things it was made, and its inmost nature may become known to us, as I shall show in its place.68

Here, to return to our theme, I shall only try to treat those things that seem necessary for us to be able to arrive at knowledge of eternal things, and for us to form their definitions according to the conditions [30] laid down above. [104] To do this, we must recall what we said above:69 when the mind attends to a thought—to weigh it, and deduce from it, in good order, the things legitimately to be deduced from it—if it is false, the mind will uncover the falsity; but if it is true, the mind will [35] continue successfully, without any interruption, to deduce true things [II/38] from it. This, I say, is required for our purpose. For our thoughts cannot be determined from any other foundation.70 [105] If, therefore, we wish to investigate the first thing of all, there must be some foundation that directs our thoughts to it.

[5] Next, because Method is reflexive knowledge itself, this foundation, which must direct our thoughts, can be nothing other than knowledge of what constitutes the form of truth, and knowledge of the intellect, and its properties and powers. For once we have acquired this [knowledge], we shall have the foundation from which we shall deduce our [10] thoughts and the way by which the intellect, according to its capacity, will be able to reach the knowledge of eternal things, with due regard, of course, to its own powers.

[106] But if forming true ideas pertains to the nature of thought, as shown in the first part, here we must investigate what we understand [15] by the powers of the intellect. Since the chief part of our Method is to understand as well as possible the powers of the intellect, and its nature, we are necessarily forced, by what I have taught in this second part of the Method, to deduce these from the very definition of thought and intellect.

[107] But so far we have had no rules for discovering definitions. [20] And because we cannot give them unless the nature, or definition, of the intellect, and its power are known, it follows that either the definition of the intellect must be clear through itself, or else we can understand nothing. It is not, however, absolutely clear through itself; but because its properties (like all the things we have from intellect) [25] cannot be perceived clearly and distinctly unless their nature is known, if we attend to the properties of the intellect that we understand clearly and distinctly, its definition will become known through itself. We shall, therefore, enumerate the properties of the intellect here, and consider them, and begin to deal with out innate tools.g

[30] [108] The properties of the intellect which I have chiefly noted, and understand clearly, are these:

1. That it involves certainty, i.e., that the intellect knows that things are formally as they are contained objectively in itself.

2. That it perceives certain things, or forms certain ideas, absolutely, [II/39] and forms certain ideas from others. For it forms the idea of quantity absolutely, without attending to other thoughts, but it forms the ideas of motion only by attending to the idea of quantity.

3. Those that it forms absolutely express infinity, but determinate [5] ideas it forms from others. For if it perceives the idea of a quantity through a cause, then it determines [that idea] through [the idea] of a quantity,71 as when it perceives that a body arises from the motion of some plane, a plane from the motion of a line, and finally, a line from the motion of a point. These perceptions do not help to understand the quantity, but only to determine it. [10] This is evident from the fact that we conceive them as arising from the motion, although the motion is not perceived unless the quantity is perceived, and also because we can continue the motion to form a line to infinity, which we could not do at all, if we did not have the idea of infinite quantity.

[15] 4. It forms positive ideas before negative ones.

5. It perceives things not so much under duration as under a certain species of eternity, and in an infinite number—or rather, to perceive things, it attends neither to number nor to duration; but when it imagines things, it perceives them under a certain [20] number, determinate duration and quantity.

6. The clear and distinct ideas that we form seem to follow so from the necessity of our nature alone that they seem to depend absolutely on our power alone. But with confused ideas it is quite the contrary—they are often formed against our will.

[25] 7. The mind can determine in many ways the ideas of things that the intellect forms from others—as, for example, to determine the plane of an ellipse, it feigns that a pen attached to a cord is moved around two centers, or conceives infinitely many points always having the same definite relation to some given straight line, or a [30] cone cut by some oblique plane, so that the angle of inclination is greater than the angle of the cone’s vertex, or in infinite other ways.

8. The more ideas express of the perfection of some object, the more perfect they are. For we do not admire the architect who has designed a chapel so much as one who has designed a notable [35] temple.

[II/40] [109] I shall not linger over the other things that are referred to thought, such as love, joy, etc. For they contribute nothing to our present purpose, nor can they be conceived unless the intellect is perceived. For if perception is altogether taken away, then all these are taken away.

[5] [110] False and fictitious ideas have nothing positive (as we have shown abundantly) through which they are called false or fictitious, but they are considered as such only from a defect of our knowledge. So false and fictitious ideas, as such, can teach us nothing concerning the essence of thought. It is rather to be sought from the positive [10] properties just surveyed, i.e., we must now establish something common from which these properties necessarily follow, or such that when it is given, they are necessarily given, and when it is taken away, they are taken away.

The rest is lacking.

1 Spinoza describes his opusculum as being devoted to the question “how things began to be and by what connection they depend on the first cause … and also on the emendation of the intellect.” This strongly suggests that our TdIE was part of the opusculum. But Mignini has cast doubt on this. See the annotation at IV/36/13.

2 I would be inclined to say earlier than Letter 2 at least, i.e., before September 1661, for reasons suggested in the annotation at II/9/12. Cf. Mignini 2, 106. If, as Mignini thinks, the TdIE is earlier than the KV, and if, as he also thinks, the first draft of the KV was written around the middle of 1660 (see Mignini 1, 239), then the TdIE would have been written a good deal earlier than the spring of 1662.

3 Notably II/29, n. z. On the other hand, some of the things promised in the forward references do not appear in our version of the KV any more than they do in E, e.g., the extended discussion of wealth foreshadowed in II/6, n. a.

4 Mignini contends that the teaching of the KV is closer to that of E than is the teaching of the TdIE in regard to the following topics: the nature of the intellect and the doctrine of method, the theory of the kinds of knowledge, the nature of fictions, the will, final causation and perfection. This is not the place for a discussion of his arguments, but I will observe that my own attempt to study the development of Spinoza’s thought about truth (Curley 9), an attempt made before I was aware of Mignini’s work, would have proceeded more smoothly had I adopted his chronology.

5 This, essentially, is the judgment of M. Matheron, in a recent review of Mignini’s work (Bulletin de l’Association des Amis de Spinoza, no. 10, 1983): “Si les arguments positifs avancés par Mignini, bien qu’ils donnent beaucoup à penser, ne sont peut-être tout à fait convaincants (personellement j’avoue hésiter encore sur ce point), ses arguments négatifs, en revanche, sont décisifs: nous admettions tous comme allant de soi, parce qu’on nous l’avait enseigné, que le C.T.[i.e., KV] était antérieur au TRE [i.e., TdIE], et Mignini démontre qu’il n’y avait à cela absolument aucune raison!”

6 See Joachim 2, 59, and cf. Mignini 2, 140. Joachim construes this as a survival of Cartesian doctrines advocated in the KV. Mignini, it seems, regards it as evidence of the priority of the TdIE to the KV. I myself am not satisfied with the evidence that Spinoza adopts the Cartesian distinction between will and intellect either in the TdIE or in the KV. For example, it seems to me that § 78 of the TdIE effectively anticipates Spinoza’s critique of the Cartesian doctrine of suspense of judgment in E IIP49S. And I take it that KV II, xiv, also criticizes the Cartesian distinction, though on different grounds.

7 See the annotation at II/9/12.

8 See Curley 2; cf. Joachim 2, 24-33.

9 Cf. Joachim 2, 89-90.

10 So Joachim argues at any rate. Cf. Joachim 2, 102-111.

1 By the editors of the Opera posthuma.

2 The translation of this title is disputed. The Latin for the main title is Tractatus de Intellectus Emendatione, the Dutch Handeling van de Verbetering van’t Verstant. Joachim (2, 1) argued that no English term could reproduce the exact implications of the Latin, but recommended “Purification of the Intellect” as rightly suggesting a project of restoring the intellect to its “natural perfection, by eliminating from it … ideas which are not its own but have come to it from an external source.” DeDeugd’s criticism of Joachim (1, 50-57), while rightly pointing out that the Dutch version cannot plausibly bear that meaning, gives insufficient weight to § 16. Eisenberg (3) argues that no term can reproduce the exact implications of the Latin, since Spinoza’s phrase has no exact implications. At the time of writing this work Spinoza inconsistently conceived of the intellect both as inherently pure and as needing purification. He did not clearly distinguish between the mind, which cannot be entirely freed of external influences, and the intellect, which has no need to be. No translation will solve such difficulties.

The subtitle in the NS reads: “and at the same time of the means of making it perfect.”

a I could explain this more fully and distinctly, by distinguishing wealth that is sought for its own sake, or for the sake of honor, or for the sake of sensual pleasure or for the sake of health and the advancement of the arts and sciences. But I reserve this for its own place; such an exact investigation is not appropriate here.

3 The choice of this particular trinity is probably influenced by Aristotle. Cf. the Nicomachean Ethics I, 4, and the Short Treatise II, v, 6.

4 “Modò possem penitùs deliberare.” Deliberare can mean ‘to deliberate’ and most translators have given us something like “If only I could reflect thoroughly [on the matter].” But deliberare can also mean ‘to decide as a consequence of deliberation’ and I follow Koyré in thinking that to be the meaning here. When Spinoza comments on this phrase in § 10 it seems clear that he thinks of his difficulty as more volitional than intellectual. Cf. E IVP14.

b These things are to be demonstrated more accurately.

5 The NS has: “often cause the destruction of those who possess them (if one may speak thus), and always of those who are possessed by wealth.” It seems likely that the parenthesis is an addition by the translator and bears on the notion of being possessed by wealth.

6 OP: “Sed amor erga rem aeternam, & infinitam solâ laetitiâ pascit animum, ipsaque omnis tristitiae est expers”; NS: “Maar de liefde tot d’eeuwige en oneindige zaak voed de geest [margin: mens] met blÿschap alleen, en is van alle droefheit uitgesloten.” The translation of this important passage is disputed. Joachim (2, 18, n.4) notes that various translators have rendered it as if it were the love that was exempt from sadness (which makes the Latin ungrammatical, but is what the Dutch implies). He, however, sees here a foreshadowing of the doctrine that God is exempt from sadness. (I.e., ipsa refers not to amor, but the eternal and infinite thing.) This is possible, both grammatically and philosophically, but Joachim surely goes too far when he contends that this interpretation is necessary to explain why love for God feeds the mind with unmixed joy. Appuhn, Koyré, and Caillois all take ipsa to refer to laetitia, an alternative Joachim does not discuss, and to my mind the one most likely.

7 “Modò possem seriò deliberare.” In referring back to II/6/21 Spinoza does not in fact quote himself exactly.

8 Wendel and Cassirer thought it necessary to emend this passage so that it would read: “man conceives a nature much stronger than his own human nature.” But I find Gebhardt’s arguments against this conclusive (II/322-323). The text as it stands is supported by the NS and paralleled by passages both in the Short Treatise (II,4; I/60/21ff.) and the Ethics (IV, Pref., II/208). Koyré (2, 98-99) is right to remark that the passage is a difficult one on any reading, but his comments do not seem to me to stress sufficiently the necessity both of man’s conceiving such a stronger nature and of his striving to attain it.

c These things will be explained more fully in their place.

d Note that here I take the trouble only to enumerate the sciences necessary for our purpose, without attending to their order.

e In the sciences there is only one end, toward which they must all be directed.

9 If this is taken, as it may be, to mean “knowledge that man is a part of nature, and subject to its universal laws,” then the doctrine is very Stoic. Cf. Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, VII, 9-13; X,6. But the passage is also one which, more than any other perhaps, encourages the interpretation of Spinoza as a mystic.

10 That the intellect requires purification (expurgatio) is a Baconian doctrine. Cf. the Novum Organum (Bacon, I, 139 = IV, 27). For healing (medendi) the NS has simply “improving” (verbeteren). Eisenberg (3, 175) argues that passages like this one are symptomatic of a tendency to confuse the intellect with the mind “at least during much of the time that he wrote the treatise.” And since, in Letter 2 (IV/8-9), Spinoza is quite critical of Bacon for not distinguishing the intellect from the mind, and for supposing that the intellect is deceived by its own nature, it seems likely that, by the time of writing that letter (September 1661), Spinoza would have regarded passages like this as unsatisfactory. Note that in that letter Spinoza criticizes Bacon for comparing the intellect to an uneven mirror (cf. Bacon, I, 164). A similar comparison occurs in the purification of the intellect passage cited above, except that there it is the mind that is compared to an uneven mirror. See also Mignini 2, 106.

11 Latin: “intellectum … redigamus.” NS: “het verstant … te brengen.” But the language of purification in the preceding paragraph seems to justify the suggestion of returning to an original state of rectitude.

12 NS: “zuiveren,” purify.

13 NS: “three”; but it goes on to enumerate four kinds, as the OP does. Gebhardt thought this might naturally be explained on the assumption that in an earlier draft of the Treatise Spinoza had divided the kinds of ‘knowledge’ into three (as in the Short Treatise and the Ethics) rather than four. He also took it as evidence that the Dutch translation was made, not from the text of the Opera posthuma, but from an independent, earlier manuscript, in which revisions were not consistently carried out. For counter-argument see Mignini 2, 126-127.

14 On the translation here, and on the classification generally, see Joachim 2, 24-33, and Curley 2, 25-59.

15 As Joachim notes, this passage echoes one in Bacon, Novum Organum I, 100 (Bacon, I,203 [= IV, 95]). He also calls attention to aphorisms 25, 70, and 105. Perhaps Bacon’s influence is also to be seen in Descartes’ Regulae, AT X, 427.

f When this happens, we understand nothing about the cause except what we consider in the effect. This is sufficiently evident from the fact that then the cause is explained only in very general terms, e.g., Therefore there is something, Therefore there is some power, etc. Or also from the fact that the terms express the cause negatively, Therefore it is not this, or that, etc. In the second case something clearly conceived is attributed to the cause on account of the effect, as we shall show in an example; but nothing is attributed to it except propria, not the essence of a particular thing.16

16 OP: “In secundo casu aliquid causae tribuitur propter effectum, quod clarè conciptur, ut in exemplo ostendimus; verùm nihil praeter propria, non verò rei essentia particularis.” This note has more than its share of difficulties. (1) What does in secundo casu refer to? Eisenberg suggests that it could be translated “in a (more) favorable case,” adding a third case to the two already mentioned in the note, but neither he nor I thinks it very likely. Or it could be translated as I have it and refer to the case described in the immediately preceding sentence. But this does not make much sense of the note. Or it could refer to the second case mentioned in the text, in spite of the fact that the note as a whole is attached to the first disjunct. I opt for the third alternative. (2) What is the antecedent of quod clare concipitur? Eisenberg thinks it is obviously effectus, in spite of the gender difficulties. I follow Joachim in taking it to be aliquid. (3) What does particularis modify? Most translators have favored essentia. I follow the NS (along with Joachim and Eisenberg) in making it modify rei, though grammar is neutral on the question. See also the note on proprium in the English-Latin-Dutch section of the Glossary-Index.

17 OP: “vel cùm concluditur ab aliquo universali, quod semper aliqua proprietas concomitatur”; the NS in effect supplies causa as the subject of concluditur: “when one infers the cause from some universal which is always accompanied by some property.” Elwes takes the quod clause as subject: “when it is inferred from some general proposition that some property is always present.” Koyré has: “when one draws a conclusion from the fact that a universal is always accompanied by a certain property.” Interpreting Spinoza’s note f as I do, I would say that the something which is inferred is a clearly conceived property of a cause, though this is inconsistent with the general description of this kind of knowledge at II/10/16. I am not much moved by the latter consideration, since the second example given in § 21 is also inconsistent with the general description. See the discussions in Joachim 2, 30-32, and Curley 2, 40-49.

g We see clearly from this example what I have just noted. For we understand nothing through that union except the sensation itself, that is, the effect,19 from which we inferred the cause, concerning which we understand nothing.

h Although such a conclusion is certain, it is still not sufficiently safe, unless we take the greatest care. For those who do not take such care will immediately fall into errors. When things are conceived so abstractly, and not through their true essence, they are immediately confused by the imagination. What in itself is one, men imagine to be many. For to the things they conceive abstractly, separately, and confusedly, they give names which they use to signify other more familiar things. Hence they imagine these things in the same way as they are accustomed to imagine the things to which the names were first given.

18 I follow Appuhn, Koyré et al., in supplying “one thing” here; parallelism with II/10/16 would require the “essence of a thing,” but the strict accuracy of that description is put in some doubt both by the second example Spinoza gives and by his note to II/10/17.

19 OP: effectus, which is ungrammatical, given seventeenth-century conventions about the use of accents. Gebhardt emends to: effectûs, “of the effect.” But most translators have preferred to emend to effectum, which is supported by the NS, and which I take to be correct.

20 Cf. § 78.

21 OP: “quales,” ‘what kind of;’ but NS: welke. Cf. Joachim 2, 31, n. 2.

22 Here I adopt Joachim’s emendation of the numbering and punctuation. Joachim 2, 34, n 2.

23 OP: “singularis existentia alicujus rei.” As at II/10/34, this is ambiguous. Here the NS take singularis to modify existentia, but wrongly, I think.

i Here I shall discuss experience somewhat more fully, and examine the Method of proceeding of the Empiricists and of the new Philosophers [NS: … the Empiricists, who want to do everything through experience …].

24 OP: “illius,” NS: “enige.” Perhaps we should read: ullius, ‘any’.

25 The comparison which follows may have been suggested by any of various passages in Bacon [e.g., I, 126 (= IV, 14); I, 152 (= IV, 40); I, 157 (= IV, 47)]. But as Joachim notes (2, 53), Spinoza makes a rather different use of the comparison. Similar remarks apply to a passage in Descartes’ Regulae (AT X, 397). Neither Bacon nor Descartes uses the analogy to counter a threatened regress.

k By inborn power I understand what is not caused in us by external causes. I shall explain this afterwards in my Philosophy.

l Here they are called works. In my Philosophy, I shall explain what they are.

m Note that here we shall take care to show not only what we have just said, but also that we have so far proceeded rightly, and at the same time other things that it is quite necessary to know.

26 Spinoza does seem to mean that these inborn tools are needed only provisionally, until better ones can be made with them, though as Joachim remarks (2, 54, n. 1) this is obscure. Other translators (e.g., Appuhn, Koyré) take Spinoza to mean that these inborn tools are all the intellect requires to make more advanced ones.

27 NS: “The true idea.” But I take it that this must be a generalizing use of the definite article, since no basis has been laid for reference to any particular true idea (or for any assumption that, ultimately, there is only one true idea).

28 Joachim (2, 54, n. 2, 80, n. 1) contends that by a “true idea of Peter” Spinoza here means the true idea which someone else may have of Peter. The example Spinoza gives at the end of this paragraph seems to confirm this.

n Note that here we are not asking how the first objective essence is inborn in us. For that pertains to the investigation of nature, where we explain these things more fully, and at the same time show that apart from the idea there is neither affirmation, nor negation, nor any will.

o In my Philosophy, I shall explain what seeking is in the soul.

29 OP: “modus, quo sentimus essentiam formalem.” It is unclear whether modus should be taken as a technical term here.

30 Perhaps, as Joachim suggests (2, 162, n. 4), we should read et for aut here: “Reasoning and intellection.”

31 OP: “datae verae ideae”; NS: “ ’t gestelde ware denkbeelt.” Koyré argues that the term datae in this kind of expression is best suppressed, since it does not imply what it is likely to suggest, viz. that the true idea is given to us. All that is implied is that there is a true idea. Gueroult (1, 1:30, n. 42) argues against this that the qualification implies that the true idea is an actual eternal essence in the infinite or finite intellect, and hence produced by God, not by the intellect. Man finds the Idea “en lui sans lui.” Although uncertain of the correctness of Gueroult’s interpretation, I find it impossible to follow Koyré’s policy, which seems to lead to serious difficulty in contexts like § 43.

p To interact with other things is to produce, or be produced by, other things.

32 The NS version of this sentence runs: “If there were something in nature that did not interact with other things, then its objective essence, which would have to agree completely with the formal essence, would also not interact with other ideas, i.e., we would not be able to understand or infer anything about it.” I have translated the Latin (as emended by Gebhardt to correct a grammatical mistake); Gebhardt thinks it obvious that the conditionalization of the reference to the objective essence is a change made by Spinoza after the Dutch translation was done. But I share Joachim’s feeling (2, 100, n. 2) that the Dutch makes better sense. Gebhardt also adds a phrase in l. 31 from the Dutch, so that the conclusion of the sentence might be translated: “we could neither understand nor infer.…” But it is very unlikely that this indicates an earlier and fuller version of the text. Probably it represents nothing more than the use of two Dutch verbs to render one Latin one.

33 OP: “ut mens nostra omninò referat Naturae exemplar.” It is difficult to be confident about the translation of this clause. Joachim (2, 100) offers: “that our mind may reflect ideally in all respects its real Original—i.e., may reflect the formal essence of Nature in its totality and in all its parts,” drawing on § 91 for the gloss. As Joachim points out later (215, n. 1) this passage is prima facie incompatible with his interpretation of Spinoza’s conception of truth.

q As we also do not here doubt the truth we possess.

34 I believe § 104 provides a helpful gloss on this passage.

35 There is no negation in either the OP or the NS, but most editors have felt the need to supply one. If one is supplied, then it seems we must also assume a gap in the text after “I reply to him.” Koyré understands the text in this fashion, and conjectures that Spinoza eventually came to regard the objection as well-founded, so that he concentrated on the Ethics and put the Treatise to one side (cf. his note to this passage, and the Avant-propos).

Gebhardt at one stage thought likewise, but by the time he produced his edition of the Works had come to the conclusion that the text must be defended, not emended (II/326-327). He takes Spinoza to be replying not to an objection to his procedure here, but to an objection to his procedure in his projected Philosophy. Eisenberg (1, 45-49, n. 82) joins Gebhardt in defending the text.

I prefer Koyré’s reading. I cannot deal fully here with the arguments offered by Gebhardt and Eisenberg, but I will make the following observations: (1) the text of the OP is supported by the NS, but if the conjectured omissions were in Spinoza’s ms., this confirmation does not amount to much; quite possibly the ms. contained a passage which Spinoza struck out and never replaced; (2) I do not see why the emendation would make § 46 a mere duplication of II/17/8-34; (3) if Spinoza were switching suddenly from a defense of his procedure in the TdIE to a defense of his procedure in his Philosophy, I would expect a more explicit indication of it; (4) Eisenberg construes ostenderim in II/18/2 as a future perfect (indicative): “If anyone should seek [perhaps] to know why I shall have shown the truths of Nature in that order at once, before everything.…” But both morphology and syntax require us to construe it as present perfect subjunctive. And the concluding line of the paragraph (in which Eisenberg construes praemiserim as present perfect subjunctive) makes it clear that Spinoza intends to defend what he has already done.

r See further what we shall note concerning hypotheses that we clearly understand; but the fiction consists in our saying that such as these exist in the heavenly bodies.

36 OP: “somnum,” but NS: “dromen.” So probably we should read: somnium.

37 NS: “eerste/prima.” So perhaps Spinoza originally wrote: “first cause.”

38 Gebhardt adds the phrase “in existing” from the NS, but I agree with Joachim (2, 116, n. 2) that this is at least unnecessary, if not wrong. Similarly Gebhardt’s addition at II/19/1 seems wrong given that Spinoza goes on (both in the OP and in the NS) to enumerate a fourth task of the method. His text would be translated: “Third [NS: and finally]”.…

s Because the thing makes itself evident, provided it is understood, we require only an example, without other proof. The same is true of its contradictory—it need only be examined for its falsity to be clear. This will be plain immediately, when we speak of fictions concerning essence.

t Note. Although many say that they doubt whether God exists, nevertheless they have nothing but the name, or they feign something which they call God; this does not agree with the nature of God, as I shall show later in the proper place.

u By an eternal truth I mean one, which, if it is affirmative, will never be able to be negative. Thus it is a first and eternal truth that God is; but that Adam thinks is not an eternal truth. That there is no Chimera is an eternal truth; but not that Adam does not think.

39 Joachim (ibid.) suggests reading essentia, though the OP’s existentia is supported by the NS. If it were not for the immediately following phrase (ipsâ suâ naturâ), I would think this almost certainly correct. I have translated the Latin as it stands, but (with Eisenberg) I feel certain that what Spinoza means is that the essence of the thing by itself does not entail either that the thing cannot, or that it must, exist.

40 The text of the OP would be translated: “From this it follows that, if there is a God, or something omniscient, we (nos) can feign nothing at all.” Since this makes very little sense, earlier editors and translators often supplied a phrase to fill it out: “we can feign nothing at all about it.” Gebhardt’s text, which I have translated, reads eum for nos, following the NS. Slightly preferable, perhaps, would be van Vloten and Land’s hoc (= this being) for nos. Textual emendation is a dangerous game, but if anything in this area is certain, we can be sure that the text of the OP is corrupt. For a full discussion see Gebhardt (II/328-330) or Eisenberg 2, 56-60. Eisenberg gives a clear explanation of the thought: since hypotheses concern only the possible (i.e., things whose existence or nonexistence depends on causes unknown to us), a being to whom nothing was unknown would not be able to regard anything as merely possible, hence would not be able to form hypotheses about anything.

41 The clause “when (ubi) we do not attend to the order of Nature” is puzzling enough to have prompted attempts at emendation. Gebhardt is probably right to reject Elbogen’s suggestion that it has simply been misplaced, but might have considered more seriously Stern’s suggestion that we should read etsi for ubi: “even if we do not attend …” It would not take a great deal of carelessness in the writing or the reading for a handwritten etsi to be taken for an ubi and etsi would not require a subjunctive (pace Gebhardt). Koyré (2, 106) has a plausible gloss: for Spinoza there are as many modes and degrees of existence as there are modes and degrees of essence; the existence of a man is different from that of an animal or an inanimate object; even when we do not attend to the order of nature (which is a necessary, but not sufficient condition of all feigning), we cannot attribute to a man an animal’s mode of existence unless we think in general terms.

x Afterwards, when we speak of fiction that concerns essences, it will be clear that the fiction never makes, or presents to the mind, anything new, but that only things which are in the brain or the imagination are recalled to memory, and that the mind attends confusedly to all of them at once. Speech and a tree, for example, are recalled to memory, and since the mind attends confusedly, without distinction, it allows that the tree speaks. The same is understood concerning existence, especially, as we have said, when it is conceived so generally, as being. Then it is easily applied to all things which occur in the mind together. This is very much worth noting.

y The same must also be understood concerning the hypotheses that are made to explain certain motions, which agree with the phenomena of the heavens; except that when people apply them to the celestial motions, they infer the nature of the heavens from them. But that nature can be different, especially since many other causes can be conceived to explain such motions.

42 Koyré suggests glossing “done something” by “uttered some words.”

43 Joachim (2, 120 n.) suggests that Spinoza has in mind Descartes’ Principles IV, 95-101, though it is not clear that Descartes is there involved in either of the suppositions Spinoza here discusses.

44 I have translated the text of the OP (“verae ac merae assertiones”) as it stands, but in spite of the support of the NS and Joachim’s defense (2, 121, n. 2), I question whether verae (‘true’) is correct. Appuhn has: “assertions pure and simple,” which seems more in keeping with parallel passages (II/21/20-21, 21/27-28, 22/20-21).

z It often happens that a man recalls this term soul to his memory, and at the same time forms some corporeal image. But since these two things are represented together, he easily allows that he imagines and feigns a corporeal soul: because he does not distinguish the name from the thing itself. Here I ask my readers not to hasten to refute this, which, as I hope, they will not do, provided that they attend as accurately as possible to the examples, and at the same time, to the things that follow.

45 Elbogen points out that most of Spinoza’s examples come from Ovid’s Metamorphoses. But note that there seem to be references also to the Judaeo-Christian doctrine of creation and the Christian doctrine of the incarnation. Cf. Parkinson, 101-102, and E IP8S2, II/49/35.

46 Koyré sees an allusion both to theologians who hold a voluntarist theory of belief and to Hobbes’ De Corpore I, iii, 8.

47 Wolfson (1, 2:110-111) thought that this passage was undoubtedly directed against Descartes, citing The Passions of the Soul III, 152. He might, with equal justice, have cited the Fourth Meditation’s claim that it is principally our free will that justifies our thinking of ourselves as made in God’s image (AT VII, 57). De Deugd (90-91) countered that Descartes nevertheless does not ascribe to man a power to create ideas ex nihilo (which is what is in question here in § 60). Still, I do not think that would be a terribly implausible reading of certain passages in the Third Meditation (AT VII, 43-44). Descartes may be the target.

a Although I seem to infer this from experience, and someone may say that this is nothing, because a demonstration is lacking, he may have one, if he wishes; since there can be nothing in nature that is contrary to its laws, but since all things happen according to certain laws of nature, so that they produce their certain effects, by certain laws, in an unbreakable connection, it follows from this that when the soul conceives a thing truly, it proceeds to form the same effects objectively. See below, where I speak of the false idea. [In the OP this note is attached to the last sentence in § 60. Gebhardt places it here, following the NS. De Deugd has defended the placement of the OP (88, n. 1). But Eisenberg (2, 69) argues persuasively that the note is intended, not to disprove the view discussed in § 60, but to support the view presented in § 61.]

b Note that the fiction, considered in itself, does not differ much from the dream, except that the causes which appear to the waking by the aid of the senses, and from which they infer that those presentations are not presented at that time by things placed outside them, do not appear in dreams. But error, as will be evident immediately, is dreaming while awake. And if it is very obvious, it is called madness.

48 This sentence occurs only in the OP, which may indicate either an oversight on the part of the translator (as Leopold thought) or a later addition (as Gebhardt thought). This paragraph and the following are very strongly reminiscent of Descartes’ teaching in the Regulae, Rules 10 and 12, AT X, 399, 418, and 420. But even here there is nothing Spinoza could have derived only from Descartes. As Koyré points out, a similar doctrine is taught by St. Thomas, Summa theologiae, Ia. 17, 3.

49 OP: “primam” NS: “het eerste denkbeelt” (= ideam). But parallelism with 1. 12 requires: fictionem.

50 OP: “sed quòd necessitas.” Joachim (2, 153, n. 2) suggests emending by deleting sed. That still leaves a somewhat awkward construction. What Spinoza means, I think, is that the second clause is a consequence of the first, not a separate condition.

51 As Joachim notes (2, 91-98), there are two passages in Descartes that Spinoza may have in mind here, one in the Fifth Meditation and one in the Second Replies (AT VII, 64, 103-104). Spinoza’s examples are awkward for those interpreters who emphasize other passages in which Spinoza apparently adopts a correspondence theory of truth (e.g., myself, in Curley 3, 52-56, 122-126, 134-137, 142). But the examples are awkward in any case, since apparently incompatible with the general proposition they are supposed to illustrate, which is not so awkward. For further discussion see Curley 9.

52 Koyré is probably right to see an allusion to Hobbes here. Cf. De Corpore I, i, 8.

53 OP: “cogitationis”, NS: “kennis/cognitio.” Gebhardt thinks the OP represents Spinoza’s correction of a mistake he made in the ms. from which the NS translation was done.

54 OP: “uti primâ fronte videtur.” Most translators (including the NS) have taken this to be presented as no more than a plausible hypothesis. But Joachim suggests (2, 91) that it is presented as a self-evident principle: “as is apparent at first glance.” Cf. § 106.

55 Joachim (2, 159, n. 1) suggests following the NS, which reads: “… that was such a most subtle body.…”

56 Gueroult (1, 1:169 n.) identifies the “first elements of the whole of Nature,” which constitute the source and origin of Nature, with the attributes that constitute God or substance. I agree (Curley 3, 42) and infer that God is not to be identified with the whole of Nature, but only with Natura naturans.

z These are not attributes of God that show his essence, as I shall show in [my] Philosophy. [Since this topic is one taken up in the Short Treatise (KV I, ii-vii), but not in the Ethics, this note is evidence that the work referred to in the TdIE as “my Philosophy” was more like the Short Treatise than the Ethics.]

a This has already been demonstrated above. For if such a being did not exist, it could never be produced; and therefore the mind would be able to understand more things than Nature could bring about—which we have shown above to be false.

57 Koyré refers us here to E IIP38 and Hobbes, De Corpore I, vi, 4-13.

58 In the OP this sentence is printed as a footnote annexed to the Latin phrase here represented by “But in thinking.…” Gebhardt (following a suggestion of Leopold’s) adopts the reading of the NS, which brings it into the text. Joachim (2, 182 n.) thinks this a mistake.

59 OP: “quomodò quaestiones sint determinandae.” I adopt Joachim’s paraphrase (2, 183).

d But if the duration is indeterminate, the memory of the thing is imperfect, as each of us also seems to have learned from nature. For often, to believe someone better in what he says, we ask when and where it happened. Although the ideas themselves also have their own duration in the mind, nevertheless, since we have become accustomed to determine duration with the aid of some measure of motion, which is also done with the aid of the imagination, we still observe no memory that belongs to the pure mind.61

60 OP: “Fabulam amatoriam,” NS: “tooneelspel van liefde.” Literally, love story or romantic play. But the marginal note in the NS suggests that Spinoza may originally have written Comoedia. The change (if there was one) was presumably made only for stylistic reasons and was not made consistently (cf. 1. 29).

61 OP: “sit purae mentis” NS: “gantschelijk tot de ziel behoort” (= belongs entirely to the mind).

62 The NS at this point gives (instead of “etc.”) a version of the lines occurring above 12-14. But they add that the imagination is not only random, but also unconscious, and that the soul is entirely acted on.

e The principal Rule of this part (as follows from the first part) is to review all the ideas we discover in us from the pure intellect, so that they are distinguished from those we imagine. This will have to be elicited from the properties of each, i.e., of the imagination and the intellection.

f Note that it is evident from this that we cannot [NS: legitimately or properly] understand anything of Nature without at the same time rendering our knowledge of the first cause, or God, more ample.

63 Cf. Hobbes, De Corpore I, i, 5, and his Examinatio et emendatio mathematicae hodiernae, second dialogue. See also Cassirer 2:98ff.

64 According to Gueroult (1, 1:172-173), Spinoza later modified this requirement and came to regard his definition of God (E ID6) as a genetic, causal definition. It would still be true that God requires nothing else except his own being (i.e., the elements of his being, the attributes) for his explanation. But it would not be correct to say that a definition in terms of those elements excludes every cause. Whereas the notion of being causa sui is here treated as if equivalent to being without a cause, later it will be treated more positively. The key passage is in Letter 60 (IV/270-271).

65 OP: “concludantur” NS: “verklaart worden” (literally: ‘be explained’).

66 Accepting Leopold’s emendation of the text. Cf. Joachim 2, 214 n.

67 Cf. §§ 42, 91, and 95.

68 Various scholars (Leopold, Appuhn, Joachim) have seen in this sentence a digression, probably added by Spinoza as a marginal note. Gebhardt, following both the OP and the NS, retains it in the text, rightly, I think.

69 I take the reference to be to § 61, as Gebhardt apparently does at II/337. But at II/338 he apparently takes it to be to § 70, as part of his case for his emendation of II/38/1-2.

70 OP: “Nam ex nullo fundamento cogitationes nostrae terminari queunt.” Elwes’ translation of that text is as reasonable as any: “For our thoughts may be brought to a close by the absence of a foundation.” Gebhardt (following the NS) emends to: “Nam ex nullo alio fundamento cogitationes nostrae determinari queunt,” which is what I have translated. But Appuhn’s conjecture is also plausible: “Nam ex nullo fundamento cogitationes nostrae determinari nequeunt” (= “for without a foundation our thoughts cannot be determined”). For a fuller discussion see Eisenberg 1, 103-105, or Gebhardt II/337-339. Cf. Aristotle, NE, 1098 b1-12.

g Cf. above [II/13-14ff.].

71 The text is evidently corrupt here. Gebhardt emends along lines suggested by the NS. I believe his version of the text makes sense if understood as I have translated it. For an alternative version and full discussion, see Eisenberg 1, 107-109.

Short Treatise on God, Man, and His Well-Being

EDITORIAL PREFACE

IN 1704, Gottlieb Stolle, later to become professor of political science at Jena, visited Holland. His travel diary contains the following account of an interview with Jan Rieuwertsz the Younger, the son of Spinoza’s friend and publisher:

After this he brought out another manuscript, which his father had also transcribed, but in this case, from Spinoza’s own hand. This was the Ethics, i.e., a Dutch Ethics, as Spinoza originally composed it. This Ethics was organized quite differently from the printed one. For whereas in the latter everything is worked out by the more difficult mathematical method, in this everything was divided into chapters and argued in a continuous succession (without the artificial proof of each point), as in the Theological-Political Treatise.

Rieuwertsz assured me also that the printed Ethics was much better worked out than this manuscript, but he acknowledged that it contained various things not in the printed version. In particular he pointed out a chapter on the Devil, which was Chapter XXI, and which is not in the printed Ethics. In this Spinoza treated the question “Whether the Devil exists?” and began by examining the definition that the Devil is a spirit contrary to the divine essence, and having its essence through itself. In this sense he seemed to deny the Devil’s existence.

According to Rieuwertsz, some friends of Spinoza had copied this manuscript, but it had never been printed, because there was already in print a fine edition of the more orderly Latin version, whereas the work which had been overlooked was written far too freely.1

This is our first definite2 indication of the existence of the Short Treatise, a work that had to wait for another century and a half before the rediscovery of two manuscript versions permitted its publication.

The work which thus made its entry into the Spinozistic corpus is a scholar’s delight, but it is hard to believe that anyone as familiar with its problems as Wolf could ever have recommended it as suited to be an introduction to Spinoza’s philosophy. True, it contains expositions of many central themes of Spinoza’s thought in a shorter and less demanding form than does the Ethics. But the work bristles with difficulties.3

First of all, it is clear that neither of the manuscripts that form the basis for modern editions is Spinoza’s own manuscript. At best they are copies of lost manuscripts, and each of them seems to contain a number of copyist’s errors. Quite possibly our best manuscript is only a copy of a copy (cf. Mignini 1, 235), though it is probably not far from the original.

Secondly, it is also clear that these manuscripts are copies of a work Spinoza himself never fully prepared for publication, a work in progress which was intended in the first instance only for private circulation among friends interested in studying Spinoza’s philosophy.4 So, for example, there are inconsistencies, repetitions, and expressions of uncertainty about whether particular topics would be treated later, some of which surely would have been emended if Spinoza had given the work a final revision for publication.

Again, written in the margins of the older, and probably more authentic of the manuscripts, are many notes, whose authorship and relation to the text are often obscure. Some must certainly come from Spinoza himself; others must certainly not; but the origin of many others is a matter of speculation,5 and there is the further possibility that some reader’s notes have, in the process of copying, inadvertently been brought into the text. In addition, some of the longer notes may be intended to replace sections of the text, and some passages of the text may be superseded versions which have inadvertently been retained. Some editors ascribe these hypothetical retentions, some apparent illogicalities in the ordering of materials, and even the chapter divisions, to the editorial work of a zealous, but not very acute, disciple.

As if these were not difficulties enough, there is doubt whether Spinoza wrote this work in Dutch or in Latin. Stolle’s travel diary describes it as written in Dutch. But the subtitle says it was originally written in Latin, for Spinoza’s pupils, and then translated into Dutch, for a wider audience. The first of these witnesses is not entirely reliable, but the authority of the second is unclear.

Gebhardt, in company with nearly every other scholar who has considered the question, regarded the work as a translation of a lost Latin original, principally on the ground that there are many apparent mistakes in the text which can best be explained as translation errors. But recently his arguments have been challenged by Boehm, who has established at least that Gebhardt’s conclusion is less certain than he took it to be. It is extremely difficult, of course, to demonstrate that any particular passage is corrupt, and doubly difficult to demonstrate that the error can only be set right by assuming a Latin original that has been mistranslated (though this is what Gebhardt sometimes claims). Nevertheless, I think Gebhardt is probably right to postulate a lost Latin original, even if his arguments for this hypothesis are unsatisfactory.6

If we do assume that our work is a copy of a translation of a lost original, we add to the possible sources of textual error, and increase the uncertainty of an already uncertain text. But this question is primarily of interest to the textual critic. However it is decided, the translator must think of the technical terms as if they were translations of Latin terms. At the time when the Short Treatise was written, Latin was still the main language of philosophical discussion. Most of Spinoza’s other works, like most of Descartes’ and Hobbes’, were first written in Latin and then translated into the vernacular. The vernacular languages were like Latin itself before Cicero. They lacked a well-established philosophical vocabulary. Glazemaker’s useful practice of indicating the Latin terms in the margins of his Dutch translations of Descartes and Spinoza was a step toward the creation of such a vocabulary. But the process was incomplete when the Short Treatise was translated, and the treatment of technical terms there is not as firm as in other contemporary Dutch translations of Spinoza’s works.

A further difficulty that hampers the study of the Short Treatise is the uncertainty about the relationship between the two manuscripts. It is clear that one of them (called “codex A” by Schaarschmidt) dates from the seventeenth century, is older than the other (called “codex B” by Schaarschmidt), and was at least a partial source for the later manuscript. It is also clear, however, that “codex B” sometimes has a better reading than “codex A.” The question is whether the transcriber of “codex B,” an eighteenth-century Dutch doctor named Monnikhoff, had access to another source, which enabled him to correct some of the defects of “A.”

The first editor to consider this issue, Schaarschmidt, did not think highly of Monnikhoff s corrections and took them to have no value for the establishment of the text. Sigwart thought better of them and inferred that Monnikhoff also had access to another, hypothetical manuscript, called “C.” Wolf shared this view and consequently incorporated a great deal of information about “codex B” in his translation. Gebhardt’s position is that while many of Monnikhoff s corrections are justified, others are not, and that Monnikhoff relied only on his own good judgment in making them. So what was formerly called “codex A” Gebhardt refers to simply as “the manuscript” and what was formerly called “codex B” he treats as an attempt at a critical edition, deserving the respect due any intelligent exercise in textual criticism, but not possessing any special authority. Mignini has accepted this view (Mignini 1, 226) and my translation, like that in the Pléiade edition, assumes that it is correct.

Finally, to put an end to the listing of problems, it is generally thought that the work contains various strata, dating from different periods. The notes, for example, were probably written later than the main text. It seems to have been Spinoza’s habit to go back over works he had previously written and to make marginal notes, amplifying, correcting, and flagging topics for further discussion. Similarly, the appendices seem to be a later addition. The dialogues have sometimes been thought to be earlier than the main text, and theories of Spinoza’s development have been constructed on that assumption,7 though the more usual view now would be that both dialogues are later than the main body of the text.

At this stage there appear to be two main theories of the composition of this work. According to Gebhardt (I/424-431), Spinoza originally dictated a work on these topics in Dutch to friends in Amsterdam prior to his departure for Rijnsburg; then in Rijnsburg he revised portions of the manuscript in Latin in the form of separate treatises, of which the present TdIE is the only one to survive both in Latin and in Dutch; these treatises Spinoza sent to Amsterdam, where they were immediately translated into Dutch (by Pieter Balling) for the benefit of those members of the Spinoza circle who could not read Latin (principally, Jarig Jelles); in response to questions from the friends in Amsterdam, Spinoza added notes, appendices, and dialogues; finally, Jelles put this disorganized material into order for his private use, and added various notes and observations of his own.

Mignini, however, has a very different account of the manuscript. According to his theory (Mignini 1, 230-240), Spinoza’s friends asked him (either while he was still in Amsterdam, or on his departure for Rijnsburg) to write a concise exposition of his most important ideas on metaphysics and ethics; Spinoza wrote the treatise in Latin, about the middle of 1660, exclusively for the friends and not for immediate publication; his friends asked for a Dutch translation and suggested that the work be published; Spinoza corrected the Latin text and added notes and dialogues in response to the objections of his friends; someone translated the work into Dutch with a view to publication, and someone (possibly the translator) added marginal notes and cross-references; toward the end of 1661 (Mignini’s date for Letter 6), Spinoza made revisions on a Dutch copy of the work, adding still more notes, marginalia, and cross-references, and reworking some parts of the text; then, toward the end of 1661 or early in 1662, Spinoza abandoned the project of publishing the Short Treatise and decided to rework this material into an entirely different, geometric form; he added to the Dutch manuscript two mysterious sequences of numbers,8 indicating what materials he wished to retain and in what order, and then began to write the Ethics; finally, someone made a copy of Spinoza’s Dutch copy of the manuscript, translating any Latin additions or correcting their style if they were written in Dutch. Our manuscript A would stem from this copy.

Clearly, if Mignini’s theory is correct, our manuscript would be a considerably more trustworthy account of Spinoza’s thought at that stage of his development than it would be on Gebhardt’s theory. Equally clearly, it is going to be very difficult to decide which is correct, or at least nearer the truth. This is not the place for that kind of investigation, but perhaps it will be helpful to at least mention the principal sources of data bearing on these theories. They are: 1) the subtitle of the work (11/7-11); 2) the conclusion of the main text (112/20-113/6); 3) a marginal note attached to the conclusion; 4) passages in the letters which either inform us about the KV or provide us with analogies from the histories of Spinoza’s other works (Letters 6, 8, 12a, 13, and 15); 5) so-called “doublet” passages (e.g., 85/3-19, 55/16-29); 6) expressions of uncertainty about the contents of the work (43/33-34, 60/33-34, 78/11); and 7) the sequences of superscript numbers (passim). Perhaps it is not too much to hope that future investigations will clarify our understanding of the history of this work.

In the face of all these difficulties, it is not surprising that some scholars have doubted the value of studying this work.9 But this is an overreaction. First of all, as Rieuwertsz recognized, this work does contain discussions of topics not treated in the Ethics, or not treated so fully there, some of them of considerably greater interest to the modern reader than the chapter on the devil. For example, the discussions of definition (I, vi), of God’s causality of the finite (Second Dialogue), and of the distinction between natura naturans and natura naturata (I, viii, ix) are all valuable supplements to the exceedingly brief treatment these topics get elsewhere.

Secondly, even where Spinoza’s discussion of a topic is sketchy or immature compared with later treatments (e.g., in the analysis of the emotions), it remains extremely interesting to see the stages he went through in arriving at the mature doctrine. The literary form of the Ethics has been a stumbling block to Spinoza’s readers from the beginning, partly, perhaps, because that work is so very well worked out. We would like to have some grasp of the processes of thought that lay “behind the geometrical method.” To achieve that grasp, we must examine the earlier works that did in fact lead up to the Ethics.10

A further advantage which has been claimed for the Short Treatise is that it may help us to understand better Spinoza’s position in relation to Christianity, which in turn is useful for the proper interpretation of the Theological-Political Treatise. Appuhn has even argued (Appuhn 1, 27) that though it contains many propositions incompatible with Christian dogma, the Short Treatise is nevertheless much more open to a Christian reading than is the Ethics. Appuhn does not contend that Spinoza was ever a Christian in any formal sense, only that at a certain stage of his life certain Christian ideas and sentiments “penetrated his soul.” But even this may go too far. At any rate, the Pléiade editors argue, in their preface and notes, that the use of traditional religious language here is designed to gradually lead susceptible minds away from anthropomorphic conceptions.

Finally a word about the Outline. This was first discovered by Boehmer in 1851, bound with a copy of Colerus’ biography of Spinoza. That copy also contained a marginal note, apropos of Colerus’ discussion of Spinoza’s unpublished works (Colerus does not mention the Short Treatise):

Among some lovers of philosophy there exists a manuscript treatise by Spinoza; though not composed in the geometric manner, as his printed Ethics is, nevertheless it contains the same thoughts and topics. From its style and arrangement it is easy to see that it is of the author’s earliest works. After this rough draft of his thought, in the course of time he composed his Ethics. And though in the later work the same topics are presented more extensively and in a more polished way, in geometric order, nevertheless because such a mathematical order is quite uncommon in metaphysical matters, and few people are practiced in them, many find the Ethics more obscure than this treatise. Only in the beginning of its Appendix is a small portion of the treatise composed in geometric order. [I/412]

Discovery of the outline was instrumental in leading to the discovery of the first manuscript of the Short Treatise. But its primary interest today lies in the possibility (argued for by Freudenthal) that its author may have had access to a better manuscript than any we possess. This suspicion is raised particularly by its account of the first chapter of Part I, though it should be noted that Gebhardt and Mignini reject Freudenthal’s conjecture (see the note at I/15/7).

The section numbers are not in the original, but are due to Sigwart, and are included for convenience in making references (and following references in secondary sources). I, iii, 2 = Part I, chapter iii, section 2.

[I/3] A SHORT OUTLINE OF BENEDICT DE SPINOZA’S TREATISE ON GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING CONSISTING OF TWO PARTS, [5] FOLLOWED BY AN APPENDIX1

THE FIRST Part of this Treatise is divided into ten Chapters.

In the 1st Chapter, the Author shows that he has an idea of God; according to this idea he defines God as a being consisting of infinite [10] Attributes, of which each is infinitely perfect in its kind. From this he then infers that existence belongs to [God’s] essence, or that God necessarily exists.

But in order to discover further what perfections in particular are contained in the Divine nature and essence, he passes in the 2nd Chapter [15] to a consideration of the nature of substance. He tries to prove that substance is necessarily infinite; consequently that there cannot exist more than one substance;2 that one cannot be produced by another, but that whatever is belongs to that one Substance (which he calls [20] God); that thus Thinking and Extended nature are two of its infinite Attributes, each of which is supremely perfect and infinite in its kind; that therefore (as he explains more fully later), all singular finite and limited things, such as Human Souls and Bodies, etc., must be conceived [25] as modes of these attributes, through which these Attributes (and thereby, Substance, or God) are expressed in infinite ways.

All of this is explained more fully in Dialogues.3

[30] In the 3rd Chapter he deduces what sort of cause God is of things, viz. that he is an immanent cause, etc. But in order to make known what (in his opinion) God’s essential Attributes are, he passes to:

[I/4] The 4th Chapter, where he maintains that God is a necessary cause of all things, and that it was as impossible for them to have had a nature different from that already posited or to have been produced by God in another form or order, as it would be for God to have [5] another nature or essence than that which belongs to his actual and infinite existence. And the aforementioned production, or posited necessity of things to exist and act, is here called God’s first ‘Attribute.’

In Chapter 5 the author considers, as a second ‘Attribute’ of God, [10] a striving, by which (so he maintains) the whole of nature, and consequently each thing in particular, has tended to preserve its state and being. This striving, insofar as it concerns the totality of things, is called God’s general providence; but insofar as it belongs to each individual, [15] in itself, without regard to the other parts of Nature, it is called God’s particular providence.

In Chapter 6 a third ‘Attribute’ of God is considered: his Predestination, or predetermination, which extends to the whole of nature, [20] and to each thing in particular, and excludes all contingency. This doctrine is based mainly on Chapter 4. For once one has granted his fundamental principle that the Universe (which he calls God) is necessary, both as to its essence and its existence, and that everything there is belongs to it, it follows unavoidably from this false principle [25] that nothing contingent can occur in the universe.4 After this, to clear away difficulties raised against him, he sets out his thoughts concerning the true causes of evil, sin, confusion, etc. With this he concludes his study of God’s essential ‘Attributes,’ and proceeds to Chapter 7, [30] where he enumerates certain ‘Attributes’ of God which he regards as only relational, not propria, or also, indeed, as Denominations of his essential Attributes. He also takes this opportunity to examine and rebut briefly the opinions of the Peripatetics concerning the nature of the definition of God and the proof of his existence.

[I/5] But in order that the reader may conceive clearly the difference there is (in the Author’s opinion) between natura Naturans and natura Naturata, he expands on this briefly in the 8th and 9th Chapters.

[5] Then in Chapter 10 (as in Chapter 6), he shows that after men have formed certain universal ideas, and reduced things to them, and compared [things] with [these ideas], they form from this concepts of good and evil, and call things good insofar as they agree with this universal [10] idea, but evil insofar as they differ from it, and have no agreement with it. So good and evil are nothing but beings of reason, or modes of thinking.

This concludes the first Part of this Treatise.

[15] In the second the Author explains his thoughts about Man’s existence, how man is subjected to and slave of the Passions; then how far the use of his reason extends; and finally, by what means he may be brought to his Salvation and perfect Freedom.

[20] After having spoken briefly in the Preface of this Part about Man’s nature, he goes on to treat:

In the 1st Chapter, of the particular kinds of knowledge or perception, and how they are produced in Man in four ways,

[25] 1. By report, some story or other sign.

2. By bare experience.

3. By good and pure reasoning, or true Belief.

4. By internal enjoyment and clear intuition of the thing itself.

[30] All of this is clarified and explained by an example taken from the Rule of Three.

In order that the Effects of these four kinds of knowledge may be clearly and distinctly perceived, their definitions are given in the 2nd Chapter, and after that the effects of each are taken separately. As [I/6] effects of the first and second kinds of knowledge, he notes the Passions which are contrary to good reason; of the third kind, good desires; and of the fourth, genuine love, with all its consequences.

First, then, in the 3rd Chapter, are treated the Passions originating [5] from the first and second kinds of knowledge, i.e., from Opinion: such as Wonder, Love, Hate and Desire.

After that, in the 4th Chapter, he shows the utility for man of the third kind of knowledge, by teaching him how he has to live according [10] to the true guidance of reason, and so arouses him to embrace what alone is worthy of love; which teaches him also to distinguish carefully the Passions which arise from Opinion, and indicates which he should follow, and which avoid. To apply this use of reason more particularly, our Author treats

[15] In the 5th Chapter, of Love.

In the 6th, of Hate and Aversion.

In the 7th, of Desire, Joy, and Sadness.

In the 8th, of Esteem and Disdain; of Humility and Legitimate Self-esteem; [20] of Pride and Self-depreciation.

In the 9th, of Hope and Fear; of Confidence and Despair; of Vacillation, Strength of Character, Daring and Emulation; of Cowardice [25] and Dismay; and finally, of Jealousy.

In the 10th, of Remorse and Repentance.

In the 11th, of Mockery and Ridicule.

In the 12th, of Love of Esteem, Shame and Shamelessness.

In the 13th, of Favor; Gratitude, and Ingratitude.

[30] And finally, in the 14th, of Longing.

Having finished with what, in his judgment, required to be noted regarding the Passions, he passes to:

The 15th Chapter, where the last effect of true Belief, or the third kind of knowledge, is introduced, as the means by which the true is separated from the false, and becomes known to us.

[I/7] Having discovered what, in his opinion, Good and Evil, Truth and Falsehood are, and also what the well-being of a perfect Man consists in, Spinoza then considers it necessary to inquire as to whether we arrive at such a well-being freely or by necessity.

[5] In this connection, he shows in the 16th Chapter what the Will is, maintaining there that it is not at all free, but that we are in every respect determined by external causes to will, to affirm or deny this or that.

But in order that the Will should not be confused with Desire, he [10] indicates in the 17th Chapter the difference between them. He thinks that, like Intellect and Will, desire also is not free, but that each and every desire, like this or that volition, is determined by external causes.

And to entice the Reader to embrace all the preceding, in the 18th [15] Chapter he elaborates on all the advantages which in his judgment are implied in this.

But in the 19th and 20th Chapters, our author inquires whether by that Belief, or the third kind of knowledge, Man can be brought to the enjoyment of the greatest Good and the highest Blessedness, and [20] freed of the Passions, insofar as they are evil.

As far as the last is concerned, he inquires how the soul is united with the Body and receives from it various affections; these, conceived [25] under the form of good or evil, are regarded as the cause of all the various Passions. And since, according to the 1st Chapter of this Part, the Opinions by which those affections of the Body are thought good or evil (thus giving rise to the Passions) are founded either on the first kind of knowledge (on report or some other external sign) or on the [30] second kind of knowledge (on some experience of ours), he persuades himself in the 21st Chapter of this conclusion: since what we find in ourselves has more power over us than what comes from outside, reason can be the cause of the destruction of those Opinions which we acquire only through the first kind of knowledge, because reason does [I/8] not come to us from outside, as those opinions do; but it does not have the same power over those which we acquire by the second kind of knowledge, since what we enjoy in ourselves cannot be overcome, even through something more powerful, if it is outside us and we only contemplate it through reason.

[5] Since, then, reason, or the third kind of knowledge, has no power to bring us to our well-being or to overcome the Passions which proceed from the second kind of knowledge, Spinoza proceeds in the 22nd Chapter to discover what the true means for this may be. Since [10] God is the greatest good the Soul can know and possess, he concludes that if we once acquire a union with him, or knowledge and love of him, as close as our union with the Body, not one arising from reasoned conclusions, but one consisting of an internal enjoyment of and [15] immediate union with God’s essence, then by this fourth kind of knowledge we shall have attained our greatest Salvation and Happiness. Therefore, this fourth kind of knowledge is not only necessary, but also the only means. And because in this way the most excellent [20] effect and an immutable constancy arise in those who enjoy it, he calls it Rebirth.

Since, in his opinion, the human Soul is the idea, in the thinking [25] being, of a certain thing, and the soul is united to the thing by this idea, he concludes from that in the 23rd Chapter that its constancy or change must be estimated according to the thing of which it is the idea. Consequently, if the Soul exists only in union with a thing which [30] is temporal and subject to change (as the Body is), it must necessarily be acted on and perish with it. On the other hand, if it undergoes union with a thing whose nature is eternal and immutable, it will be exempt from all Passion, and will share immortality.

But in order to omit nothing worth noting regarding this, our Author [I/9] inquires in the 24th Chapter whether Man’s Love for God is reciprocated, i.e., if man’s love has the result that God loves Man. Rejecting this, he explains what, according to his previous Teaching, [5] Divine and Human Laws are. Then he rebuts the opinions of those who maintain that God manifests himself and makes himself known to Man through something other than his own essence, such as a finite and limited thing, or by some external sign, whether by words or by Miracles.

[10] And since in his opinion the duration of a thing depends on its own perfection, or on its union with something else of a more perfect nature, he denies that there is a Devil, because he judges that something which lacks every perfection or union with perfection (as he defines [15] the Devil) can have neither essence nor existence.

Then, having put the Devil to one side, and having deduced the passions from the sole consideration of human nature, and indicated the means by which they are restrained and the supreme Salvation of [20] the human race is attained, our Author proceeds to note in the 26th Chapter the nature of Man’s true Freedom, which arises from the fourth kind of knowledge. For this purpose he introduces the following Propositions:

1. The more essence a thing has, the more it has of action, and [25] the less of Passion.

2. That all Passion proceeds not from an internal, but from an external cause.

3. That whatever is not produced by an external cause also has nothing in common with it.

[30] 4. That the effect of an immanent cause cannot change or perish so long as the cause endures.

5. That the freest cause of all, and that which he thinks agrees best with God, is the immanent.

From these Propositions, he deduces the following:

[I/10] 1. That God’s essence has an infinite action and involves a denial of any Passion. Hence whatever is united with it thereby participates in that action and is free of all Passion and corruption.

[5] 2. That the true intellect cannot perish.

3. That all the effects of the true intellect, which are united with it, are the most excellent of all, and are necessarily eternal with their cause.

4. That all our external effects are the more perfect the more they [10] can be united with us.

From all this he concludes then that human freedom consists in a firm existence which our intellect possesses through immediate union with God, so that neither it5 nor its effects can be subjected to any [15] external cause, or be destroyed or changed by it. Hence it must persevere with an eternal and constant duration.

And with this Spinoza finishes the Second and last Part of his Work.

However, he had added a kind of Appendix after this, containing [20] nothing but a short sketch of the things contained in the preceding. The first part of this, on the nature of Substance, is arranged in the Geometrical manner, agreeing essentially with his printed Ethics up to [25] IP8. And finally, in the second half of this Appendix, he inquires what the human soul is, and what its union with the Body consists in.

Furthermore, Spinoza has provided the whole Work with notes intended to elaborate and Clarify many passages.

[I/11] Short Treatise on God, Man, and His Well-Being1

PREVIOUSLY written in Latin by B.D.S. for the use of his pupils, who wished to devote themselves to the practice of ethics and true philosophy, and now translated into Dutch for the use of lovers of truth and virtue, so that those who boast so much on this subject, and press their dirt and filth on the simple as if it were ambergris, may one day have their mouths shut for them, and may stop blaming what they still do not understand: God, themselves, and how to help people have regard for one another’s well-being: and to cure those who are sick of mind, through the spirit of gentleness and forbearance, following the example of the Lord Christ, our best teacher.2

[I/13] TABLE OF THE CHAPTERS CONTAINED IN THE TWO FOLLOWING BOOKS, VIZ.

THE FIRST, treating of God, and what pertains to him, having the following chapters:3

[5] Chapter

I.

That God is

Chapter

II.

What God is

Chapter

III.

That God is a cause of all things

Chapter

IV.

Of God’s necessary actions

Chapter

V.

Of God’s Providence

[10] Chapter

VI.

Of God’s Predestination

Chapter

VII.

Of the ‘Attributes’ which do not belong to God

Chapter

VIII.

Of Natura Naturans

Chapter

IX.

Of Natura Naturata

Chapter

X.

What Good and Evil are

[15] The second, treating of a Perfect Man, capable of uniting himself to God:4

Chapter

I.

Of Opinion, Belief, and Science

Chapter

II.

What Opinion, Belief and clear Knowledge are

Chapter

III.

The origin of the Passions; Passion arising from opinion

[20] Chapter

IV.

What proceeds from Belief, and of Man’s Good and Evil

Chapter

V.

Of Love

Chapter

VI.

Of Hate

Chapter

VII.

Of Joy and Sadness

[25] Chapter

VIII.

Of Esteem and Disdain

Chapter

IX.

Of Hope and Fear

Chapter

X.

Of Remorse and Repentance

Chapter

XI.

Of Mockery and Ridicule

Chapter

XII.

Of Love of Esteem, Shame, and Shamelessness

[30] Chapter

XIII.

Of Favor, Gratitude and Ingratitude

Chapter

XIV.

Of Longing

Chapter

XV.

Of the True and the False

Chapter

XVI.

Of the Will

[I/14] Chapter

XVII.

Of the Distinction between Will and Desire

Chapter

XVIII.

Of the Advantages of the preceding

Chapter

XIX.

Of our Blessedness

Chapter

XX.

Confirmation of the preceding

[5] Chapter

XXI.

Of Reason

Chapter

XXII.

Of true Knowledge, Rebirth, etc.

Chapter

XXIII.

Of the Immortality of the Soul

Chapter

XXIV.

Of God’s Love for Man

Chapter

XV.

Of Devils

[10] Chapter

XXVI.

Of true Freedom

[I/15] The First Part Of God and What Pertains to Him1

[5] CHAPTER I
THAT GOD IS

[1]2 […] Regarding the first question, viz. whether there is a God? we say that this can first be proven a priori, as follows:

1. 1Whatever we clearly and distinctly understand to belong to the [10] naturea of a thing, we can truly affirm of that thing:

2But we can understand clearly and distinctly that existence belongs to God’s nature. Therefore, [we can truly affirm existence of God.]

[2] Alternatively, it can also be proven as follows:

[15] 2. The 3essences of things are from all eternity and will remain immutable to all eternity.

God’s existence is [his] essence. Therefore, [God’s existence is from all eternity and will remain immutable to all eternity.]

[3] [God’s existence can be proven] a posteriori as follows:

[20] 4If man has an Idea of God, then Godb must exist formally.

[I/16] 5But man has an Idea of God. Therefore.

[4] The first [premise] we prove as follows:

If there is an Idea of God, the cause of [this Idea] must exist formally and contain in itself whatever the Idea has objectively. But there [5] is an Idea of God. Therefore.

[5] To prove the first premise of this argument, we lay down the following principles:

1. That the things knowable are infinite.

2. That a finite intellect cannot comprehend the infinite.

[10] 3. That a finite intellect can understand nothing through itself unless it is determined by something external. For just as it has no power to understand everything at once, so it also has no power to begin by understanding this before that, or that before this. Not being able to do either the first or the second, it can do [15] nothing.

[6] The first (or major) [premise of the argument in § 4] is proven as follows:

If man’s [capacity of forming] fiction[s] were the sole cause of his Idea, then it would be impossible for him to perceive anything. But he can perceive something. Therefore.

[20] [7] The first [premise of the argument of § 6] is proven by the first principle, viz. that the things knowable are infinite. For according to the second principle, man cannot understand everything, since the human intellect is finite; and being [by hypothesis] determined by no external things to understand this before that, or that before this, it would be [25] impossible for him (according to the third principle) to be able to understand anything.

[8] cFrom all of this the second point is proved, viz. that the cause [I/17] of man’s Idea is not his capacity for forming fictions, but some external cause which compels him to understand one thing before another, and [I/18] is nothing other than that the things exist formally, and are nearer to him than others, whose objective essence is in his intellect. So if man has an Idea of God, it is clear that God must exist formally (but not eminently, since there is nothing more real or more excellent above or [5] outside him).9

[9] That man has an Idea of God is clear, because he understands his ‘attributes,’e which he could not produce because he is imperfect. But that he understands these attributes is clear from his knowing that [10] the infinite cannot be composed of a number of finite parts, that there cannot be two infinites, but Only One, that it is perfect and immutable. This last he knows because he knows that no thing through itself seeks its own destruction,f and that it cannot change into something [15] better, since it is perfect, which it would not be if it changed—and also that such a being cannot be acted on by something coming from outside, since it is omnipotent.

[10] From all of this, then, it follows clearly that one can prove God’s existence both a priori and a posteriori. Indeed, the a priori [20] proof is better. But, [it will be objected,]10 the things one proves in this way, one must prove through their external causes, which is an evident imperfection in them, since they cannot make themselves known through themselves, but only through external causes. But God, the first cause of all things, and also the cause of himself, makes himself [25] known through himself. So what Thomas Aquinas says11—that God could not be proved a priori, because he supposedly has no cause—is not of much importance.

[I/19] CHAPTER II
WHAT GOD IS

[1] Now that we have demonstrated that God is, it is time to show [5] what he is.1 He is, we say, a beinga of which all, or infinite, attributes are predicated, each of which is infinitely perfect in its own kind.

[2] In order to express this opinion of ours clearly, we shall first set out the following four things:

1. Thatb there is no limited substance,4 but that every substance [I/20] must be infinitely perfect in its kind, viz. that in God’s infinite intellect no substance can be more perfect than that which already exists in Nature.

2. That there are not two equal substances.

[5] 3. That one substance cannot produce another.

4. That in God’s infinite intellect there is no substance which does not exist formally in Nature.

[3] As for the first, viz. that there is no limited substance, etc., if anyone [10] should wish to maintain the contrary, then we would ask him the following: is this substance then limited through itself, i.e., has it limited itself thus and did it not want to make itself more unlimited? or is it limited through its cause, which either could not, or would not give it more?

[15] [4] The first is not true, because it is impossible that a substance should have willed to limit itself, especially a substance which has existed through itself. I say, then, that it is limited through its cause, which is necessarily God.

[5] Now if it is limited through its cause, that must be either because [20] its cause could not or would not give more. That he could not have given more would be contrary to his omnipotence. That che could [I/21] have, but would not, smacks of envy, which is not in any way in God, who is all goodness and fullness.7

[6] The second, that there are not two equal substances, we prove because every substance is perfect in its kind. For if there were two [5] equal substances, they would necessarily have to limit one another, and consequently, would not be infinite, as we have previously proven.

[7] Concerning the third, the one substance cannot produce another, [10] if someone wishes to maintain the contrary, we ask whether the cause which would have to produce this substance has the same attributes as the one produced or not?

[8] Not the latter, for Something cannot come from Nothing. Therefore, the former. And then we ask again whether, in that attribute8 [15] which would be the cause of what is produced, there is as much perfection as in what is produced, or more, or less? We say there cannot be less, for the reasons already given. We also say there cannot be more, because then these two would be limited, which is contrary to what we have just proven. So there would have to be as much. Then [20] there would be two equal substances, which is clearly contrary to our preceding proof.

[9] Furthermore, what is created has not in any way proceeded from Nothing, but must necessarily have been created by him who exists. But that something should have proceeded from him and that afterwards [25] he should still have it no less than before—this we cannot conceive with our intellect.

[10] Finally, if we wish to seek the cause of that substance which is the principle of the things which proceed from its attribute, then we shall have to seek in turn the cause of that cause, and then again, the [30] cause of that cause, and so on to infinity; so if we must stop somewhere (as we must), we must stop with this unique substance.

[11] Fourth, that no substance or attributes exist in God’s infinite intellect which do not exist formally in Nature, we can prove as follows:

[I/22] 1. From God’s infinite power, because there can be no cause in him by which he could have been moved to create one thing sooner or more than another.

2. From the simplicity of his will.

3. Because he cannot omit doing any good, as we shall prove later.

[5] 4. Because it is impossible that what does not exist now could come to be, since one substance cannot produce another. What is more, if that happened, there would be infinitely many more substances not existing than existing; and that is absurd.9

[12] From all of these it follows that of Nature all in all is predicated, [10] and that thus Nature consists of infinite attributes, of which each is perfect in its kind. This agrees perfectly with the definition one gives of God.

[13]10 Some want to argue against what we have just said—that no thing is in God’s infinite intellect unless it exists formally in Nature—in [15] the following way: if God has created everything, then he cannot create more. But that he should not be able to create more would be contrary to his omnipotence. Therefore.

[14] Regarding the first point, we grant that God cannot create more. [20] As for the second, we say that we acknowledge that if God could not create everything that is creatable, that would be contrary to his omnipotence; but it is not in any way contrary to it if he cannot create what is contradictory in itself (as it is to say that he has created everything and could still create more).

[25] And certainly it is a much greater perfection in God, that he has created everything that was in his infinite intellect, than it would be if he had not created it, and (as they say) never could have.

[15] But why say so much about this? Don’t they themselves argued [30] as follows (or shouldn’t they?): if God is omniscient, then he cannot know more; but that God cannot know more is contrary to his perfection. Therefore.

But if God has everything in his intellect, and through his infinite [I/23] perfection cannot know more, why can we not say that he has also produced everything he had in his intellect, and brought it about that it is, or will be, formally in Nature?

[5] [16] Because we know, then, that everything is equally in God’s infinite intellect, and that there is no cause for his creating this sooner or rather than that, and that he could have produced everything in a moment, let us see if we cannot use against them the same weapons [10] they take up against us: if God can never create so much that he could not create still more, then he can never create what he can create; but that he cannot create what he can create, is self-contradictory. Therefore.

[17] The reasons why we have said that all these attributes which [15] are in Nature are only one, single being, and by no means different ones (though we can clearly and distinctly understand the one without the other), are as follows:

1. Because we have already found previously that there must be an infinite and perfect being, by which nothing else can be understood [20] but a being of which all in all must be predicated. For of a being which has some essence, [some] attributes must be predicated, and the more essence one ascribes to it, the more attributes one must also ascribe to it. So if a being is infinite, its attributes [25] must also be infinite, and that is precisely what we call a perfect being.

2. Because of the unity which we see everywhere in Nature; if ethere were different beings in Nature, the one could not possibly unite with the other.

[30] 3. Because, as we have already seen,11 one substance cannot produce [I/24] another, and if a substance does not exist, it is impossible for it to begin to exist. We see, however,f that in no substance (which we nonetheless know to exist in Nature) is there, so long as it is conceived separately, any necessity of existing. Since no [5] existence pertains to its particular essence, it must necessarily follow that Nature, which comes from no cause, and which we nevertheless know to exist, must necessarily be a perfect being, to which existence belongs.12

[10]. [18] From all that we have said so far it is clear that we maintain that extension is an attribute of God. Nevertheless, this does not seem possible at all in a perfect being. For since extension is divisible, the perfect being would consist of parts. But this cannot be attributed to God, because he is a simple being. Moreover, when extension is divided, it is acted on; and that too cannot in any way be the case in [15] God (who is not susceptible of being acted on, and cannot be acted on by any other being, since he is the first efficient cause of everything).

[19] To this we reply:

1. That part and whole are not true or actual beings, but only [20] beings of reason; consequently in Natureg there are neither whole nor parts.

[I/25] 2. A thing composed of different parts must be such that each singular part can be conceived and understood without the others. For example, in a clock that is composed of many different wheels, [5] cords, etc., I say that each wheel, cord, etc., can be conceived and understood separately, without needing [the understanding of] the whole as a whole. Similarly with water, which consists of straight, oblong particles.13 Each part of it can be conceived and understood, and can exist, without the whole.

[10] But since extension is a substance, one cannot say of it that it has parts, since it cannot become smaller or larger, and no parts of it could be understood separately. For in its nature it must be infinite.

That it must be without parts also follows from this: if it did [15] consist of parts, it would not be infinite through its nature, as we have said it is. But it is impossible that parts could be conceived in an infinite Nature, for all parts are, by their nature, finite.

[20] To this we may add that if extension consisted of distinct parts, [I/26] then it would be intelligible that some of its parts might be destroyed even though it remained and was not destroyed by the destruction of some of its parts. This is clearly a contradiction in something which [5] is infinite through its own nature, and can never be, or be understood to be, limited or finite.

[21] Furthermore, concerning the parts in Nature, we say (as we said before) that division never occurs in the substance, but always [10] and only in the modes of the substance. So if I want to divide water, I divide only the mode of the substance, not the substance itself; the substance14 is always the same, [though] now [it is the substance] of water, now [the substance] of something else.

[22] Division, then, or being acted on, always happens in the mode, as when we say that a man perishes, or is destroyed, that is only [15] understood of the man insofar as he is a composite being and mode of substance, and not the substance itself on which he depends.

[23] Moreover, we have already said,15 and will say again, that outside God, there is nothing, and that he is an immanent cause. But being acted on, when the agent and the one acted on are different, is [20] a palpable imperfection. For the one acted on must necessarily depend on what, outside him, has produced this state of being acted on. In God, who is perfect, this cannot happen.

[24] Further, one can never say of such an agent, which acts in [25] himself, that he has the imperfection of being acted on, because he is not acted on by another; similarly, the intellect, as the Philosophers also say, is a cause of its concepts. But since it is an immanent cause, who would dare say that it is imperfect when it is acted on by itself?

[30] [25] Finally, substance, because it is the principle of all its modes, can with much greater right be called an agent, rather than one acted on. With this, we consider that we have answered all the objections satisfactorily.

[26] The further objection may be made, however, that there must necessarily be a first cause which makes this body move; for when it is at rest, it cannot possibly move itself. And since it is clear that there [I/27] is motion and rest in Nature, these must, they think, come from an external cause.

[27] But it is easy for us to answer this. For we grant that if body were a thing existing through itself, and had no other property than [5] length, breadth, and depth, then if it really were at rest, there would be no cause in it for it to begin to move itself. But we have posited above that Nature is a being of which all attributes are predicated. This being so, nothing can be lacking to it to produce everything there is [10] to produce.

[28] So far, then, we have spoken of what God is; now we shall say only a word about his attributes: those which are known to us consist of only two, viz. thought and extension, for we are speaking here only [15] of attributes which one could call God’s proper attributes, through which we come to know him in himself, and not as acting outside himself.

[29] Everything which men ascribe to God besides these two attributes, [20] must, if it does otherwise belong to him, either be an extrinsic denomination, such as existing through himself, being eternal, one, immutable, etc., or be in respect to his actions, such as that he is a cause, a predeterminer, and ruler of all things. These are all propria of God, but they do not give us any knowledge of what he is.

[25] [30] However, we shall say later, in the following chapters, how these ‘attributes’ can have a place in God. But to make this better understood and explain it further, we thought it good to add the following discourses, consisting of a:

[I/28] DIALOGUE1 BETWEEN THE INTELLECT,2 LOVE, REASON, AND LUST3

[5] [1] Love: I see, Brother, that my being and perfection depend entirely on your perfection; and since the perfection of the object you have conceived is your perfection, and mine in turn proceeds from yours, tell me, I beg you, whether you have conceived a supremely perfect [10] being, which cannot be limited by anything else, and in which I too am contained.

[2] Intellect: For my part, I consider Nature only as completely infinite and supremely perfect. If you doubt this, ask Reason. He will tell you this.

[15] [3] Reason: I find the truth about this indubitable: for if we want to limit Nature, we will have to limit it, absurdly, with a Nothing. We avoid this absurdity by maintaining that it—i.e., infinite Nature, in [20] which everything is contained—is an eternal Unity, Infinite, omnipotent;4 the negation of these we call Nothing.

[4] Lust: It will be marvelous, indeed, if this should turn out to be consistent: that Unity agrees with the Diversity I see everywhere in Nature: For how could this be?

[25] I see that intellectual substance has nothing in common with extended substance and that the one limits the other5 [5] and if, in addition to these two substances, you want to posit still a third, which is perfect in everything, then you will involve yourself in manifest contradictions. For if this third substance is posited, apart from the [30] first two, it will lack all the attributes which pertain to these two. And this is impossible in a whole, outside which no thing is.6

[I/29] [6] Furthermore, if this being is omnipotent and perfect, it will be such because it has produced itself, and not because something else has produced it. Nevertheless, it would be even more omnipotent if it could produce both itself and something else.

[5] [7] Finally, if you call it omniscient, it must know itself, and at the same time, you must understand that the knowledge of oneself alone is less than the knowledge of oneself together with the knowledge of other substances.

All these are manifest contradictions. That is why I would have [10] advised Love to content herself with what I show her, and not to look for other things.7

[8] Love: O dishonorable one! What have you shown me except that from which my immediate destruction would result? For if I had ever [15] united myself with what you have shown me, straightaway I would have been pursued by two of the human race’s main enemies—Hate and Repentance—and often also by Forgetfulness. So again I turn to Reason, that he may continue, and shut the mouths of these enemies.

[20] [9] Reason: O Lust! I tell you that what you say you see—that there are distinct substances—is false. For I see clearly that there is only one, which exists through itself, and is a support of all the other attributes.8

And if you want to call the corporeal and the intellectual substances [25] in respect to the modes which depend on them, you must equally call them modes too, in relation to the substance on which they depend. For you do not conceive them as existing through themselves. In the same way that you call willing, sensing, understanding, loving, etc., [30] different modes of what you call a thinking substance (all of which you lead back to one, making one of them all), so I also infer, by your own proof, that infinite extension and thought, together with other infinite attributes (or as you would say, substances) are nothing but modes of that unique, eternal, infinite Being, existing through itself; [I/30] and of all of these we make (as we have said) One Unique being or Unity, outside which one cannot imagine anything.

[10] Lust: In this way of speaking that you have, I think I see a very great confusion. For you seem to want the whole to be something [5] outside of or without its parts, which is indeed absurd. For the Philosophers all say unanimously that the whole is a second notion, which is no thing in Nature, outside human thought.

[11] Moreover, as I gather from your example, you confuse the whole [10] with the cause; for as I say, the whole consists of and exists through its parts; that is why you imagine the thinking power as a thing on which the intellect, love, etc., depend. And you cannot call it a whole, but a cause of the effects you have just named.

[15] [12] Reason: I certainly see how you call all your friends together against me. So what you have not been able to do with your false reasoning you try to do now with ambiguous words—the usual practice of those who oppose the truth. But you will not succeed in getting [20] Love on your side in that way.

You say, then, that since the cause is a producer of its effects, it must be outside them. You say this because you know only of the transitive and not of the immanent cause, which does not in any way [25] produce something outside itself. For example, the intellect is the cause of its concepts; that is why I called the intellect a cause (insofar as, or in the respect that its concepts depend on it);9 and on the other hand, I call it a whole, because it consists of its concepts. Similarly, God is, [30] in relation to his effects or creatures, no other than an immanent cause, and also a whole, because of the second consideration.

[I/31] SECOND DIALOGUE RELATING PARTLY TO THE PRECEDING, PARTLY TO THE SECOND PART TO COME, BETWEEN ERASMUS AND THEOPHILUS

[5] [1] Erasmus: I have heard you say, Theophilus, that God is a cause of all things, and moreover, that he can be no other cause than an immanent one. If, then, he is an immanent cause of all things, how could you call him a remote cause? For that is impossible in an immanent cause.

[10] [2] Theophilus: When I said1 that God is a remote cause, I said that only in respect to those things [which do not depend on him immediately and not those things] which God has produced immediately (without any circumstances, by his existence alone). But I have not at all called him a remote cause absolutely. You could also have inferred [15] this clearly from my words. For I also said that we can, in some way, call him a remote cause.2

[3] Erasmus: Now I understand sufficiently what you want to tell me; but I note also that you said3 that the effect of an internal cause [20] remains united with its cause in such a way that it makes a whole with it. If that is so, then I think God cannot be an immanent cause. For if he and what he has produced make together a whole, then you [25] ascribe more essence to God at one time than at another. Please, relieve me of this doubt.

[4] Theophilus: If you want to escape this confusion, Erasmus, pay close attention to what I am about to tell you. The essence of a thing [30] does not increase through its union with another thing, with which it makes a whole. On the contrary, the first thing remains unchanged.

[5] I shall give you an example, so that you will understand me [I/32] better. A sculptor has made various figures of wood, in the likeness of parts of a human body. He takes one of these, which has the shape of a human breast, adds it to another, which has the shape of a human [5] head, and makes of these two a whole which represents the upper part of a human body. Will you say now, on that account, that the essence of the head has increased, because it has been united to the breast? That would be a mistake, for it is the same as it was before.

[10] [6] To make this even clearer, I shall give you another example, viz. an idea I have of a triangle and another, arising from the extension of one of the angles. The angle formed by this extension is necessarily equal to the two opposite internal angles, etc. I say that these [ideas] have produced [15] a new idea, viz. that the three angles of the triangle are equal to two right angles. This idea is so united to the first, that it can neither be nor be conceived without it.

[7] [And of all the ideas which anyone has, we make a whole, or [20] (what is the same) a being of reason, which we call the intellect.]4

You see now that although this new idea is united to the preceding one, no change takes place on that account in the essence of the preceding one. On the contrary, it remains without the least change. You [25] can also see this in each idea which in itself produces love. This love does not in any way increase the essence of the idea.

[8] But why pile up examples? For you yourself can see this clearly in the matter we are speaking of. I have said5 distinctly that all the attributes, which depend on no other cause, and to define which no [30] genus is necessary, belong to God’s essence. And because created things do not have the power to form an attribute, they do not increase God’s essence, no matter how closely they are united to him.

[9] To this we may add that the whole is only a being of reason and [I/33] differs from the universal only in these respects: that the universal is made of various disunited individuals, whereas the whole is made of various united individuals, and that the universal includes only parts of the same kind, whereas the whole includes parts of the same kind and of another kind.6

[5] [10] Erasmus: As far as that question is concerned, you have satisfied me. But you have also said7 that the effect of an internal cause cannot perish so long as its cause endures. I see, indeed, that this is certainly true. But since it is, how can God be an internal cause of all things, since many things perish?

[10] According to your previous distinction,8 you will say that God is properly a cause of those effects he has produced immediately, through his attributes alone, without any further circumstances, and that these therefore cannot perish so long as their cause endures; but [you will [15] add] that you do not call God an internal cause of those effects whose existence does not depend immediately on him, but which have come to be from some other thing (except insofar as their causes neither do nor can act without God or outside him); and these, then, can perish, since they have not been produced by God immediately.

[20] [11] But this does not satisfy me. For I see that you conclude9 that the human intellect is immortal, because it is an effect that God has produced in himself. Now it is impossible that more was needed, to produce such an intellect, than God’s attributes alone. For to be a [25] being of such an eminent perfection it must have been created from eternity, like all other things which depend immediately on God. And if I am not mistaken, I have heard you say this yourself. How will you slip out of this without leaving difficulties behind?

[30] [12] Theophilus: It is true, Erasmus, that those things which have been created by him immediately (those which for their existence required nothing but God’s attributes) have been created from eternity. But it should be noted that even if it is necessary for the existence of [I/34] a thing that a particular modification be present and [so] something outside God’s attributes, that still does prevent God from being able to produce [such] a thing immediately. For of the things required to [5] make things exist, some are required to produce the thing, and others for it to be able to be produced.

For example, if I want to have light in a certain room, I light [a candle] and this, through itself, lights the room—or I open a window [shutter], and though opening it does not itself make light, still it brings [10] it about that the light can come into the room. Similarly, for the motion of a body, another body is required, which must already have that motion which passes from it to the first body.

But to produce an idea of God in us, no other particular thing is [15] required which has what is produced in us; all that is necessary is that there be in Nature a body such that its idea represents God immediately.10 This too you could have inferred from my words. For I have said11 that God is known only through himself and not through something else.

[20] [13] But I tell you this: so long as we do not have such a clear idea of God that it so unites us to him as not to let us love anything outside him, we cannot say that we are truly united with God, and so depend immediately on him.

[25] If you still have anything to ask me, leave it for another time. Right now I am required elsewhere. Farewell.

[14] Erasmus: For the moment I have nothing. But I shall think about what you have just told me until the next time we meet. I commend you to God.

[I/35] CHAPTER III
[HOW GOD IS A CAUSE OF ALL THINGS]1

[1] We shall now begin to treat of those ‘attributes’ we have called [5] Propria.a And first, how God is a cause of all things.

We have already said before that one substance cannot produce another, and that God is a being of which all attributes are predicated. From this it clearly follows that all other things cannot in any way [10] exist or be understood without or outside him. So we have every reason to say that God is a cause of all things.

[2] Since it is customary2 to divide the efficient cause into eight parts, let us now investigate how, and in what way God is a cause?

[15] 1. We say that God is an emanative or productive cause of his actions, and in respect to the action’s occurring, an active or efficient cause. We treat this as one thing, because they involve each other.

2. He is an immanent and not a transitive cause, since he does [20] everything in himself, and not outside himself (because outside him there is nothing).

3. God is a free cause, not a natural one, as we shall show very clearly when we treat the question whether God can omit doing [25] what he does? At that point we shall explain what true freedom consists in.

4. God is a cause through himself, and not an accidental cause. This will be more evident after our discussion of predestination.

5. God is a principal cause of the effects he has created immediately, [I/36] such as motion in matter, etc., where there can be no place for the subsidiary cause, which is confined to particular things (as when God makes the sea dry by a strong wind,3 and similarly in [5] all particular things in Nature).

The subsidiary initiating cause is not applicable to God, because there is nothing outside him that could constrain him. The predisposing cause, on the other hand, is his perfection itself, through which he is both a cause of himself, and consequently of all other things.

[10] 6. God alone is the first, or initiating, cause, as is clear from our preceding proof.

7. God is also a general cause, but only in the respect that he produces different things. Otherwise, such a thing can never be [15] said of him. For he does not need anyone to produce effects.

8. God is the proximate cause of those things that are infinite and immutable, and which we say that he has created immediately; but he is, in a sense, the remote cause of all particular things.

[20] CHAPTER IV
OF GOD’S NECESSARY ACTIONS

[1] We deny that God could omit doing what he does, and we shall prove this also when we treat of predestination, where we shall show that all things depend necessarily on their causes.

[25] [2] But this is also proven through God’s perfection, for it is true beyond any doubt that God can make everything just as perfectly as it is conceived in his Idea. And just as the things he understands he cannot understand more perfectly than he does understand them, in [30] the same way he has made them so perfect, that they cannot proceed more perfectly from him.

Moreover, when we conclude that God could not have omitted doing [I/37] what he has done, we derive this from his perfection, because in God it would be an imperfection to be able to omit what he does, without, however, assuming in God a subsidiary initiating cause, which would [5] have moved him to act, for then he would not be God.

[3] But now the dispute arises again as to whether God can omit doing everything that is in his Idea and that consequently he can produce [10] perfectly? and whether such an omission is a perfection in him?

We say that since everything that happens is done by God, it must be predetermined by him. Otherwise he would be changeable, and that would be a great imperfection in him. And since this predetermination by him must be from eternity, and since in eternity there is [15] neither before nor after, it follows inevitably from this that God was not able before to predetermine things in a way different from that in which they are now determined from eternity, and that before or without these determinations God could not have been.

[4] Furthermore, if God should omit doing something, that must [20] result either from a cause in him or from none. If the former, then it is necessary that he must omit doing it. If the latter, then it is necessary that he must not omit doing it. This is clear in itself.

Again, in a created thing it is a perfection to exist and to have been [25] produced by God, for the greatest imperfection of all is not being; and because God wills the salvation1 and perfection of everything, if God willed that this thing did not exist, the salvation and perfection of the thing would consist in not existing. This is self-contradictory. So we [30] deny that God can omit doing what he does.

[5] Some consider this a slander and belittling of God. But such talk comes from a misconception of what true freedom consists in. For it is not at all what they think, viz. being able to do or to omit something good or evil.2 True freedom is nothing but [being] the first cause, [I/38] which is not in any way constrained or necessitated by anything else, and only through its perfection is the cause of all perfection. So if God could omit doing this, he would not be perfect. For to be able to [5] omit doing good or bringing about perfection in what he produces can only be through a defect.

That God alone is the only free cause is clear, not only from what has just been said, but also from the fact that outside him there is no external cause which would force or necessitate him. This is not true [10] of created things.

[6] Against this our opponents argue in the following way: the good is only good because God wills it.3 Since this is so, he can always make the evil become good. This reasoning is as sound as if I said that [15] God is God because he wills that he is God, therefore it is in his power not to be God. This is absurdity itself.

Furthermore, if men do something, and one asks them why they do that, the answer is: because justice requires it. If one then asks why justice or rather, the first cause of everything that is just, requires it, [20] the answer must be: because justice wills it so. But would justice, indeed, be able to omit being just? Not at all, for then it could not be justice.

But those who say that God does everything he does because it is [25] good in itself may think they do not differ from us. That is far from being true. For they assume something prior to God, to which he is obligated or bound, viz. a cause [by] which [he] has a desire that this [which] is good, and again, that [which] is just should exist.4

[30] [7] Now there arises the further problem: if God had from eternity created all things in a different way, or had ordered or predetermined them differently than they are now, would he, then, be equally perfect?

It will serve as an answer to this, that if Nature had been created from all eternity in another way than it is now, it would necessarily [I/39] have to follow—according to the position of those who ascribe to God will and intellect—that God had both a different will and a different intellect then, according to which he would have made it differently. [5] So one would then be compelled to think that God is different now than he was then, and was different then than he is now. So if we maintain that he is supremely perfect now, we are compelled to say that he was not then, when he would have created everything differently. All of these are things which involve palpable absurdities in [10] themselves, and cannot in any way be ascribed to God, who is now, ever has been, and will remain to all eternity, immutable.

[8] We also prove this from the definition we have given of a free cause, which is not one which can both do and not do something, but only one which does not depend on anything else. So whatever God [15] does, he does and produces as the supremely free cause. [If, then, he had made things differently before than they are now, it must follow that at some time he was imperfect. And so that is false.]5 For since God is the first cause of all things, there must be something in him [20] through which he does what he does, and does not omit doing it. Because we say that freedom does not consist in [being able to] do something or not do it, and because we have also shown that what makes [God] do something can be nothing other than his own perfection, [25] we conclude that if it was not his perfection which made him do it, the things would not exist, or could not have come to be what they are now. [This is just as if one said that if God were imperfect, things would now be different than they are now.]

[30] [9] So much for the first ‘attribute’; we shall now pass to the second one that we call a proprium in God, and see what we have to say about that, and so on to the end.

[I/40] CHAPTER V
OF GOD’S PROVIDENCE

[1] The second ‘attribute’ which we call a Proprium is Providence, which according to us is nothing but that striving we find both in the [5] whole of Nature and in particular things, tending to maintain and preserve their being. For it is evident that no thing, through its own nature, could strive for its own destruction, but that on the contrary, each thing in itself has a striving to preserve itself in its state, and bring itself to a better one.1

[10] [2] So according to this definition of ours, we posit a universal and a particular Providence. The universal is that through which each thing is produced and maintained insofar as it is a part of the whole of Nature. The particular Providence is that striving which each particular [15] thing has for the preservation of its being insofar as it is considered not as a part of Nature, but as a whole.

This may be explained by the following example. All man’s limbs are provided and cared for, insofar as they are parts of man: That is [20] universal providence. The particular is that striving that each particular limb (as a whole, not as a part of man) has to preserve and maintain its own well-being.

CHAPTER VI
OF GOD’S PREDESTINATION1

[25] [1] The third ‘attribute,’ we say, is divine Predestination.

1. We have already proven above that God cannot omit doing what he does, viz. that he has created everything so perfect, that it cannot be more perfect.

2. And moreover, that without him no thing can be or be understood. [30]

[2] It remains now to consider whether there are any contingent things in Nature, viz. whether there are any things that can happen [I/41] and also can not happen. And again, whether there is any thing of which we cannot ask why it is? That there are no contingent things we prove as follows:

If something has no cause of its existence, it is impossible for it to [5] exist. Something that is contingent has no cause. Therefore.

The first [premise] is beyond all dispute. The second we prove as follows:

If something that is contingent has a determinate and certain cause of its existence, then it must exist necessarily. But that something should be both contingent and necessary is self-contradictory. Therefore.

[10] [3] Perhaps someone will say that, indeed, something contingent has no determinate and certain cause, but a contingent cause.

If that were so, it would be either in a divided sense or in a composite one, viz. either the existence of that cause is contingent (but not its being a cause), or it is contingent that that thing (which itself would [15] necessarily exist in Nature) should be a cause of the production of the contingent thing. But in either sense, this is false.

For as far as the first is concerned, if the contingent thing is contingent because its cause is contingent [with respect to its existence], then [20] that cause must also be contingent because the cause that produced it is also contingent [with respect to its existence,] and so on, to infinity. And because we have already proven that everything depends on one single cause, then that cause would also have to be contingent. And this is plainly false.

[25] As for the second, if that cause were not more determined to produce the one rather than the other, i.e., either to produce this something, or to omit producing it, then it would at the same time be impossible both that it should produce it and that it should omit producing it. This is an outright contradiction.

[30] [4] Regarding our second question: whether there is any thing in Nature of which one cannot ask why it exists? our saying this indicates that we must investigate through what cause a thing exists. For if that [cause] did not exist, it would be impossible for this something to exist.

[I/42] We must seek this cause, then, either in the thing or outside it. But if someone asks what rule we should follow in this investigation, we say it does not seem that any at all is necessary. For if existence belongs to the nature of the thing, then certainly we must not seek the [5] cause outside it. But if existence does not belong to the nature of the thing, then we must always seek its cause outside it. And since the former is true only of God, this shows (as we have already proven before) that God alone is the first cause of everything.

[10] [5] And from this it is also evident, then, that this or that will of man must also have an external cause by which it is necessarily produced (for the will’s existence does not belong to its essence). This is also clear from everything we have said in this chapter. And it will be [15] even more evident when we treat of man’s freedom in the second part.

[6] Against all this, others object: how is it possible that God, who is said to be supremely perfect, and the only cause, disposer and provider [20] of all things, nevertheless permits such a confusion to be seen everywhere in Nature? And also, why has he not created man so that he could not sin?

[7] First, then, it cannot rightly be said that there is confusion in Nature, since no one knows all the causes of things, and so no one [25] can judge them.

But this objection arises from ignorance, from the fact that men have formed universal Ideas, with which they think the particulars must agree in order to be perfect. They maintain, then, that these [30] Ideas are in God’s intellect, as many of Plato’s followers have said, viz. that these universal ideas (such as rational animal, etc.) have been created by God.

And though Aristotle’s followers say, of course, that these things are not actual, but only beings of reason, nevertheless they very often regard them as things. For they have said clearly that [God’s] providence [I/43] does not extend to particulars, but only to kinds.2 E.g., God has never exercised his providence over Bucephalus, but only over the whole genus Horse. They say also that God has no knowledge of particular and corruptible things, but only of universals, which in [5] their opinion are incorruptible.3

But we have rightly regarded this as indicating their ignorance; for all and only the particulars have a cause, not the universals, because they are nothing.

God, then, is a cause of, and provider for, only particular things. [10] So if particular things have to agree with another nature, they will not be able to agree with their own, and consequently will not be able to be what they truly are. E.g., if God had created all men like Adam was before the fall, then he would have created only Adam, and not [15] Peter or Paul. But God’s true perfection is that he gives all things their essence, from the least to the greatest; or to put it better, he has everything perfect in himself.

[8] As for the question, why did God not create men so that they would not sin? the following reply will serve: whatever is said about [20] sin is said only in respect to our knowledge, as when we compare two things with each other, or [consider one thing]4 in different respects. For example, if someone has made a clock precisely to strike and show the time, and that mechanism agrees well with its maker’s intention, [25] one says it is good; if not, one says it is bad, notwithstanding the fact that then it could also be good, provided his intention had been to make it confused and so that it did not strike at the hour.

[9] We conclude, then, by saying that Peter must agree with the [30] Idea of Peter, as is necessary, and not with the Idea of Man; good and evil, or sins, are nothing but modes of thinking, not things, or anything that has existence. Perhaps we shall show this more fully in what follows.

For all things and actions which are in Nature are perfect.

[I/44] CHAPTER VII
OF THE ‘ATTRIBUTES’ WHICH DO NOT BELONG TO GOD

[1] Here we shall begin to discuss those ‘attributes’a which are commonly [5] ascribed to God, but which do not belong to him, and also those through which they try in vain to define God.2 We shall also speak of the rules of true definition.

[2] To do this, we shall not trouble ourselves much with the things men commonly imagine about God; we shall only investigate briefly [10] what the philosophers can tell us about him.

They have defined God as a being existing of himself, cause of all things, omniscient, omnipotent, eternal, simple, infinite, the greatest good, of infinite compassion, etc.

[15] But before we enter into this investigation, let us first see what they allow us [to say about God].

[3] First, they say that no true or legitimate definition of God can be given; for they think there can be no definition except by genus [20] and difference, and since God is not a species of any genus, he cannot be properly or legitimately defined.3

[I/45] [4] Next, they say again that God cannot be defined because the definition must represent the thing absolutely and affirmatively, and in their view one cannot know God affirmatively, but only negatively.[5]4 So no legitimate definition of God can be given.

[5] Moreover, they also say that God can never be proven a priori (because he has no cause), but only probably, or through his effects.5

Because they have sufficiently conceded, by these doctrines, that [10] they have a very slight and inconsiderable knowledge of God, we may now go on to investigate their definition.

[6] First, we do not see that they give us here any Attributes through which it is known what the thing (God) is, but only Propria, which [15] indeed belong to a thing, but never explain what it is. For though existing of itself, being the cause of all things, the greatest good, eternal, and immutable, etc., are proper to God alone, nevertheless through those propria we can know neither what the being to which these propria [20] belong is, nor what attributes it has.

[7] It is time now also to look at those things which they ascribe to God, and which, nevertheless, do not belong to him,b such as being omniscient, compassionate, wise, etc. Because these things are only certain [25] modes of the thinking thing, they can neither be nor be understood without that substance of which they are modes. That is why they cannot be attributed to him, who is a being existing of himself, without anything else.

[8] Finally, they call him the greatest good. But if by that they [30] understand anything other than what they have already said, viz. that God is immutable, and a cause of all things, then they are confused in their own concept or have not been able to understand themselves. This arises from their error regarding good and evil, since they think [I/46] man himself, and not God, is the cause of his sins and evil. But according to what we have already proven, this cannot be, unless we are compelled to maintain that man is also a cause of himself. But this [5] will be still clearer when we treat, afterwards, of man’s will.

[9] Now we must untangle the sophistries by which they try to excuse their lack of knowledge of God.

[10] First, then, they say that a legitimate definition must be by genus and difference. But though all the logicians admit this, I do not know where they get it from.

Certainly if this must be true, then one can know nothing. For if [15] we can only know a thing perfectly through a definition consisting of genus and difference, then we can never know perfectly the highest genus, which has no genus above it. Now if the highest genus, which is the cause of the knowledge of all other things, is not known, the [20] other things which are explained by that genus are much less known or understood.

However, since we are free, and do not consider ourselves in any way bound to their positions, we shall produce, according to the true Logic, other laws of definition, guided by the division of Nature we [25] make.

[10] We have already seen that the attributes (or as others call them substances) are things, or, to put it better and more properly, a being existing through itself; and that this being therefore makes itself known [30] through itself. We see that other things are only modes of those attributes, and without them can neither exist nor be understood.

So definitions must be of two kinds:6

1. Of attributes, which are of a self-existing being; these require no genus, or anything else through which they are better understood [I/47] or explained; for since they, as attributes of a being existing through itself, exist through themselves, they are also known through themselves.

2. Of those things which do not exist through themselves, but [5] only through the attributes of which they are modes, and through which, as their genus, they must be understood.

And this is what we have to say about their position on definitions.

[11] Regarding their second claim, that we cannot know God with [10] an adequate knowledge, Descartes has answered this satisfactorily, in his reply to the objections regarding this.7

[12] And as for their third contention—that God cannot be proven a priori—we have already answered that previously. Since God is the [15] cause of himself, it is enough that we prove him through himself, and such a proof is much more conclusive than an a posteriori one, which usually proceeds only by external causes.8

CHAPTER VIII
OF Natura naturans

[20] Here, before we proceed to anything else, we shall briefly divide the whole of Nature into Natura naturans and Natura naturata. By Natura naturans we understand a being that we conceive clearly and distinctly through itself, without needing anything other than itself (like all the [25] attributes which we have so far described), i.e., God. The Thomists have also understood God by this phrase, but their Natura naturans was a being (as they called it) beyond all substances.1

We shall divide Natura naturata in two: a universal and a particular. [30] The universal consists in all those modes which depend on God immediately. We shall treat them in the next chapter. The particular consists in all those singular things which are produced by the universal modes. So Natura naturata requires some substances in order to be conceived properly.

[I/48] CHAPTER IX
OF Natura naturata

[1] Turning now to universal Natura naturata, or those modes or creatures which immediately depend on, or have been created by God—we [5] know only two of these: Motiona in matter, and Intellect in the thinking thing. We say, then, that these have been from all eternity, and will remain to all eternity, immutable, a work truly as great as the greatness of the workman.

[10] [2] With regard particularly to Motion, it belongs more properly to a treatise on Natural science than here, [to show] that it has been from all eternity, and will remain to all eternity, immutable, that it is infinite in its kind, that it can neither exist nor be understood through [15] itself, but only through Extension. So we shall not treat any of these things here, but shall say only that it is a Son,1 product or effect, created immediately by God.

[3] As for Intellect in the thinking thing, this too is a Son, product [20] or immediate creature of God, also created by him from all eternity, and remaining immutable to all eternity. Its sole property is to understand everything clearly and distinctly at all times. From this arises immutably a satisfaction infinite, or most perfect, since it cannot omit [25] doing what it does. And though what we have just said is sufficiently clear through itself, we shall nevertheless prove it more clearly later when we treat of the Affections of the Soul. So we shall say no more about it here.

[I/49] CHAPTER X
WHAT GOOD AND EVIL ARE

[1] To say briefly now what good and evil are in themselves, we begin as follows:

[5] Some things are in our intellect and not in Nature; so these are only our own work, and they help us to understand things distinctly. Among these we include all relations, which have reference to different things. These we call beings of reason.

[2] So the question now is whether good and evil should be regarded [10] as beings of reason or as real beings. But since good and evil are nothing but relations, they must, beyond any doubt, be regarded as beings of reason. For one never says that something is good except in respect to something else that is not so good, or not so useful to us as something [15] else. So one says that a man is bad only in respect to one who is better, or that an apple is bad only in respect to another that is good, or better. None of this could possibly be said if there were not something [20] better, or good, in respect to which [the bad] is so called.

[3] Therefore, if one says that something is good, that is nothing but saying that it agrees well with the universal Idea which we have of such things. But as we have already said, things must agree with [25] their particular Ideas, whose being must be a perfect essence, and not with universal ones, because then they would not exist.

[4] [As for confirming what we have just said, the thing is clear to us, but to conclude what we have said we shall add the following proofs.

[30] All things which exist in Nature are either things or actions.

Now good and evil are neither things nor actions.

Therefore, good and evil do not exist in Nature.

[I/50] For if good and evil were things or actions, they would have to have their definitions. But good and evil, say, Peter’s goodness and Judas’s evil, have no definitions apart from the [particular] essence[s] of Judas and Peter, for these [essences] alone [are] in Nature, and without them [the goodness of Peter and the evil of Judas] cannot be defined. Therefore, [5] as above, it follows that good and evil are not things or actions which are in Nature.]1

[I/51] The Second Part On Man and What Pertains to Him

PREFACE TO THE SECOND PART

[1] Because we have spoken in the First Part of God, and of the universal and infinite things, in this Second Part we shall now proceed to [10] treat of particular and limited things—not of all of them, since they are innumerable, but only of those that concern man. And first we shall consider what man is, insofar as he consists of certain modes (contained in those two attributes which we have noted in God).

[15] [2] I say of certain modes because I do not at all think that man, [I/52] insofar as he consists of a mind, soul, or body, is a substance. For we have shown previously, at the beginning of this book;1

1. That no substance can begin;

2. That one substance cannot produce another; and finally,

[I/53] 3. That there cannot be two equal substances.

[3] Since man, then, has not existed from eternity, is limited, and equal to2 many men, he cannot be a substance, so that whatever he [5] has of thinking are only modes of the attribute of thought which we ascribe to God. And again, whatever he has of form, motion, etc., are similarly modes of that other attribute which is ascribed to God.

[4] And though some try to prove that man is a substance from the [10] fact that the nature of man can neither exist nor be understood without those attributes which we ourselves concede to be substance, nevertheless, this has no other foundation than false suppositions.

For because the nature of matter or body has existed before the form [15] of this human body existed, that nature cannot be peculiar to the human body, because it is clear that at that time when man did not exist, it could not have belonged to man’s nature.

[5] And we deny what they make a fundamental principle: that that [20] belongs to the nature of a thing without which the thing can neither exist nor be understood. For we have already proven that without God no thing can either exist or be understood. I.e., God must first exist and be understood before these particular things exist and are understood. [25] Also, we have shown that genera do not belong to the nature of definition but that such things, which cannot exist without others, also cannot be understood without them. Since this is so, what rule do we lay down, by which one will know what belongs to the nature of a thing?

[30] The rule is this: That belongs to the nature of a thing without which the thing can neither exist nor be understood: but this is not sufficient; it must be in such a way that the proposition is always convertible, viz. that what is said also can neither be nor be understood without the thing.

[35] We shall begin, then, to treat of these modes of which man consists at the start of the first chapter, which follows.

[I/51/16] 1.3 Our soul is either a substance or a mode; not a substance, for we have already proven that there can be no limited substance in Nature. Therefore, a mode.

2. Being a mode, then, it must be a mode either of substantial extension or substantial thought; not of extension because etc.; therefore, [20] of thought.

3. Because substantial thought cannot be limited, it is infinitely perfect in its kind, and an attribute of God.

4. A perfect thought must have a knowledge, idea, mode of thinking, [25] of each and every thing that exists, both of substances and of modes, without exception.

5. We say “that exists” because we are not speaking here of a knowledge, Idea, etc., which knows the whole of Nature, the connection of all beings according to their essences, without knowing their particular [30] existence, but only of the knowledge, Idea, etc., of particular things which continually come into existence.

6. This knowledge, Idea, etc., of each particular thing which comes to exist, is, we say, the soul of this particular thing.

[I/52] 7. Each and every particular thing that comes to exist becomes such [5] through motion and rest. The same is true of all modes in the substantial extension we call body.

8. The differences between [one body and another] arise only from the different proportions of motion and rest, by which this one is so, and not so, is this and not that.

[10] 9. From this proportion of motion and rest, then, there comes to exist also this body of ours, of which (no less than of all other things) there must exist a knowledge, Idea, etc., in the thinking thing. This Idea, knowledge, etc., then, is also our soul.

10. But our body had a different proportion of motion and rest [15] when we were unborn children, and later when we are dead, it will have still another. Nevertheless, there was before our birth, and will be after our death, an Idea, knowledge, etc., of our body in the thinking thing, as there is now. But it was not, and will not be at all the same, because now it has a different proportion of motion and rest.

[20] 11. To produce in substantial thought an Idea, knowledge, mode of thinking, such as [this soul of] ours now is, not just any body whatever is required (for then it would have to be known differently than it is), but one which has this proportion of motion and rest and no other. For as the body is, so is the soul, Idea, knowledge, etc.

[25] 12. So if such a body has and preserves its proportion—say of 1 to 3—the soul and the body will be like ours now are; they will, of course, be constantly subject to change, but not to such a great change that it goes beyond the limits of from 1 to 3; and as much as it changes, so also the soul changes each time.

[30] 13. And this change, which arises in us from the fact that other bodies act on ours, cannot occur without the soul’s becoming aware of it, since it, too, changes constantly. And this change [i.e., in the soul] is really what we call sensation.

14. But if other bodies act on ours with such force that the proportion [35] of motion [to rest] cannot remain 1 to 3, that is death, and a destruction of the soul, insofar as it is only an Idea, knowledge, etc. of a body having this proportion of motion and rest.

15. However, because it is a mode in the thinking substance, it has been able to know and love this [substance] also, as well as that of [40] extension; and uniting itself with these substances (which always remain the same), it has been able to make itself eternal.4

[I/54] CHAPTER I
OF OPINION, BELIEF AND SCIENCE

[1] To begin our discussion of the modesa of which man consists, we shall say: 1. what they are, 2. what their effects are, and 3. what their [5] cause is.

Regarding the first, let us begin with those which are first 1known to us, viz. certain perceptions,1 or the consciousness, of the knowledge of ourselves and of those things that are outside us.2

[10] [2] We acquire these 2perceptions, then, either 1. simply through ‘belief’b (which comes either from experience or from report), or 2. through a true belief, or 3. through a clear and distinct concept.

[15] The first is commonly subject to error. The second and third, though they differ from one another, cannot err.

[3] To make this somewhat more clearly understood, we shall use an example taken from the rule of three.

[20] Someonec has merely heard someone else say that if, in the rule of three, you multiply the second and third numbers, and divide the product by the first, you then find the fourth number, which has the same proportion to the third as the second has to the first. And in spite of the fact that the one who told him this could have been lying, [25] he still governed his actions according to this rule, without having had any more knowledge of the rule of three than a blind man has of color. So whatever he may have been able to say about it, he repeated, as a parrot repeats what it has been taught.

A second person,d of quicker perception, is not content in this way [30] with report, but tests it with some particular calculations, and finding that these agree with it, he gives his ‘belief’ to it. But we have rightly said that this one too is subject to error. For how can he be sure that [I/55] the experience of some particular [cases] can be a rule for him for all.

A third,e being satisfied neither with report, because it can deceive, nor with the experience of some particular [cases], because it cannot [5] be a rule, consults true reason, which has never, when properly used, been deceptive. Reason tells him that because of the property of proportionality in these numbers, this is so, and could not have been, or happened, otherwise.

[10] But a fourth,f who has the clearest knowledge of all, has no need either of report, or of experience, or of the art of reasoning, because through his penetration he immediately sees the proportionality in all the calculations.3

CHAPTER II
[15] WHAT OPINION, BELIEF AND CLEAR KNOWLEDGE ARE

[1] We shall now come to treat of the effects of the different kinds of knowledge of which we have spoken in the preceding chapter, and as in passing, say again what opinion, belief and clear knowledge are.1

[20] [2] We call the first opinion because it is subject to error, and has no place in anything of which we are certain, but only where guessing and speculating are spoken of.

aWe call the second belief, because the things we grasp only through [25] reason, we do not see, but know only through a conviction in the intellect that it must be so and not otherwise.

But we call that clear knowledge which comes not from being convinced by reasons, but from being aware of and enjoying the thing itself. This goes far beyond the others.

[30] [3] This said, let us come now to their effects. From the first, we say, come 3all the passions which are contrary to good reason; from [I/56] the second, the good 4Desires; and from the third, true and genuine 5Love, with all that comes of that.

[4] 6So we maintain that knowledge is the proximate cause of all the [5] ‘Passions’ of the soul.2 For we consider it quite impossible that if someone neither perceives nor knows in any of the preceding ways, he should be able to be moved to Love, or Desire, or any other modes of will.

CHAPTER III
[10] OF THE ORIGIN OF THE PASSIONS IN OPINION

[1] Let us now see how the Passions arise, as we have said, from opinion. And to make this more intelligible, we shall take some particular [15] cases, and prove what we say by using them as examples.

[2] Let us take Wonder 7first. This is found in one who knows the thing in the first way, for because he draws a universal conclusion from some particular [cases],1 he is astonished when he sees something [20] that goes against this conclusion of hisa—like someone who has never seen any sheep without short tails, and wonders at those from Morocco, which have long ones.

[I/57] Similarly, they tell of a Peasant who deluded himself into thinking that, outside his fields, there were no others. But one day he missed one of his cows, and had to go far away in search of her. He was astonished that outside his own small farm there were so very many [5] others.

[3] Many Philosophers must also be like that. They have deluded themselves into thinking that beyond this plot of ground, or little globe, on which they are, there is nothing more (because they have seen nothing else). But there is no wonder in him who draws true conclusions. [10] This is one [passion].

[4]b The 8second will be love.2 Since this arises either from true perceptions, or from opinion, or finally, also from mere report, we shall first see how [it arises] from opinion, and then how [it arises] from [true] perceptions. For the first tends to our destruction, and the [15] second to our supreme salvation. And then [we shall see how it arises] from the last.

[5] Regarding the first, it is such that whenever someone sees something good, or thinks he does, he is always inclined to unite himself with it, and for the sake of the good that he perceives in it, he chooses [20] it as the best, apart from which he then knows nothing better or more pleasant.

But whenever it happens (as it usually does in these cases) that he comes to know something better than this good he now knows, then his love turns immediately from the first to the second. We shall make [25] all of this more evident when we discuss man’s freedom.

[6] Since this is not the place to speak of the love that arises from true perceptions,c we shall pass over them now, and speak of the third and last, viz. the love that comes from mere report.

[30] [7] We usually observe this in children in relation to their father. Because he says that this or that is good, they are inclined to it, without knowing anything more about it.

We also see it in those who, out of love, give up their lives for the Fatherland, and also in those who, because of a report about something, come to fall in love with it.

[I/58] [8] 9Hate, then, the direct opposite of Love, arises from that error which comes from opinion. For if someone has drawn the conclusion that something is good, and someone else does something to harm that thing, then the first person will acquire a hatred of the second. This [5] could never happen if one knew the true good, as we shall indicate later. For in comparison with the true good, whatever is, or is thought, is nothing but misery itself. And is not someone who loves misery in this way more worthy of compassion than of hate?

[10] Finally, Hate also comes from mere report—as we see in the Hate the Turks have against the Jews and the Christians, the Jews against the Turks and the Christians, and the Christians against the Jews and Turks, etc. For how ignorant most of these are of one another’s religion and customs.

[15] [9] As for 10desire—whether it consists (as some maintain) in an appetite or inclination to get what one lacks, or (as others contend), to preserve the things we already enjoyd—certainly it cannot be found to have occurred in anyone except for something which has seemed good.3

[20] [10] So it is clear that Desire, like the Love spoken of here, comes from the first kind of knowledge. For someone who hears that a thing is good acquires an appetite or inclination for it. This may be seen in a sick man, who, simply on hearing from the Doctor that such and such a remedy is good for his illness, is immediately inclined toward [25] it.

Desire comes also from experience,e as may be seen in the practice of Doctors. When they have found a certain remedy to be good in some cases, they usually regard it as something infallible.

[11] All that we have just said about these passions can equally be [30] said of all the others, as is clear to everyone. And since, in what follows, we shall begin to investigate which ones are rational for us, and which ones are irrational, we shall leave this topic for now and add no more.4

[I/59] CHAPTER IV
WHAT COMES FROM BELIEF [AND OF MAN’S GOOD AND EVIL]1

[1] In the preceding chapter we have shown how the passions arise [5] from the error of opinion. So now let us see the effects of the two other ways of knowing. First, of that which we have called true belief.a

[2] 12This shows us, indeed, what it belongs to the thing to be, but not what it truly is. That is why it can never unite us with the thing [10] we believe. I say, then, that it teaches us only what it belongs to the thing to be, not what it is. There is a great difference between the two. For as we have said in our example of the rule of three, if someone can discover through proportionality a fourth number that agrees [15] with the third as the second does with the first, then (having used multiplication and division) he can say that the four numbers must be proportional; but if this is so, then he speaks about it just as of a thing that is outside him. But if he comes to see the proportionality, as we [20] have shown in the fourth example, then he says that the thing is truly such, since then it is in him, not outside him. So much for the first effect of true belief.

[I/60] [3] The second is that it brings 13us to a clear understanding, through which we love God, and makes us perceive intellectually those things which are not in us, but outside us.

[5] [4] The third effect is that it provides 14us with the knowledge of good and evil, and shows us all the passions that are to be destroyed. And because, as we have already said, those passions which come from opinion are subject to great evil, it is worth the trouble to see [10] how they are sifted by this second kind of knowledge, to see what is good and what is evil in them.

b To do this conveniently, let us use the same method as before, and examine them closely, so as to know which we must choose and which [15] reject. But before we come to that, let us first say briefly what man’s good and evil are.

[5] We have already said before that all things are necessitated, and that in Nature there is no good and no evil. So whatever we require of [20] man, must relate only to his genus, and this is nothing but a being of reason. And when we have conceived an Idea of a 15perfect man in our intellect, that [Idea] 16could be a cause of our seeing (when we examine ourselves) whether we have any means of arriving at such a perfection.

[25] [6] 17Therefore, whatever helps us to attain that perfection, we shall call good, and whatever hinders our attaining it, or does not assist it, we shall call evil.

[7] 17I say, then, that I must conceive a perfect man, if I want to say anything regarding man’s good and evil. For if I discussed the [30] good and evil of, say, Adam, I would confuse a real being with a being of reason—something a true Philosopher must 18scrupulously avoid, for reasons we shall expound later, or on some other occasion.

[8] Since we are not aware of Adam’s end, or of that of any other [I/61] particular creature, except through the outcome, it follows that what we can say of man’s endc must be grounded on the concept in our intellect of a perfect man, whose end we can indeed know, because it [5] is a being of reason. We can also, as we have said, know his good and evil, which are only modes of thinking.

[9] To come gradually to the point, then, we have already indicated how the soul’s emotions, its passions and actions, arise from perception. [10] We have divided perception into four kinds: report alone, experience, belief, and clear knowledge. And since we have now seen the effects of all of these, it is evident from this that the fourth, 19clear knowledge, is the most perfect of all. For opinion often leads us into error; [15] true belief is good only because it is the way to true knowledge, awakening us to things that are truly worthy of love, so that the final end we seek, and the most excellent thing we know, is true knowledge.

[10] 20But this true knowledge is also distinguished according to the [20] objects presented to it. So the better the object with which it comes to unite itself, the better is this knowledge. 21And therefore, the most perfect man is the one who unites with the most perfect being, God, and thus enjoys him.

[11] So to discover what is good and evil in the Passions, let us take [25] them separately, as we have said. 22And first, Wonder. Because this arises either from ignorance or from prejudice, it is an imperfection in the man who is subject to this emotion. I say an imperfection, because Wonder through itself does not lead to any evil.

[I/62] CHAPTER V
OF LOVE

[1][3]1 Love, then, arises from the perception and knowledge which we have of a thing, and as the thing shows itself to be greater and [5] more magnificent, so also is our Love greater and greater.

[4] It is possible to rid ourselves of Love in two ways, either by knowledge of a better thing, or by finding that the thing we have loved, and have regarded as something great and magnificent, brings much misery with it.

[10] [2][5] But Love is also such that we never strive to free ourselves of it (as we do of wonder and the other passions). This is for two reasons: (1) because it is impossible; (2) because it is necessary that we not be free of it.

[15] [3] It is impossible because it does not depend on us, but only on the good or advantage we find in the object. If we did not want to love it, it would be necessary for us not to have known it before. And this does not depend on us or on our freedom. For if we knew nothing, [20] certainly we also were nothing.

[4] So it is necessary that we not be free of it, because, given the weakness of our nature, we could not exist if we did not enjoy something to which we were united, and by which we were strengthened.

[1] Love, then, is nothing but enjoying a thing and being united [25] with it.2 We divide it according to the qualities of the object man seeks to enjoy and unite with.

[5][2] 24Some objects are corruptible in themselves; 25others, through their cause, are not corruptible; but there is a third [object] which, [30] solely through its own power and capacity, is eternal and incorruptible.

The corruptible, then, are all the singular things, which have not existed from all time, or have had a beginning.

aThe next are all those modes which we have said are the cause of the singular modes.

[I/63] But the third is God, or what we take to be one and the same thing, the Truth.

[6] Which of these three kinds of object should we choose, and which reject?

[5] 27As far as the corruptible are concerned—because, as we have said, the weakness of our nature requires us to love something, and to unite ourselves with it, in order to exist—certainly loving them, and 28uniting ourselves with them, does not strengthen our nature at all. For they [10] are weak, and the one cripple cannot support the other. And not only do they not help us, but they are even harmful to 29us.

For we have said that Love is a union with an object that our intellect judges to be good and magnificent; and by that we understand a [15] union such that the lover3 and the loved come to be one and the same thing, or to form a whole together. So he who unites with corruptible things is always miserable. For because they are outside his power and subject to many accidents, it is impossible that, when they are acted on, he would be able to be freed of them.

[20] Consequently, we conclude that if they are so miserable who love corruptible things (which still have some essence), how miserable will they be who love honor, wealth, and sensual pleasure, which have no essence?4

[25] [7] Let this be enough, then, to show how 30Reason teaches us to separate ourselves from things so corruptible. For what we have just said indicates clearly to us the poison and the evil that lie hidden in the love of these things. But we shall see this incomparably more [30] clearly when we note how magnificent and excellent is the good from which we separate ourselves by enjoying these things.

[8] bWe said previously that the things that are corruptible are outside our power. Let us be properly understood. We do not mean that [I/64] we are a free cause, depending on nothing else. When we say that some things are in our power, and others outside it, we understand by those which are in our power those which we bring about through the order of, or together with, Nature, of which we are a part. By [5] those which are not in our power we understand those which, being outside us, do not undergo any changes through us, since they are very far removed from our actual essence, as it is constituted by Nature.

[9] Next we come to the second kind of objects. Though these are [10] eternal and incorruptible, they still are not such through their own power. 31And if we examine the question briefly, we shall immediately become aware that these are nothing but cmodes which depend immediately on God. Because that is their nature, we shall not be able to conceive them unless we have at the same time a concept of God. [15] Because he is perfect, our Love must necessarily rest in him. In a word, it will be impossible for us, if we use our intellect well, not to love God.

[10] The reasons why are clear:

[20] First, because we find that God alone has being, and all other things have no being, but are modes. And since modes cannot be understood properly without the being on which they immediately depend, and we have already shown that when we who love something come to [25] know something better than what we love, we always fall on it at once, and leave the first thing, it follows incontrovertibly that when we come to know God, who has all perfection in himself alone, we must love him.

[11] Second, if we use our intellect well in the knowledge of things, [30] we must know them in their causes. Now since God is a first cause of all other things, the knowledge of God is prior, according to the nature of things, to the knowledge of all other things, because the knowledge of all other things must follow from knowledge of the first [I/65] cause.

True love comes always from knowledge that the thing is splendid and good. What else, then, can follow, but that love will be able to pour forth more powerfully on the lord 32our God than on anyone [5] else? For he alone is magnificent, and a perfect Good.

[12] So we see, then, how we make Love powerful,5 and also how it must rest only in God. What we had to say further about Love, we shall try to do when we treat of the last kind of knowledge. Now we [10] shall return to our promised investigation of which ‘passions’6 we have to accept, and which reject.

CHAPTER VI
OF HATE

[15] [1] Hate is an Inclination to avoid something which has caused us some evil.1

Here we note that we perform our actions in two ways, viz. with or without passions. A common example of an action with passions [20] occurs in the treatment masters accord their servants who have done wrong, for this is commonly accompanied by anger. Socrates, they say, provides us with an example of action without the passions. For when he was obliged to correct his servant by punishing him, he did [25] not do this so long as he was aware of being angry at him.

[2] Because we see now that we perform our actions either with or without passions, we 33consider it clear that such things as are, or have been, an obstacle to us can be removed, if necessary, without emotion on our part. So which is better: that we should shun things with Aversion and Hate? or that through the power of reason we should [I/66] endure them without emotion (for we consider this possible)?

First, it is certain that when we do the things we must without passion, then no evil can come of that. And as there is no mean between [5] good and evil, we see that if it is evil to act with passion, it must be good to act 34without it.

[3] But let us see whether there is anything evil in shunning things with Hate and Aversion.

As for the Hate which stems from opinion, certainly that should [10] have no place in us. For we know that one and the same thing is at one time good for us, at another, bad for us (as is always the case with medicinal herbs).

So in the end, it comes to this: does Hate arise in us only through opinion, or sometimes also through true reasoning? To answer this, it [15] seems good to us to explain clearly what Hate is, and to distinguish it from aversion.

[4] I say, then, that Hate is an emotion of the soul against someone who has knowingly and willingly done us some ill. But aversion is that emotion against a thing which arises in us from some trouble or [20] injury which we either understand or opine it to cause by its nature.

I say by nature, for if we do not think so, then we are not averse to it, even though we have received some hindrance or injury from it, because, on the contrary, we expect some advantage from it—as someone [25] who has been hurt by a stone or a knife does not, on that account, have any aversion to it.

[5] This being noted, let us look briefly at the effects of both of these. From Hate, then, comes sadness; 36and if the Hate is great, it [30] produces anger, which strives not only (like Hate) to shun what is hated, but also to destroy it, if possible. This great Hate also produces Envy.

But 37 Aversion produces some sadness because we strive to deprive ourselves of something which, being real, must always have also its own essence and perfection.

[I/67] [6] From what we have said, then, it can easily be understood that, when we use our reason well, we can have no Hate or Aversion toward anything, because in [having such emotions] we deprive ourselves of the perfection that is in each thing. And so we also see through [5] reason that we can never have any Hate toward anyone, because if we will something regarding anything in Nature, we must always change it for the better, either for ourselves or for the thing itself.

[7] And because a perfect man is the best of all that we presently [10] know, or have before our eyes, then it is by far the best, both for us and for everyone individually, that we strive at all times to bring [men] to that perfect state. For only then can we have from them, and they from us, the greatest benefit.

The way to do this is for us always to treat them as our good [15] Conscience constantly teaches and exhorts us to do. For this never prompts us to our destruction, but always to our salvation.

[8] In conclusion we say that Hate and Aversion have in them as many imperfections as love has perfections. For love always produces [20] improvement, strengthening, and increase, which is perfection.2 Hate, on the other hand, always leads to desolation, weakening, and destruction, which is imperfection itself.

CHAPTER VII
OF JOY AND SADNESS1

[1]a We have seen that hate and wonder are such that we may freely say that they can have no place in those who use their intellect as they should. So we shall now proceed in the same way and speak of the other passions. To begin with, the first will be bDesire and Joy.

[I/68] Since these arise from the same causes as love does, we have nothing to say about them except that we must remember what we said then. With that we leave them.

[5] [2]c To these we shall add Sadness, of which we dare say that it arises only from opinion and the error2 which follows from that. For it comes from the loss of some good.

Now we have said before that everything we do must tend toward advancement and improvement. But it is certain that so long as we are [10] sad, we make ourselves incapable of doing such things. Therefore we must free ourselves of it. We can do this by thinking of ways to regain what we have lost, if this is in our power. If not, we must still dispel the Sadness, in order not to fall into all the misery that it necessarily [15] brings with it. Whichever we do, it must be with Joy. For it is foolish to want to recover and reclaim a lost good by an evil we ourselves have desired and fostered.

[3] Finally, he who uses his intellect properly must know God first, since God, as we have proven, is the greatest good, and all good. So [20] it follows incontrovertibly that someone who uses his intellect properly cannot fall into Sadness. For how could he? He rests in that good which is all good, and in which there is the fullness of all Joy and satisfaction.

CHAPTER VIII
[25] OF ESTEEM AND DISDAIN1

[1]a Now we shall speak of Esteem and Disdain, of Legitimate Self-esteem and Humility, of Pride and Self-depreciation. To distinguish the good and evil in them, we shall take them one by one.

[30] [2] Esteem and Disdain occur only when we judge something to be great or small, whether this great or small thing is inside us or outside us.2

[I/69] [3] Legitimate Self-esteem does not extend to things outside us and is only attributed to one who knows his perfection according to its true worth, without passion, and without regard to [others’] esteem of him.

[5] [4] Humility exists when someone knows his own imperfection, without regard to [others’] disdain of him; it does not extend to anything outside the humble man.

[5] Pride exists when someone attributes to himself a perfection that is not to be found in him.

[10] [6] Self-depreciation exists when someone attributes to himself an imperfection that does not belong to him.

Here I am talking not about hypocrites, who depreciate themselves to deceive others, without meaning what they say, but about those who believe themselves to be as imperfect as they say they are.

[15] [7] From what we have now noted, it is clear enough what there is of good and evil in each of these ‘passions.’

As far as Legitimate Self-esteem and Humility are concerned, through themselves they show their excellence. For we say that he who has [20] these knows his perfection or imperfection according to its worth. And this, as reason teaches us, is the chief means of attaining our perfection. For if we know our power and perfection accurately, we thereby see clearly what we must do to attain our good end. And again, if we [25] know our defect and lack of power, we see what we must avoid.

[8] As for Pride and Self-depreciation, their definitions indicate that they arise from a kind of error.3 For we said that Pride is attributed to one who ascribes to himself some perfection, which does not belong [30] to him. And Self-depreciation is the direct opposite.

[9] This said, it is evident that Legitimate Self-esteem and true Humility4 are as good and salutary as Pride and Self-depreciation are evil and destructive. For the former not only put their possessor in a very good state, but they are also the true stairway on which we climb to our highest salvation.

[I/70] The latter two, on the other hand, not only prevent us from attaining our perfection, but lead us to total destruction. Self-depreciation is what prevents us from doing what we should otherwise have to do [5] to become perfect. We see this in the Skeptics, who deny that man can have any truth, and by that denial, deprive themselves of having truth. Pride is what causes us to undertake things that tend directly to our destruction. We see this in all those who have been, or are, deluded into thinking that they stand wonderfully well with God; [10] standing in awe of no danger, ready for everything, they brave fire and water in their pride, and so die most miserably.

[10] As for Esteem and Disdain, there is no more to say of these, except to keep in mind what we have said of love.5

[15] CHAPTER IX
OF HOPE, FEAR, ETC.

[1]a We shall now begin to speak of Hope and Fear, Confidence, Despair, and Vacillation, Strength of Character, Tenacity and Emulation, Cowardice, Consternation, [and Jealousy]. As usual, we shall [20] take them one by one, and then indicate which of these are a hindrance and which can be advantageous.

We shall be able to do all this very easily, provided we take note of the conceptions which we can have of a thing which is to come, whether [25] it is good or evil.

[2] The conceptions we have in respect to the thing itself are either that we regard the thing as contingent, i.e., as able to happen or not happen, or that we regard it as happening necessarily. This is in respect to the thing itself.

[30] With respect to him who conceives the thing, [we conceive] either that he must do something to further the thing’s happening, or that he must do something to prevent it.

[3] From these conceptions all these ‘passions’ come, in the following [I/71] way. If we conceive that a future thing is good, and that it could happen, then from this the soul acquires a form that we call Hope. This is nothing but a certain kind of joy, mixed, however, with a certain sadness.

[5] And again, if we judge that the thing possible in the future is evil, the soul acquires from this the form we call Fear.

But if we conceive the thing to be good, and at the same time as necessarily to come, then from this there comes into the soul that tranquillity which we call Confidence. This is a kind of joy which is [10] not, as hope is, mixed with sadness.

But if we conceive a thing to be evil, and as necessarily to come, from this there arises in the soul Despair, which is nothing but a certain kind of sadness.

[4] So far our definitions of the passions considered in this Chapter [15] have been put in an affirmative way, and we have thus said what each of them is. But we can reverse the procedure and define them negatively, as follows: we hope that the evil will not come; we fear that the good will not come; we are confident that the evil will not come; [20] we despair that the good will not come.

[5] This will suffice for the passions insofar as they come from conceptions in respect to the thing itself. We must now speak of those which arise from conceptions in respect to him who conceives the [25] thing:

If we must do something to bring the thing about, and [can] make no decision about the thing, then the soul acquires a form we call Vacillation.

But if it decides in a manly way to bring the thing about, and this [30] can be done, then this is called Strength of Character. And if the thing is difficult to bring about, it is called Tenacity, or Bravery. When, however, someone decides to do a thing because someone else has done it before him with success, that is called Emulation.

If someone knows what decision he must make, to further a good [I/72] thing and prevent an evil one, and nevertheless does not do this, one calls this Cowardice, and if it is very great, Consternation.

Finally, Jealousy is an anxiety one has about being allowed to enjoy [5] and preserve exclusively something that has already been acquired.

[6] Because we now know how these ‘passions’ arise, it will be quite easy for us to show which are good and which are evil.

As for Hope, Fear, Confidence, Despair, and Jealousy, it is certain [10] that they arise from an incorrect opinion. For as we have already proven, all things have their necessary causes and must happen as they do happen.

And though 37Confidence and Despair seem to have a place in the [15] inviolable order and series of causes (for there everything is inviolable and unalterable), nevertheless when we examine the matter rightly, we find that is far from being the truth. For Confidence and Despair never exist unless Hope and Fear have previously existed (for they have their being from them).

[20] For example, if someone thinks something he is waiting for is good, he acquires in his soul that form we call Hope; and if he is assured of what he thinks is good, then his soul acquires that satisfaction we call Confidence.

What we have just said about Confidence must also be said about [25] Despair. But according to what we said about love, these [passions] can have no place in a perfect man: because they presuppose things we must not attach ourselves to, since they are subject to change (as is noted in relation to the definition of love).

[30] Nor may we have an aversion to them (as is shown in relation to the definition of hate). Nevertheless, the man who has these passions is always subject to such attachments and aversions.

[7] 38As for Vacillation, Cowardice, and Consternation, their very kind and nature indicates their imperfection. For whatever they contribute [I/73] to our advantage comes from actions of their nature only negatively. For example, someone hopes for something which he thinks is good, but which is not good. Nevertheless, because of his Vacillation or Cowardice, he happens to lack the Strength of Character required [5] to carry it out. So, negatively, or by chance, he is freed of the evil he thought was good.

These, then, also cannot have any place in the man who is led by true reason.

[8] Finally, regarding Strength of Character, Tenacity and Emulation, [10] there is nothing else to say about them except what we have already said about love and hate.

CHAPTER X
OF REMORSE AND REPENTANCE

[1]a Now we shall speak of Remorse and Repentance, but only briefly. [15] These occur only by surprise;1 for Remorse proceeds only from our doing something of which we afterwards doubt whether it is good or evil, while Repentance proceeds from our having done something evil.

[2] And because many people who use their intellect well sometimes [20] go astray, lacking the discipline required to always use their intellect properly, some might perhaps think that Remorse and Repentance would bring them to the right path, and conclude, as the whole world does,2 that these are good.

[25] But if we consider them correctly, we shall find that they are not only not good, 39but on the contrary, injurious, and consequently evil. For it is manifest that we always come to the right path more through reason and love of truth than through Remorse and Repentance. And [30] because they are species of sadness, which we have already proven to be injurious, and which we must therefore strive to avoid, as an evil, these too are injurious, evil, and to be shunned and fled.

[I/74] CHAPTER XI
OF MOCKERY AND RIDICULE

[1]a Mockery and Ridicule rest on a false opinion and indicate an imperfection in him who mocks and ridicules.

[5] They rest on a false opinion, because one thinks that he who is mocked is the first cause of his actions, and that they do not (like other things in Nature) depend necessarily on God.

They indicate an imperfection in him who mocks because either [10] what is mocked is ridiculous or it is not. If not, the mockery shows that he is ill-natured, mocking what does not deserve to be mocked. If it is ridiculous, then the mockery shows that he recognizes in the one mocked an imperfection which he ought improve with good reasons, [15] not mockery.1

[2] Laughter is not related to another, but only to the man who notices something good in himself; and because it is a certain kind of joy, there is nothing to say about it which has not already been said about joy.

[20] I am speaking here of such laughter as is produced by a certain idea which rouses one to laugh, not of the laughter produced by a motion of the [animal] spirits.2 Since the latter has no relation to good or evil, it would be out of place to speak of it here.

[3] We shall say nothing here about Envy, Anger, and Indignation, [25] except to recall what we have previously said about hate.

CHAPTER XII
OF LOVE OF ESTEEM, SHAME AND SHAMELESSNESS

[1]a We shall now speak briefly about Love of Esteem,1 Shame and Shamelessness.

[30] The first is a certain kind of joy which everyone feels in himself when he becomes aware that his conduct is esteemed and praised by others, without regard to any advantage or profit they have in view.

[I/75] Shame is a certain sadness which arises in someone if he comes to see that his conduct is disdained by others, without regard to any disadvantage or injury they have in view.

[5] Shamelessness is nothing but a lack or rejection of Shame, not through reason, but either through ignorance of Shame (as in children, savages, etc.), or through having been so greatly disdained that one now will do anything without regard to criticism.

[2] Now that we know these passions, we also know the vanity and [10] imperfection they have in them. For not only are Love of Esteem and Shame not advantageous, according to what we have noted in their definitions, they are also injurious and objectionable, insofar as they are built on self-love, and on an error, that man is a first cause of his own actions, and consequently deserving of praise and blame.

[15] [3] But I don’t mean that one must live among men as one would live without them, where Love of Esteem and Shame have no place. On the contrary, I grant that we are permitted not only to use [these passions] for men’s advantage and improvement, but also to do this even if it involves a restriction of our own freedom, which is otherwise [20] complete and lawful.

For example, if someone dresses expensively in order to be honored for that, then he seeks an Esteem that arises from self-love, not from any regard for his fellow men: But if someone sees that men disdain [25] his wisdom, by which he could be helpful to his fellow men, and trample it under foot because he dresses badly, then he does well if he provides himself with clothing that will not shock them, thereby becoming like his fellow men in order to win them over and help them.

[30] [4] As for Shamelessness, this shows itself to be such that we need only its definition to see its deformity. And that will be enough for us.

[I/76] CHAPTER XIII
OF FAVOR, GRATITUDE AND INGRATITUDE.1

[1] We come now to Favor, Gratitude and Ingratitude. As for the first two, they are inclinations the soul has to desire and to do some good [5] to its fellows. To desire, I say, when to one who has done some good, good is done in return; to do, I say, when we ourselves have obtained or received some good.2

[2] I know, of course, that all men judge these passions to be good. [10] But notwithstanding that, I dare say they can have no place in a perfect man. For a perfect man is moved to help his fellow man only by necessity, without any other cause. And therefore he finds himself all the more obliged to help the most godless, since he sees that they have [15] the greater misery and need.

[3] Ingratitude is a disdain for Gratitude (as shamelessness is for shame), arising not from reason, but either from greed or from an all too great love of oneself. That is why it can have no place in a perfect [20] man.

CHAPTER XIV
OF LONGING

[1]a We shall conclude our treatment of the passions by speaking about Longing. Longing is a kind of sadness arising from the consideration [25] of some good that we have lost and that there is no hope of our regaining.

It manifests its imperfection to us in such a way that as soon as we examine it, we find it to be bad. For we have already proven that it [30] is bad to tie ourselves to things which can easily, or at some time, fail us, and which we cannot have when we will. And because it is a certain kind of sadness, we have to avoid it, as we noted before, when we were treating of sadness.

[I/77] [2] I think I have now indicated sufficiently, and proven, that it is only true belief or reason that leads us to the knowledge of good and [5] evil. So when we prove that the first and principal cause of all these ‘passions’ is knowledge, then it will be clearly evident that when we use our intellect and reason properly, we can never fall into one of [10] those we are to reject. I say our intellect, for I do not think that reason alone has the power to free us from all of these, as we shall prove later, in its place.

[3] But we must note here an excellent thing about the ‘passions,’ [15] viz. we see and find that all those ‘passions’ which are good are of such a kind and nature that without them we can neither be nor persist, and they belong to us, as it were, essentially. Such are love, desire, and everything that is proper to love.

But it is quite the contrary with those which are evil, and to be [20] rejected by us. Not only can we be very well without them, but also only when we have made ourselves free of them, can we be properly what it belongs to us to be.

[4] To make all of this still clearer, note that the foundation of all [25] good and evil is love falling on a certain object. For whenever we do not love that object which alone is worthy of being loved, i.e. (as we have already said), God, but love those things which through their own kind and nature are corruptible, there follow necessarily from that hate, sadness, etc., according to the changes in the object loved [30] (because the object is subject to many accidents, indeed to destruction itself). Hate: when someone takes the thing he loves away from him. Sadness: when he loses it. Love of Esteem: when he depends on love of himself. Favor and Gratitude: when he does not love his fellow man for the sake of God.

[I/78] 47If, on the other hand, a man comes to love God, who always is and remains immutable, it is impossible for him to fall into this bog of the passions. And therefore, we maintain it as a fixed and unshakeable rule, 48that God is the first and only cause of all our good, and [5] one who frees us from all our evil.

[5] 49We must note, finally, that only Love, etc., are unlimited, viz. the more it increases, the more excellent it becomes, since it falls on an object that is infinite. That is why it can always increase, which is [10] not possible with any other thing. bAnd perhaps this will later give us material from which we shall prove the immortality of the soul, and how that can be.1

[6] Having spoken up to now of everything which the third kind of effect of true belief shows us, we shall now proceed to speak of the fourth and last effect, which we did not mention on p. [I/60].2

CHAPTER XV
[15] OF THE TRUE AND THE FALSE

[1] Let us now examine the True and the False, which indicate to us the fourth and last effect of true belief. To do this, we shall first state the definitions of truth and falsity:

Truth, then, is an affirmation (or denial) which one makes concerning [20] a thing and which agrees with the thing itself.1

Falsity is an affirmation (or denial) about a thing which does not agree with the thing itself.

[2] 50But this being so, it will seem either that there is no distinction between the false and the true Idea, or that there is no real distinction between them, 51but only a distinction of reason, because affirming or [25] denying this or that are only modes of thinking, and have no other distinction between them than that the one agrees with the thing and the other does not.

And if that should be so, one could rightly ask 52what advantage one man has with his Truth, and what harm the other has through [30] his Falsity? 53And how will the one know that his concept or Idea agrees more with the thing than the other’s does? Finally, how is it that the one errs and the other does not?

[3] To this we may answer, first, that the things which are clearest [I/79] of all make known both themselves and also Falsity, so that it would be very foolish to ask how one can be aware of them.a For because they are said to be the clearest of all, there can never be any other [5] clarity through which they could be explained. So it follows that Truth manifests both itself and falsity. For Truth becomes clear through Truth, i.e., through itself, as Falsity is also clear through Truth. But Falsity is never manifested or indicated through itself.

[10] So someone who has the Truth cannot doubt that he has it. But someone who is stuck in Falsity or error can indeed think that he has the Truth. Similarly, someone who is dreaming can think that he is awake, but no one who is awake can ever think that he is dreaming.

[15] (Having said this, we have to some extent explained also our previous statement that God is Truth, or that the Truth is God himself.)

[4] Why, then, is the one more aware of his Truth than the other? Because the Idea of affirmation (or denial) [in the first]2 agrees completely [20] with the nature of the thing, and consequently has more essence.

[5] To grasp this better, note that the intellect (though the word sounds otherwise) is wholly passive,3 i.e., that our soul is changed in such a way that it acquires other modes of thinking it did not have [25] before. Now if someone, because the whole object has acted in him, acquires such forms or modes of thinking, it is clear that he acquires a completely different sense of the form or quality of the object than another who has not had so many causes, and so is moved to affirm [30] or deny by a different, and slighter action (since he becomes aware of it in himself by a few, or lesser, affections).

[6] From this we see the perfection of one who has the Truth, as opposed to one who doesn’t have it. Because the one easily changes, and the other does not, it follows that the one has more constancy and [I/80] essence than the other. And so also, because those modes of thinking which agree with the thing have had more causes, they have more constancy and essence in them also. Because they agree completely with the thing, it is impossible that at some time they can be differently [5] affected by the thing, or undergo any change. For as we have said before, the essence of a thing is immutable. None of this is true of Falsity.

And with this the questions above are satisfactorily answered.4

[10] CHAPTER XVI1
OF THE WILL

[1]a Now that we know what good and evil, and truth and falsehood are, and also what the well-being of a perfect man consists in, it is time to begin investigating ourselves, 54and to see whether we arrive [15] at such a well-being freely or by necessity. For this purpose it is necessary for us to investigate what the Will is, according to those who posit the Will, and how it is distinguished from Desire.

[2] Desire, we have said, is that inclination which the Soul has toward something it considers good. From this it follows that before our [20] Desire extends externally to something, a decision has already taken place in us that such a thing is good. This affirmation, then, or taken generally, the power of affirming and denying, is called the Will.b

[I/81] [3] The question now is whether this affirmation of ours happens freely or by necessity, i.e., whether we affirm or deny something of a thing without 55any external cause compelling us to do so. But we [5] have already proven that a thing which is not explained through itself, or whose existence does not belong to its essence, must necessarily have an external cause, and that a cause which is going to produce something must produce it necessarily. So it must also follow that the particular willing this or that, the particular affirming or denying this [I/82] or that of a thing, must proceed from some external cause; and the definition we have given of a cause is that it cannot be free.

[I/81/10] [3a]2 It is certain that the particular willing must have an external cause through which it is. For since existence does not belong to its essence, it must necessarily exist through the existence of something else.

Some say: the efficient cause [of the particular willing] is not an [15] Idea,3 but the Will itself in the man; and the intellect is a cause without which the Will can do nothing;4 therefore, the Will, taken as undetermined, and also the intellect, are not beings of reason, but real beings.

But I say: when I consider them attentively, they seem to me to be universals, and I cannot attribute anything real to them. But even if [20] they are real beings, nevertheless, one must grant that the Volition is a modification of the Will, and the Idea a modification of the intellect. It follows necessarily that the intellect and the Will are different and really distinct substances. For the substance is modified, not the mode itself. If the soul is said to govern these two substances, then there is a third substance.

[25] All this confuses things so that it is impossible to have a clear and distinct perception of them. For because the Idea is not in the Will, but in the intellect, then according to the principle that the mode of one substance cannot pass into another substance, no love can arise in [30] the Will. For it involves a contradiction that one should will something the idea of which is not in the power which wills.

If you say that the Will, because of its union with the intellect, also perceives the same thing the intellect understands, and therefore also loves it, [the reply is that] because perceiving is also a concept and a [35] confused Idea, it too is a mode of the intellect, and according to the preceding, cannot be in the Will, even if there were a union like that of soul and body. For assume that the body is united with the soul, according to the common doctrine of the Philosophers; nevertheless, [I/82/17] the body never senses, nor is the soul extended. For then a Chimera, in which we conceive two substances, would be able to become one. And that is false.

If one says that the soul governs both the intellect and the Will, [20] that cannot be conceived. For in so doing we seem to deny that the Will is free, which is contrary to their position.

To conclude, then, I have no desire to bring up all the objections I have against positing a created finite substance. But I shall only show briefly that Freedom of the Will is completely inconsistent with a [25] continuous creation, viz. that the same action is required in God to preserve [a thing] in being as to create it, and that without this action the thing could not exist for a moment. If this is so, nothing can be attributed to [the will].5 But one must say that God has created it as it is; for since it has no power to preserve itself while it exists, much [30] less can it produce something through itself. If someone should say, therefore, that the soul produces the volition of itself, I ask: from what power? Not from that which was, for that no longer exists. Nor from that which it now has, for it does not have any by which it could exist or endure for the least moment, because it is continuously created. So [35] because there is no thing which has any power to preserve itself or to produce anything, the only conclusion left is that God alone is, and must be, the efficient cause of all things, and that all Volitions are determined by him.

[I/82/5] [4] Possibly this will not satisfy some, who are accustomed to occupy themselves more with Beings of Reason6 than with the particular things which are truly in Nature. In doing this, they consider the Being of Reason not as what it is, but as a Real Being. For because man has now this, now that Volition, he forms in his soul a universal mode [10] which he calls the Will, just as he forms the Idea of man from this and that man. And because he does not sufficiently distinguish real beings from beings of reason, it comes about that he considers the beings of reason as things that are truly in Nature, and thus posits [15] himself as a cause of some things.

This happens not infrequently in treating the matter of which we [I/83] speak. For if you ask someone why man wills this or that, the answer is: because he has a Will. But since, as we have said, the Will is only an Idea of this or that volition (and therefore only a mode of thinking, a Being of Reason, not a Real Being), nothing can be produced by it. For [5] nothing comes of nothing. So I think that when we have shown that the Will is no thing in Nature, but only a fiction, we do not need to ask whether it is free or not.

[5] I say this not only of the universal Will, which we have shown [10] to be a mode of thinking, but also of the particular willing this or that, which some have posited in affirmation or denial. This will be clear to anyone who only attends to what we have already said.c For we have said that the intellect is wholly passive, i.e., a perception in the [15] soul of the essence and existence of things. So it is never we who affirm or deny something of the thing; it is the thing itself that affirms or denies something of itself in us.7

[6] Some, perhaps, will not grant this, because it seems to 56them that they can affirm or deny of the thing something other than what [20] they are aware of. But they think this only because they have no conception of the concept which the soul has of the thing, without or apart from words. It is, of course, true that we can (when there are reasons which move us to do so) indicate to others, by words or other [25] means, something other than what we are aware of. But we shall never bring it about, either by words or by any other means, that we think differently about the things than we do think about them. That is impossible, as is clear to all, once they attend only to their intellect, apart from the use of words or other symbols.

[30] [7] 57But against this, some could perhaps say that if it is not we, but only the thing, which affirms or denies [something] of itself in us, then nothing can be affirmed or denied except what agrees with the thing. So there is no falsity. For we have said that falsity is affirming (or denying) something of a thing that does not agree with the thing, [I/84] i.e., that the thing does not affirm or deny that of itself.

But I think that if only we attend properly to what we have already said about truth and falsity, we shall immediately see that this objection [5] has been satisfactorily answered. For we have said that the object is the cause of what is affirmed or denied of it,8 whether it is true or false, i.e., because we perceive something coming from the object, we imagine that the object affirms or denies this of itself as a whole (even though we perceive [10] very little of it). This occurs most in weak souls which very easily receive a mode or idea through a slight action of the object on them. Apart from this there is no other affirming or denying in them.

1 Freudenthal 1, 227ff. Some of the details of Stolle’s account, however, seem incorrect. The chapter on the Devil is XXV in our manuscript. More important, Stolle’s claim that the work was originally written in Dutch is contradicted by the subtitle.

2 Though Letter 6 (IV/36/10-25) is almost certainly referring to this work. And L. Meyer apparently referred to it in his Philosophia Sacrae Scripturae Interpres (1666).

3 The classic article on this topic is Freudenthal 2, which exercised considerable influence on Gebhardt and other subsequent editors and translators. It should be noted, however, that the most recent editor, Mignini, reacts strongly against many of Freudenthal’s and Gebhardt’s conclusions. The general tendency of his work is to affirm the integrity of the manuscript.

4 As drafts of the Ethics and the geometric exposition of Descartes’ “Principles” were circulated. Cf. Letters 8 and 13. Letter 6 (IV/36), however, indicates that at that stage Spinoza was contemplating publication of the Short Treatise.

5 Gebhardt brackets the notes he prints but does not regard as Spinoza’s. I have normally indicated this by a bracketed comment following the note. Sometimes I find Gebhardt too ready to bracket notes and where it has seemed to me that there was reason to retain the note, I have indicated this. Many of the notes in Part II are mere marginal summaries of the central point in the text (in the manner of the marginal notes Meyer added to the Metaphysical Thoughts). Gebhardt relegates all of these to his textual commentary. The new critical edition by Mignini, however, prints them with the text. Since Mignini’s edition became available to me only at a very late stage of my work on this translation, I have not tried, as he does, to reproduce in print the exact arrangement of the manuscript. But I have tried, in my notes, to give an account of any marginalia that might have any importance.

6 Boehm considers the eleven passages that Gebhardt cites at I/428 and finds only one of them even partly convincing. Without going into details of specific passages, I would suggest that Gebhardt’s list omits some of the strongest cases. For example, I think the use of geloof at I/54/10-11, where one would expect waan, is better evidence for Gebhardt’s thesis than the cases he cites. In Curley 1, I argue that other inconsistencies in the use of technical terminology indicate that two different translators may have had a hand in producing different strata in our manuscript. Some of Boehm’s arguments are ad hominen, directed against Gebhardt’s theory that the Treatise was first dictated in Dutch, then reworked in Latin, and then translated back into Dutch. Someone who thinks the manuscript a translation, however, need not adopt that theory of its composition, as Mignini’s work illustrates.

7 On this, see Freudenthal 2. The references to other parts of the Treatise and the dialogues’ connection with one another seem good evidence for Freudenthal’s view that the dialogues are not earlier than the main text, though Gueroult apparently regards both dialogues as earlier (Gueroult 1, 472). In Curley 1, I argue that at least the second dialogue and certain sections of II, xxvi, are later than the main body of the text.

8 Mignini’s edition was the first to reproduce these sequences of numbers in the text itself. It is clear that they are not footnote numbers. To distinguish them from footnotes, they are set in italics in this edition. Mignini has argued at some length (Mignini 3) that these numbers represent Spinoza’s own thoughts about the reordering of his material, a transitional phase, intermediate between the order of the Short Treatise and the order of the Ethics. The first series stops abruptly in I, i, presumably because the copyist would not take the trouble to reproduce features of the manuscript that meant nothing to him. The second series, which runs, with some lacunae, throughout KV II, is better preserved. If Mignini’s ingenious hypothesis about these numbers is correct, the consequences are very important. Not only would we be able to feel greater confidence in the integrity of our manuscript, since Spinoza himself would have seen something closely approximating our manuscript but also we would have an insight into the development of Spinoza’s thought between the Short Treatise and the Ethics and a further tool for the establishment of the text (cf. Mignini on KV I, i, 1, and on II, xix, 12). In such matters proof is out of the question, but it seems fair to say that no one else has advanced any plausible alternative explanation of the number sequences.

9 Cf. Francès in Pléiade, 3: “Sauf entre les mains de commentateurs spécialisés de ce philosophe ou de critiques de textes méfiants par profession, la confrontation de cette copie suspecte au reste de l’oeuvre de Spinoza offre beaucoup plus d’inconvénients que d’avantages.”

10 As Gueroult frequently does in the appendices to Gueroult 1, on such topics as: the definitions of substance and attribute (I, app. 2), God’s essence (I, app. 6), the proofs of God’s existence (I, app. 8), determinism (I, app. 16), the physics of bodies (II, app. 7), and the different kinds of knowledge (II, app. 16).

1 The author of this outline has usually been thought to be the Amsterdam philosopher, Willem Deurhoff (1650-1717). Some, however, attribute it to Monnikhoff. Cf. Gebhardt I/436.

2 In B (i.e., in Monnikhoff s version of this outline, which he prefaced to his manuscript of the Short Treatise): “that there can only exist one of the same nature.” Cf. I/20/4.

3 Freudenthal (followed by Wolf) asserted that the Dialogues were not mentioned in the Outline, which might cast doubt on their authenticity. But as Gebhardt points out, that is incorrect.

4 Whoever the author of this outline was, he was clearly not a Spinozist.

5 The manuscript, has zij, which Meijer and Appuhn gloss as “the human soul.” If the reference is to “the (true) intellect,” as the context would lead us to expect, grammar would require het. Nevertheless, that would be a more accurate account of II, xxvi.

1 Meijer suggests that the “short” (korte) of the title translated contractus rather than brevis, and so had reference to the somewhat summary style of exposition, not to the length of the work.

The term translated by “well-being” is welstand. The Pléiade editors (Pléiade, 1361) suggest that this translates beatitudo; in his Latin translation of the outline, Meijer renders it by salus (an interpretation supported by the NS at E VP36CS). If either is correct there are religious overtones not captured by “well-being.” I retain Wolf’s translation mainly because I am reluctant to alter the title of a work when it has become well-entrenched.

2 This long subtitle was evidently not written by Spinoza himself. The Pléiade editors (Pléiade, 1362) remark that the tone suggests a follower of one of the Protestant sects flourishing in Holland at that time—possibly Jarig Jelles, for whom the translation of the Short Treatise may have been done.

3 Note that the two dialogues following Chapter II are not mentioned in the Table of the Chapters.

4 The title here given to the second book is not the same as that given at the beginning of Book II. Note also that the appendices and the Preface to Book II are not mentioned.

1 The manuscript gives no title for this part of the work, though there is one for the second part. Gebhardt supplies a title from the Table of Contents.

2 The abrupt beginning of this chapter has suggested to some scholars that some material might have been lost. Also suspicious is the absence of a definition of God. Freudenthal conjectured that the chapter may originally have begun: “Man has in him an idea of God as a being consisting of infinite attributes, of which each is infinitely perfect in its kind. We shall first [in Chapter I] show that such a being exists, and then [in Chapter II] show what he is.…” This is based partly on the summary of Chapter I in the Outline, which Freudenthal conjectured to rest on a lost, more complete manuscript. Although Gebhardt had accepted this conjecture in his translation of the Short Treatise (1922), in his edition (1925) he rejected it on the ground that the summary in the Outline contains nothing that could not have been reconstructed from passages in the existing manuscript. Mignini defends the integrity of the text at length.

I incline to the view that the ms. Spinoza circulated among his friends probably did not begin with a definition of God, that Spinoza had not yet appreciated the need to begin an a priori proof of God’s existence with a true definition of God (cf. I/249/22) and that n. b in this chapter may owe its existence to someone’s having objected to the absence of a definition of God. In this connection, I think the absence of definitions in the first appendix is significant.

a Understand the definite nature, by which the thing is what it is, and which cannot [I/15] in any way be taken from it without destroying it, as it belongs to the essence of a [25] mountain to have a valley, or the essence of a mountain is that it has a valley. This is truly eternal and immutable, and must always be in the concept of a mountain, even if it does not exist, and never did.

b From the subsequent definition (in Chapter II) of God as having infinite attributes, we can prove his existence as follows: whatever we clearly and distinctly see to belong [30] to the nature of a thing, we can also truly affirm of the thing; but to the nature of a being that has infinite attributes, an ‘attribute’ belongs, which is Being. Therefore.3

If someone now replies that this may indeed be affirmed of the Idea, but not of the thing itself, that is false. For the Idea [of this being and] of the attribute belonging to it [I/16] does not exist materially. So what is affirmed [of the Idea], is affirmed neither of the [30] thing nor of what belongs to it, so that there is a great difference between the Idea and the Object: therefore, what is affirmed of the thing is not affirmed of the Idea, and vice versa.4

3 Meijer incorporated this and the following two notes into the text immediately after section 2. In favor of this arrangement it may be said (1) that n. b at least seems misplaced in the manuscript as it stands, since it bears on the a priori arguments more than it does on the a posteriori argument, (2) that notes b, c, and d make a good deal of sense if they are read as forming one continuous discussion, and (3) that this arrangement makes more intelligible the account of the chapter given in the Outline, which mentions this argument, but not the others. Like Freudenthal, Meijer thought the author of the Outline may have had access to a better manuscript than we have.

Gebhardt rejected Meijer’s arrangement on the ground that the second note presupposes the a posteriori arguments and must follow it. But though the second note does refer to the a posteriori argument, it is independent of it. And the question whether my idea of God is something I have feigned or invented arises just as crucially in the ontological argument as it does in the a posteriori argument. (Cf. AT VII, 64, 115-120.)

I suspect that these notes represent material that would have been incorporated in the text in connection with the a priori arguments (or possibly replacing them) in a subsequent revision.

4 The text of the paragraph just ended looks defective as it stands in the manuscript, though Mignini thinks it can be defended. Gebhardt has a long discussion of various proposed emendations. The bracketed additions reflect my acceptance of suggestions made by Appuhn and Freudenthal.

[I/16] c Furthermore, it is also false to say that this idea is a fiction, for it is impossible to have it unless [its object] exists. This is shown below,5 to which we add the following:

[35] It is indeed true that when an Idea has first come to us from the thing itself, and we [I/17] have made it universal by abstraction, our mind6 can also then feign many particular things of this Idea, to which we can also ascribe many other properties abstracted from [5] other things. But it is impossible to do this unless we first know the thing itself of which they are abstractions.

But if it is once granted that this Idea is a fiction, then all the other Ideasd we have [10] must no less be fictions. If this is so, how is it that we find so great a difference between them? For we find some whose existence is impossible, such as all the monstrous animals one composes of two natures, like a beast that would be both bird and horse, and other things of that kind. It is impossible for them to have a place in Nature, which we find to be differently constituted.

[15] d That other Ideas exist is, indeed, possible, but not necessary. But whether they exist or not, their essence is always necessary like the Idea of a triangle, or that of the soul’s love without the body,7 etc., so that even if I thought at first that I had feigned them, afterwards I would still be forced to say that they are and would be no less the same, even if neither I nor any other man had ever thought of them. That is why they [20] are not feigned by me, and also must have a subject outside me, which is not me, a subject without which they cannot be.

In addition to these, there is still a third idea, which is unique. This brings with it a necessary being, and not, like the preceding ones, only the possibility of existence. For though the essence of the others is indeed necessary, their existence is not. But of this both the existence and the essence are necessary, and without its existence, its essence is not.8

[25] So I see now that the truth, essence or existence of any thing does not depend on me. For as has been shown in connection with the second kind of Ideas, they are what they are without me, whether according to their essence alone or according to their essence and existence together. I find this to be true also—indeed much more so—of this third, unique idea: not only does it not depend on me, but on the contrary he alone [30] must be the subject of what I affirm of him, so that if he did not exist, I would not be able to affirm anything at all of him, though I can do this of other things, even if they do not exist. [I find] also that he must be the subject of all other things.

From what has now been said, it is clear that the Idea of infinite attributes in the [35] perfect being is no fiction. But we shall still add the following: After the preceding reflections on Nature we have not yet been able to find in it more than two attributes that belong to this all-perfect being. And these give us nothing by which we can satisfy ourselves that these would be the only ones of which this perfect being would consist. [40] On the contrary, we find in ourselves something which openly indicates to us not only that there are more, but also that there are infinite perfect attributes which must pertain to this perfect being before it can be called perfect.

5 Gebhardt takes the reference to be to sections 5-8.

6 Ms: verstand. But I doubt that this can represent intellectus here.

7 Appuhn sees in this an allusion to the purely intellectual love described in Descartes’ letter to Chanut, 1 Feb. 1647.

8 The Dutch here is too compressed to be readily intelligible. I follow Gebhardt’s conjecture as to its meaning.

And where does this Idea of perfection come from? It cannot come from these two, for two gives only two, not infinitely many. From where, then? Certainly not from me, [45] for then I would have had to be able to give what I did not have. From where else, then, than from the infinite attributes themselves, which tell us that they are, though they so far do not tell us what they are. For only of two do we know what they are.

[I/18] e His ‘attributes’: it is better [to say] “because he understands what is proper to God,” [30] because those things are not God’s attributes. God is, indeed, not God without them, but he is not God through them, because they indicate nothing substantive, but are only like Adjectives, which require Substantives in order to be explained. [Gebhardt brackets this note because he suspects it of being an interpolation.]

f The cause of these changes would have to be either outside it or in it. Not outside [35] it, for no substance which, like this one, is in itself depends on anything outside it; so it can undergo no change from outside. Also not in it, for no thing, much less this one, wills its own destruction. All destruction comes from something outside. [Gebhardt brackets this note as doubtful, on the ground that it merely restates more clearly what is said in the text.]

9 Wolf finds the clause I have placed in parentheses “both irrelevant and inaccurate,” and suspects it of being a reader’s interpolation. But he also makes a plausible suggestion as to what may be intended, viz. that nothing could contain more reality formally than is contained objectively in the idea of God. Gebhardt takes the clause in this sense, and conjectures a mistranslation of the Latin.

[I/19]

[10] a The reason for this is that since Nothing can have no attributes, the All must have all attributes; and just as Nothing has no attributes because it is nothing, Something has attributes because it is something. So the more it is Something, the more attributes [15] it must have. Consequently, God, being most perfect, infinite, and the Something-that-is-all, must also have infinite, perfect, and all attributes.

10 The interpretation of this passage has been disputed. Wolf, Sigwart, and Appuhn took the phrase here translated “in this way” to be a reference to the a posteriori way, and the passage to defend Spinoza’s preference for a priori proofs over a posteriori ones. Meijer, Dunin-Borkowski, and Gebhardt (rightly, I think) take the phrase to refer to the a priori way, and the passage to expound an objection Spinoza is about to reply to. Mignini objects that this cannot be done without emending I/47/16, a step Gebhardt was unwilling to take. Mignini prefers to insert a “not” in l. 20, reading: “For the things one does not prove in this way.…” But his interpretation assumes that an a posteriori proof is a proof through external causes. That is hard to reconcile with Spinoza’s usual (e.g., in KV I, i, 3; E IP10S; but see KV II, xxiv, 12) contention that God’s existence can be proven a posteriori. The a posteriori proof Spinoza has offered in this chapter would be a posteriori in the sense common in the seventeenth century (cf. the Glossary on “a priori”), but not in Mignini’s sense. I think we must recognize that I/47/16 is a corrupt text, even if we have no straightforward emendation to suggest for it.

11 The reference is apparently to Summa theologiae Ia,2,2. The annotation in Aquinas 1, 2:10-11, is helpful.

1 Meijer thought it contrary to seventeenth-century ways of thinking to prove God’s existence before investigating his nature, citing Descartes’ First Replies: “According to the laws of the true logic, one must never ask of a thing whether it exists unless one first knows what it is.” (AT VII, 107-108). On this ground he thought the first two chapters “in this form” could not have come from Spinoza. But even Descartes did not consistently follow the ‘laws of the true logic’ Both in the analytic Meditations and in the synthetic Principles the question of my existence is raised before the question of my nature.

b If we can prove that there can be no limited substance, then every substance belonging to the divine being must be unlimited.2 We do this as follows:

[20] 1. Either it must have limited itself, or another must have limited it. It did not limit itself, for being unlimited, it would have had to change its whole essence. It is also not limited by another, for that other would have to be either limited or unlimited. Not the former; therefore, the latter. So the other is God. God, then, would have to have limited [25] it either because he lacked the power, or because he lacked the will. But the first is contrary to his omnipotence, and the second is contrary to his goodness.

2. That there cannot be a limited substance is [also] clear from this, that such a substance would necessarily have to have something which it had from Nothing. But this is impossible. For from where does it have that in which it differs from God? [30] Never from God, for God has nothing imperfect or limited, etc. So from where, if not from Nothing? Therefore, there is no substance except an unlimited one.

From this it follows that there are not two equal unlimited substances.3 For if there were, there would necessarily be a limitation.

And from this it follows in turn that one substance cannot produce another. As [35] follows: the cause which would produce this substance must have the same attribute as the one produced, and also, either as much perfection, or more, or less. Not the first, for then there would be two equal substances. Not the second, for then there would be a limited substance. Not the third, for Something does not come from Nothing.

An alternative proof: if a limited substance came from an unlimited one, then the [40] unlimited one would also be limited, etc. Therefore, one substance cannot produce another.

And from this it follows in turn that every substance must exist formally. For if it does not exist, there is no possibility of its being able to come to be.

2 Even in the Ethics, after he has proven that there is only one substance, Spinoza will still speak of the attributes as substances constituting the divine nature. Cf. II/57/13-14, 22-23.

3 Gueroult (1, 1:474-475) protests against the translation of gelijk by “like.” The practice of the translators of the Ethics seems to be against Gueroult’s claims about seventeenth-century Dutch usage (since gelijk is used for both aequus and similis), but I agree that the context here requires “equal.”

4 Bepaalde zelfstandigheid. Wolf has finite substance (similarly, Appuhn, Pléiade, Gueroult). Certainly this is correct in spirit (cf. I/26/5-6). But if the Latin were finita, we would expect eindig.

[I/20] c To say here that the nature of the thing required this [limitation], and therefore it [25] could not be otherwise, is to say nothing.5 For the nature of the thing cannot require anything unless it exists. If you say that one can nevertheless see what belongs to the nature of a thing that does not exist, that is true as regards existence, but not at all as regards essence.

In this lies the difference between creating and generating: creating, then, is bringing a thing about as regards essence and existence together; but in generating a thing comes about [30] as regards existence only.6 Therefore, there is no creating in Nature, but only generating.

So if God creates, he creates the nature of the thing together with the thing. And so he would be envious if (being able but not willing) he had created the thing in such a way that it would not agree with its cause in essence and existence.

[35] But what we here call creating cannot really be said to have ever happened, and we mention it only to show what we can say about it, once we make the distinction between creating and generating.

5 Possibly Spinoza has in mind Descartes’ Fourth Meditation (AT VII, 60), but the line of thought does not begin with Descartes. Cf. Summa theologiae Ia, 25,6.

6 Cf. Summa theologiae Ia,45,1.

7 On this theme, see Lovejoy.

8 So the manuscript reads. The inclination to emend to substance persists (Meijer, Appuhn, Pléiade), but I agree with Gebhardt and Mignini that the text is defensible.

9 The text here is in doubt and has frequently been suspected of being a reader’s interpolation. Wolf offers: “… there would be more infinite substances not in existence than there are in existence …,” but finds neither that nor the version I prefer very intelligible. Gebhardt explains that the absurdity claimed consists in this: that on the hypothesis some substances would be merely possible, not actual, whereas existence belongs to the essence of substance. One difficulty with Gebhardt’s explanation is that it is not easy to see the relevance of there being more nonexistent substances than existent ones.

10 The series of objections and replies which occupies sections 13-16 has often been thought to be a later addition. As for their content, cf. E IP17C2S.

[I/22] d That is: when we make them argue from their belief that God is omniscient, then [35] they cannot argue otherwise. [Gebhardt brackets this note as certainly not from Spinoza, on the ground that it only repeats what is said in the text.]

[I/23] e I.e., if there were different substances which were not related to one single being, [35] then their union would be impossible, because we see clearly that they have absolutely nothing in common with one another—like thought and extension, of which we nevertheless consist.

[I/24] f I.e., if no substance can be other than real, and nevertheless no existence follows from its essence if it is conceived separately, it follows that it is not something singular, [25] but must be something that is an attribute of another, viz. the one, unique, universal being.

Or thus: every substance is real, and the existence of a substance, conceived in itself, does not follow from its essence. So no real substance can be conceived in itself; instead [30] it must belong to something else. I.e., when our intellect understands substantial thought and extension, we understand them only in their essence, and not in their existence, i.e. [we do not understand] that their existence necessarily belongs to their essence. But when we prove that they are attributes of God, we thereby prove a priori that they exist, and a posteriori (in relation to extension alone) [that it exists] from the modes that [35] must have it as their subject.

11 Wolf remarks that this is not shown in the Treatise as we have it, and infers that something is missing. Dunin-Borkowski points out that the reference might be to I/19/33-43. Gebhardt, who regards that note as a later addition, suggests instead I/21/26-32. More plausibly, the reference may be to I/22/5-9.

12 Probably we should read: “to whose essence existence belongs.” Unless we assume a copyist’s error, the conclusion seems redundant, and the similarity of Wezenheid and Wezenlijkheid makes such an error only too easy.

[I/25] g In Nature, i.e., in substantial extension. For if this were divided, its nature and [20] being would be destroyed at once, since it consists only in infinite extension, or what is the same, being a whole. But, you will say, is there no part in extension prior to all its modes? None, I reply.

But, you say, if there is motion in matter, it must be in a part of matter, not in the [25] whole, since the whole is infinite. For in what direction would it be moved, since there is nothing outside it? Then in a part.

I reply: there is no motion by itself, but only motion and rest together; and this is, and must be, in the whole; for there is no part in extension.

If you still say that there are parts in extension, then I ask: when you divide the [30] whole extension, can you also, according to the nature of all parts, cut off from the others the part you cut off with your intellect? Assuming that you can, I ask what there is between the part cut off and the rest?

You must say: either a vacuum, or another body, or something of extension itself. There is no fourth alternative. Not the first, for there is no vacuum, something positive, [35] but not a body. Not the second, for then there would be modes where there can be none, since extension as extension is without and prior to all modes. The third then. And so there is no part, but only extension as a whole.

13 Cf. Descartes, Les méteores, chap. 1, AT VI, 233.

14 The ms. reads Modes. I follow Mignini, who prefers Monnikhoff’s emendation.

15 In the Treatise as we have it, this has not been said already, though it will be said in the First Dialogue. This has prompted the conjecture that the dialogue was originally placed earlier.

1 Avenarius (1) argued that this dialogue antedated the rest of the Short Treatise and represented a very early stage of Spinoza’s thought in which he was primarily under the influence of Bruno. (Sigwart 1 and 2 give a number of parallel passages in Bruno, but they are not restricted to this dialogue.) The present consensus (following Freudenthal) seems to be that both dialogues are later than the main body of the work, whose doctrines they presuppose.

2 Verstand. None of the Latin terms which verstand usually translates seem quite right, since in the dialogue it is contrasted with reason in the way intuitive knowledge typically is.

3 Begeerlijkheid. A term not used elsewhere in contemporary Dutch translations of Spinoza. Meijer warns against confusing it with begeerte and suggests the Dutch term lust, or “love in the lower sense,” as a gloss.

4 The manuscript here is extremely confused, with marginal insertions whose authority and proper placement are unclear. I have followed a suggestion of Freudenthal’s. Gebhardt favors an emendation which would be translated: “For if we want to limit Nature we will have to limit it, absurdly, with a Nothing, conceived as having the following attributes: it is one, eternal, existing through itself, infinite. We avoid this absurdity by maintaining that it—that is, infinite Nature and everything contained in it—is an eternal unity, infinite, omnipotent, etc.” Gebhardt regards as decisive a passage in the Metaphysical Thoughts (I/268/22-24) which condemns believers in a creation ex nihilo for imagining nothing as something real.

5 Freudenthal, followed by Wolf and Appuhn, introduced a negation here: “The one does not limit the other.” Certainly it is good Spinozistic doctrine that a thing can only be limited by another of the same kind (cf. E ID2, Epp.3,4). Gebhardt argues that there is no reason to credit Lust with this Spinozistic view, and Mignini seems to agree. But I take it that the first thing Lust claims to see here (that intellectual substance and extended substance have nothing in common) is also good Spinozistic doctrine (cf. E IP2). Since Lust seems to be trying to deduce unwelcome conclusions from Spinozistic assumptions, I find the emendation plausible.

6 Some have wanted to reject this sentence as an interpolation. Gebhardt defends it.

7 Because Reason makes no reply to the objections of sections 6 and 7, Freudenthal and Wolf thought them an interpolation. Gebhardt argues that since the dialogues are only supplementary to the main text, Spinoza may have considered what is said elsewhere (presumably at I/22/14ff.) a sufficient refutation. But even so, it is puzzling that the objections should be included without any indication of their having been answered elsewhere. Possibly something is lost or misplaced.

8 The Pléiade editors (Pléiade, 1368) call attention to the oddity of this expression and conjecture a mistranslation from the Latin original or a copyist’s omission.

9 Here (with Gebhardt, Wolf et al.) I follow Monnikhoff rather than the manuscript, in which the parenthesis would read: “insofar as, or in the respect that, it depends on its concepts.” Mignini defends this more difficult reading by arguing that as the intellect is the cause of its concepts (cf. I, ii, 24) so the concepts must be considered a cause of the intellect, insofar as they constitute it (appealing to II, xv, 5). Perhaps so, but in that case Spinoza offers no reason in this passage for calling the intellect a cause.

1 This has not yet been said, but (assuming that verder here and laatste there both represent remota) will be said at I/36/18-19. This is one thing which gives plausibility to Meijer’s proposal to place the Second Dialogue after Chapter III. Against that separation from the First Dialogue is the apparent continuity between them. Moreover, many subsequent references are to passages coming much later than Chapter III. The bracketed addition follows a suggestion made by Van Vloten and Land, and persuasively defended by Mignini.

2 My italics. Gebhardt correctly has verder in ll. 8, 10, and 14, but wrongly emends to eerder in l. 16. That makes the qualification pointless. Note that Francès, who accepts Gebhardt’s emendation, omits the qualification both here and in the passage to which Spinoza is apparently referring. The variations in Dutch wording (verder for laatste, in eenigen manieren for eenigzins) seem to confirm the hypothesis that the Second Dialogue was translated by a different hand than the bulk of the Short Treatise. Cf. Curley 1, 333-334. Mignini also reads verder in l.16.

3 Cf. I/110/32-111/2, and I/30/30-31. The fact that Spinoza also maintains that whole and part are beings of reason and do not exist in Nature (e.g., at I/24/19ff) has caused some perplexity. Freudenthal 2, 7-9, suggested that the latter doctrine was not meant to entail that the concepts were entirely without foundation in reality, that in saying that finite things formed a whole with God, Spinoza meant to express their dependence on him as immanent cause.

4 Gebhardt retains this sentence in the text, as a third example, though others (Van Vloten and Land, Appuhn) have thought it an interpolation. Here I think Gebhardt is wrong; the rest of section 7 seems to continue the second example.

5 The reference is apparently to I/46/34ff.

6 Busse wanted to take this section away from Theophilus and put in in the mouth of Erasmus, as an objection Spinoza’s spokesman must answer (placing it earlier). His ground was the apparent contradiction between saying that God and his effects form a whole and that the whole is only a being of reason, which does not exist in reality. Freudenthal pointed out other places where the two halves of this contradiction are asserted, so it cannot be removed so easily. Cf. I/31/20.

7 At I/110/22-27.

8 Possibly I/31/10-14 rather than I/35/29-I/36/3. This distinction will recur in an important and difficult passage in the Ethics, II/70/2-15. For discussion of some of the issues involved see Curley (1) and (3), chap. 2.

9 At I/111/12-20. It is interesting to see that the immortality of the intellect is recognized as problematic in Spinoza’s philosophy from the very beginning. But it is seen as raising problems relating to God’s causality, not the parallelism of the attributes.

10 Appuhn offers the following gloss: “The existence of the body is not the determining cause of the idea of God, but a condition which must be satisfied for this idea, existing from all eternity in the intellect, to become conscious of itself.”

11 Cf. I/101/3ff.

[30] a The following are called Propria because they are nothing but Adjectives which cannot be understood without their Substantives. I.e., without them God would indeed not [I/35] be God; but still, he is not God through them, for they do not make known anything substantial, and it is only through what is substantial that God exists.

1 The manuscript has no title at this point. Gebhardt supplies “Of God’s Immanent Actions” from the running heads of subsequent pages of the manuscript. Mignini argues persuasively that these are without authority and supplies “That God is a Cause of All Things” from the Table of Contents, on the assumption that that represents the original title. I have been guided by the second sentence, which seems to describe more accurately the actual contents of the chapter.

2 This division of causes is to be found in Burgersdijk’s Logic and, with a slight variation in the order, in Heereboord’s Meletemata. On these philosophers and their relation to Spinoza see the Editorial Preface to Descartes’ Principles. For comment on Burgersdijk’s classification of causes, see Wolf 2, 190-195; Wolfson 1, 1:303-304; and Gueroult 1, 1:224-257.

3 The reference is to Exodus 14:21, an example which will recur in the Metaphysical Thoughts (I/265/14) and the Theological-Political Treatise (III/90/20ff).

1 Heil. Wolf: “welfare.” See the glossary entry on salvation. Translating in this fashion involves taking sides in the dispute between Kneale and Donagan as to whether Spinoza is committed to the ‘hideous hypothesis’ of universal salvation. Cf. Grene, 239-240, 257-258.

2 Wolf 2, 195, cites, as characteristic scholastic definitions, passages from Burgersdijk and Heereboord. But Aquinas’ position (Aquinas 1, 5:44-46) seems to be more complex, as is Descartes’ (AT VII, 57).

3 This doctrine is characteristic of the reformers (v. Luther 1, 209; Calvin 1, 949) but in the seventeenth century was associated also with Descartes (because of the doctrine of the creation of the eternal truths) and Hobbes (v. Hobbes 1, LW III, 256). Cf. II/76/8ff.

4 This passage has been much emended. I follow (partly) suggestions made by Wolf and Gebhardt. Mignini defends the manuscript reading, by reasoning I am unable to follow.

5 Gebhardt thought the sentences bracketed here, and below (11. 28-29), were misplaced, marginal notes that had crept into the text. Though they do seem to interrupt the train of thought, Mignini retains them without comment.

1 The Pléiade editors (Pléiade, 1372) observe that Spinoza’s procedure in this chapter is characteristic: he takes a popular term and gives it an entirely new sense derived from his system. For a more traditional approach, cf. Calvin 1, I, xvi. Note that in this, its first appearance in Spinoza’s writings, the striving is not merely a conservative tendency, but a progressive one.

1 The Pléiade editors (Pléiade, 1373) point out that throughout almost the whole of the seventeenth century the topic of predestination was the subject of fierce struggles between the various Dutch Protestant sects. In accepting a strict doctrine of predestination Spinoza would tend to alienate the liberal (Mennonite and Collegiant) groups from which most of his Christian friends came. But in giving the doctrine a wholly philosophic turn he would offend the Dutch national Church.

Whether the editors are equally correct in ascribing to the reading of Calvin a decisive influence on the young Spinoza is another matter. Not only are central notions reinterpreted, but the style of argument is quite different. Cf. Calvin 1, III, xxi, 2: “To seek any other knowledge of predestination than what the Word of God discloses is not less insane than if one should purpose to walk in a pathless waste.”

2 Aristotle’s followers clearly do not include Aquinas (cf. Summa theologiae I, 22, 2) and apparently not Maimonides (Maimonides 1, 286). Appuhn ascribes the position here attacked to Averroes.

3 Cf. I/262/30.

4 Adopting a suggestion of Wolfs, which Gebhardt does not consider. Wolf also points out that the example is Cartesian (cf. Meditation Six, AT VII, 84).

[I/44] a Regarding the attributes of which God consists, they are nothing but infinite substances, each of which must, of itself, be infinitely perfect. Clear and distinct reason [25] convinces us that this must, necessarily, be so. So far,1 however, only two of all these infinite attributes are known to us through their essence: Thought and Extension. All other things commonly ascribed to God are not attributes, but only certain modes, [30] which may be attributed to him either in consideration of everything (i.e., all his attributes) or in consideration of One attribute. For example, that God is one, eternal, existing through himself, infinite, the cause of everything, immutable—these things are attributed to God in consideration of all his attributes. That God is omniscient and wise, etc., are attributed to him in consideration of the attribute of thought. And that he is omnipresent and fills all, etc., are attributed to him in consideration of the attribute of extension.

1 This is one of two passages in which Spinoza implies that the unknown attributes are not unknowable. Cf. I/17/36-47.

2 There does appear to be some confusion in the manuscript, since chapters III-IV have already discussed God’s ‘attributes.’ Cf. I/27/11ff., and Freudenthal 2, 258-259. Mignini, however, defends the manuscript and also rejects Gebhardt’s emendation of 1. 6. About the latter, at least, i.e., the substitution of beschrijven for bewijzen, I believe Gebhardt must be right.

3 Cf. Summa theologiae I, 3, 5. The view was a common one among scholastics and Spinoza’s source is likely to have been Heereboord 1, 1:147.

4 Cf. Maimonides 1, 81-83, with Summa theologiae I, 13, 12.

b I.e., in consideration of all that he is, or all his attributes. On this, see the note to [I/44/3]. [Gebhardt rejects this note as meaningless. Mignini defends it as an accurate explication of the text.]

5 Cf. I/18/17ff. It is not clear, however, that St. Thomas would accept Spinoza’s identification of proof through effects with probable argument. Cf. Summa theologiae I, 2, 2, ad 3.

6 Cf. Hobbes, De Corpore, VI, 13.

7 Cf. AT VII, 368.

8 In this sentence the copyist first wrote “a priori,” but immediately crossed it out and wrote “a posteriori.” The question is whether he was correcting a mistake he himself had made in copying or attempting a textual emendation. The reading the copyist preferred is certainly an easier one, but I find it suspiciously so. The first sentence refers us to a prior reply to the objection that God’s existence cannot be proven a priori. Probably the reference is to I, i, 10. Just possibly it is to I, vii, 5. In both passages, however, the objection assumes the usual seventeenth-century concept of an a priori proof, that it proceeds from cause to effect. (Though the text of I, i, 10 is disputed, 11. 25-28 are not.) If the objector also assumed that cause and effect are always distinct, he might take Spinoza to be implying that God has an external cause. And Spinoza might well reply that, although an a priori proof usually (I/47/16) proceeds from an external cause, it does not always do so, viz. not when the entity is causa sui. I assume that some such dialectic lies behind both I, i, 10, and I, vii, 12. But if so, then the text of I, vii, 12 is defective in a way that cannot be repaired simply by substituting “a priori” for “a posteriori.”

[I/48] a Note: What is said here of Motion in matter is not said seriously. For the Author [30] still intends to discover its cause, as he has already done, to some extent, a posteriori. But it can stand as it is here, because nothing is built on it, or depends on it. [The style and content of this note suggest that, while probably not written by Spinoza himself, it probably was written in his lifetime, by someone privy to his plans. It is unclear what portion of the text Spinoza intends to disavow, possibly the use of the language of creation. Gebhardt regards this note as evidence that the manuscript originated in a dictation, and points out that the problem here mentioned concerned Spinoza to the end of his life. Cf. Letters 82 and 83.]

1 Gueroult points out (1, 1:564-568) that although the use of the phrase Natura naturans to designate God was current among seventeenth-century Scholastics, there is reason to dissociate Thomas himself from this usage.

1 The Pléiade editors (Pléiade, 1375) observe that the use of traditional religious language here is neither a mark of Christian influence, nor a concession to the sensibilities of his audience, but a desacralization of an important theological concept. Cf. I/117-18.

1 Gebhardt brackets this concluding section as doubtful. This represents the consensus among students of the Short Treatise who have considered the question (e.g., Sigwart, Freudenthal, Wolf). But their main reason for bracketing seems to be that nothing like this argument is found elsewhere in Spinoza. Whether that is true or not, it seems an insufficient reason for rejecting the authenticity of the passage. Mignini cites various passages supporting the authenticity of the assumption that all things (dingen) existing in Nature are either things (zaaken) or actions, e.g., I/43/35, II/24/28, IV/311/16-17.

1 The reference is evidently to I/19/7ff.

2 Gelijk met. Here Wolf’s “like” seems more natural, though sense can be given to “equal to,” e.g., “has as much reality as.” Cf. above, note to I/19/32.

3 What follows is generally printed as a note to the first sentence of section 2 of this Preface, but no one has really thought that placement correct; the manuscript does not give any indication of where the “note” should go. Freudenthal suggested that it was probably intended to replace or supplement a passage originally appearing at the beginning of Chapter I, where there seems to be a gap in the manuscript.

If it is placed between the main content of the Preface and the main content of Chapter I, we do get an order approximating that of Part II of the Ethics. Sections 1 to 3 of the Preface to Part II of the Short Treatise would correspond to the Preface of Part II of the Ethics, P10, P10S, and P10C; sections 4 and 5, to P10CS; the ‘note’ (or at least its first thirteen paragraphs) would correspond to the section beginning with IIP11 and ending with P16C1 (though paragraphs 3 and 4 go back to IIP1 and P3); and Chapter I would correspond to the presentation in the Ethics of the three kinds of knowledge, beginning with IIP17 and ending with P47S.

a The modes of which man consists are perceptions, divided into opinion, true belief, and clear and distinct knowledge, produced by objects, each according to its own kind. [Gebhardt relegates this and the other five ms. notes in this chapter to his textual commentary, on the ground that they are clearly a reader’s comments. This second part of the work contains a great many notes of this kind: appearing in the margin of the ms., summarizing the content of the paragraph next to which it stands, and typically not being keyed to any word or phrase in the paragraph. Generally they read like a student’s notes and Gebhardt’s policy is to mention them only in his textual commentary. Mignini reproduces all of them in the margins of his text. I reproduce in bracketed footnotes all those which I think might illuminate the text in any way.]

4 Wolf thought this final section of the note both inaccurate and inessential, and doubted whether it came from Spinoza. Gebhardt saw nothing against its authenticity. I find it no more problematic than any of Spinoza’s other pronouncements on the eternity of the mind.

b The perceptions of this ‘belief’ are put first at [I/55/18]; also it is here and there called opinion, which it also is. [This seems to be a reader’s attempt to clarify a distinction blurred by the translation. According to a conjecture by Sigwart, now generally accepted, the translator used geloof for opinio at I/54/10, decided later that it was required for fides, and adopted waan for opinio, without making the change consistently. I mark nonstandard uses of geloof by putting single quotes around belief.]

c [This one only opines, or is commonly said, ‘believes’ only from report.]

1 The manuscript has begrippen, which I think must here correspond to perceptiones rather than ideas or conceptus or conceptiones. Cf. II/10/3 and II/122/2ff. Though this may be the earliest of Spinoza’s various divisions of knowledge, the initial division is like that of the Ethics (and unlike that of the Treatise on the Intellect) in recognizing three main species of knowledge, with a subdivision of the first, rather than four species of knowledge. As Freudenthal pointed out, there is, in the Short Treatise as a whole, a good deal of variation in Spinoza’s treatment of the division. For example, in II, iii, 4, the threefold division is into knowledge from report, from opinion, and from true perception. More important, it is unclear whether true belief ( = belief in II, ii, 1 = reason in II, xiv, 2 and E IIP40S2) can lead us to the knowledge and love of God which constitute our highest happiness or whether only science ( = clear and distinct conception = clear knowledge in II, ii, 1 = intuitive science in E II P40S2) can have this effect. Contrast II, iv, 3; II, v, 7; and II, xviii with II, xiv, 2; II, xix, 2; II, xxii, 1; II, iv, 2; II, xxvi, 6.

2 I have translated the ms. reading of this sentence, which is retained by Mignini. But many scholars have felt that it required emendation and have conjectured mistranslations of the original Latin. Here are the main alternatives: “viz. from certain ideas, or from the knowledge of ourselves, and then let us treat of things outside us” (Freudenthal); “viz. from certain ideas or from the knowledge of ourselves, or consciousness, and of things outside us” (Appuhn); “viz. certain perceptions of those things which are outside us and the knowledge of ourselves, or consciousness” (Gebhardt).

The ellipsis space marks the place where Gebhardt (following Freudenthal) believes the note from the Preface should come. See I/51/16ff.

d [This one opines or ‘believes’ not only through hearsay, but through experience. These are two kinds of opining.]

e [This one is certain through true belief, which can never deceive him. He is properly called a believer.]

f [But this last one never opines or believes, but sees the thing itself, not through something else, but in itself.]

a See the definition of belief, p. 2; and where the affirmation, taken for the will, is distinguished from belief, p. 2. [A marginal note. The first page reference would presumably be to I/59/23-36; the second, to I/80/24-34.]

3 The manuscript reads: “the proportionality and all the calculations.” Modern editors follow Monnikhoff, as I have. But even with that emendation, the expression does not seem very exact. The thought, presumably, is: “he immediately sees the proportionality of the numbers in [all those?] problems which others solve by calculation.” Cf. II/12/11-14.

1 Freudenthal 2, 262, thought it incredible that, having explained his view clearly and distinctly in II, i, Spinoza should have repeated it in a modified and less clear manner here.

2 As Sigwart pointed out, this seems to be aimed explicitly at Descartes, PA I, 27, where motions of the animal spirits are made the cause of the passions. Appuhn calls attention to E IIA3 as a parallel passage, but questions whether passion is not too narrow a term to use for lijding here. Lijding may translate passio in section 3, but perhaps renders affectus in section 4. See the Glossary-Index on passion.

1 Wolf has “from a few particulars” here, but I take it that what is in question is any inference from some to all. (One might see a great many sheep before seeing one with a long tail.)

[I/56] a This does not mean that a formal inference must always precede wonder; it also occurs without that, as when we tacitly presume that the thing is so, and not different [25] from the way we are used to seeing, hearing or understanding it.

For example, when Aristotle says that the dog is a barking animal, he concludes therefore that whatever barks is a dog. But when a peasant says a dog, he tacitly understands just the same thing Aristotle does with his definition. So when the peasant hears barking, [30] he says a dog. Hence, if they once heard another animal barking, the peasant, who had drawn no conclusion, would be as astonished as Aristotle, who had drawn a conclusion.

[I/56] Again, when we come to perceive something of which we have never thought before, it is still not as though we had never known anything like it before, as a whole or in [35] part; it is only that it was not so constituted in every respect, or that we have never been affected by it in this way, etc.

b That Love comes from opinion, clear knowledge, and report. This is the foundation of all good and evil. See p._____, chap. 14. [A marginal note relegated to the textual commentary by Gebhardt and probably stemming from a reader, but interesting nonetheless for the forward reference to I/77/24.]

2 Many scholars have found the order of this and the next three paragraphs illogical and have preferred the arrangement in Monnikhoff, who gives us first the discussion of love arising from report (§ 7), then the discussion of love arising from opinion (§ 5), and finally the passing over of love arising from true perceptions (§ 6), with appropriate rewriting of § 4 (but also omitting the third sentence of § 4). Gebhardt retains the order of the manuscript, though he finds it confused. Mignini finds the order of the manuscript defensible.

3 According to Wolf, this doctrine would be rejected in E IIIP9S. Not so, however, according to Gueroult 2, 2:492-495.

c Love that comes from true perceptions or clear knowledge is not treated here because it does not come from opinion. But see ch. XXII. [Gebhardt rejects this marginal note.]

[I/58] d The first definition is the best, for when the thing is enjoyed, the desire ceases; so the inclination which we then have to retain that thing is not desire but fear of losing [35] the thing we love. [Gebhardt brackets this note as a critical, but imperceptive, reader’s interpolation. Mignini defends it as thoroughly Spinozistic, but the passages he cites (most notably, I/84/22) do not seem very satisfactory.]

e It comes also from experience, according to the second definition, which does not please me. [A marginal note, relegated by Gebhardt to his textual commentary but regarded by Mignini as Spinoza’s. See Mignini 3,270-271.]

[I/59] a Belief is a strong proof based on reasons, by which I am convinced in my intellect [25] that the thing truly is, outside my intellect, such as I am convinced in my intellect that it is.

I say a strong proof based on reasons, to distinguish it thereby both from opinion, which is always doubtful and subject to error, and from science, which does not consist in conviction based on reasons, but in an immediate union with the thing itself.

[30] I say that the thing truly is such, outside my intellect; truly, because the reasons can not deceive me in this, otherwise they would not differ from opinion; such, because it can only indicate to me what it belongs to the thing to be, not what it truly is, otherwise it would not differ from science; outside, because it makes us enjoy intellectually, not what is in us, but what is outside us. [Gebhardt brackets this note, on the ground (dubious in this instance) that it adds nothing really new to what is said in the text. Joel had pointed out parallel passages in Crescas’ The Light of the Lord, II, v, 5.]

4 Freudenthal observed (2, 262) that after Chapter III and the early sections of Chapter IV, we would expect it to be proven that the ethically superior affects arise from the higher kinds of knowledge. Instead they are distinguished more by the objects which produce them than by the kind of knowledge they originate from (II, iv, 10; II, v). Instead of showing how these affects arise from these kinds of knowledge, Spinoza enumerates their effects and reviews the whole series of Descartes’ Passions of the Soul. Affects already discussed—wonder, love, hate, and desire—are once again discussed, as if this had not been done. Freudenthal plausibly infers that we have here two presentations of a moral psychology, stemming from different times and juxtaposed by an unknown editor. This is confirmed by the difficulties mentioned above (II, i, 1, n. 1).

1 The addition to the title is supplied from the table of chapters.

b On the fourth effect of true belief see p.____ It shows us what truth and falsity consist in. [A marginal note, probably stemming from a reader. The forward reference would be to I/78/16.]

c For one cannot have an idea that is perfect from any particular creature; for the very perfection of this Idea, [i.e., the judgment by which one decides] whether it is perfect or not, must be deduced from a perfect universal Idea, or Being of Reason. [Gebhardt brackets this note as doubtful, on the ground that it merely repeats what is said in the text. The bracketed emendation is a suggestion of Appuhn’s.]

1 Gebhardt, following a suggestion of Meijer’s, rearranges the first five sections of this chapter so that they come in what he sees as a more logical order and make a smoother transition to section six. Mignini defends the arrangement of the ms. I have followed Gebhardt’s arrangement, but to allow readers to reconstruct easily the order of the ms. I have introduced Mignini’s paragraph numbers in italics.

a Which are incorruptible only through their cause. See p. 53f. [A marginal note, probably due to a reader. The reference is to a ms. page number corresponding to I/47f.]

2 Though this is similar to the Cartesian formula rejected in the Ethics (II/192/22ff.), the conception is still not Cartesian, since the Love defined in PA II, 79, is a passion caused by motion of the animal spirits. Appuhn’s interpretation of the religious significance of this transitional conception of love deserves consideration. Cf. Appuhn 1, 1:408-409.

3 The ms. has de Liefde (the love), which Mignini, like most scholars, emends to de lievende. Gebhardt defended the text with an appeal to passages in Leone Ebreo’s Dialoghi de amore where the love, the lover, and the loved are all identified. Spinoza possessed a copy of this work in a Spanish translation, and Gebhardt devoted a long article to his relation to Spinoza (Gebhardt (2)). Wolfson thought his influence on Spinoza had been exaggerated (Wolfson (1), II, 277). See also Bidney (1), 178, 180. I follow Mignini.

4 The very negative evaluation of honor (eer = honor? or gloria?) implied here seems to mark this passage as belonging to a different stratum than II, xii. Cf. Spinoza’s account of his development in the Treatise on the Intellect, §§ 1-11.

b What we understand by things which are outside our power or do not depend on us. P. 80. So we must also not unite with those objects which are incorruptible through their cause, which are the second kind of objects we posited. [A marginal note. The ms. page reference = I/62/19-63/1. This note seems to go beyond anything said explicitly in the text. Is it by Spinoza?]

c Because they are only modes which depend immediately on God, [we] cannot unite with them. Because we cannot know them without [knowing] God, and knowing God, would not possibly love them. For knowing God, we cannot but love him immediately. [Again a marginal note which goes beyond anything in the text. Meijer ascribed it to Spinoza, Gebhardt didn’t. I see no impossibility in Meijer’s view.]

5 Meijer, appealing to I/63/7-10, proposed emending to: “make ourselves more powerful through love.”

6 The Pléiade editors conjecture that the Latin was affectus, rather than passio, and that the Dutch translator did not respect the distinction between these two, “perhaps because the teaching of his church declared human nature to be always corrupted.”

1 This definition of hate, like the earlier definition of love, is closer to Descartes’ (PA, II, 79) than to Spinoza’s definition in the Ethics (E III Def Aff 7). In II, vi, 4, the definition will be narrowed in a way which one might have expected to find paralleled in Descartes, though it is not.

a Of Desire and Joy. What the third effect of belief will show us about them.

Each of the following is a certain species of joy: 1. Hope, though it is mingled with some sadness; 2. Confidence; 3. Laughter; 4. Honor. [A marginal note. The marginalia in this chapter seem to foreshadow the reductionist program of the Ethics.]

2 After II, v, 6, this is most surprising.

1 Three things are particularly noteworthy about this chapter: a) from the point of view of the Ethics the order of the chapters is anomalous, since love and hate, the subjects of the two preceding chapters, will in the Ethics be reduced to species of joy and sadness; b) the marginal notes attached to the first two paragraphs (relegated to the textual commentary by Gebhardt) call attention to the role joy and sadness will play in the accounts of some of the passions to be discussed in subsequent chapters; and c) the sequence of mysterious numbers in the ms. breaks off here, to resume in Chapter IX with a repetition of n. 37. According to Mignini’s hypothesis, all of these facts are connected and are a sign of the new logical order the author of the series of numbers intended to assign to the passions. See Mignini 3, 244ff. The text itself is quite vague, both about the nature of desire, joy and sadness, and about the relation of these passions to love and hate.

b These because they arise from the same cause as Love, as can be seen from pp. 70, 79. [A marginal note. The ms. page references are to KV II, iii, 4-7, and v, 1-3 (Mignini numbering).]

c Of Sadness. It arises only from opinion and it is necessary to be freed of it, because it hinders us. Each of the following is a certain species of sadness: 1. Despair; 2. Remorse and Repentance; 3. Shame; 4. Longing. [A marginal note.]

a What division the third effect of belief makes in these six, viz. [A marginal note.]

2 Waan, as it is normally used in the Short Treatise, does not seem to connote error, but to be a synonym for opinie. This context, like I/69/28, is exceptional.

1 The technical terminology in this chapter is more than usually difficult to translate with confidence, mainly because it is hard to be sure how the Dutch terms are related to their Latin analogues in Descartes’ Passions of the Soul, which was Spinoza’s model, and in the Ethics, whose analysis of the passions Spinoza has not yet achieved. See the Glossary entries on esteem, disdain, legitimate self-esteem, humility, etc.

One striking feature of Spinoza’s treatment here is the comparatively favorable evaluation of nederigheid (humility), which Appuhn took as evidence of Christian influence (Appuhn 1, 1:28). The Pléiade editors point out that in the Short Treatise humility and legitimate self-esteem are not opposites, but naturally associated with one another, as humilité and générosité are in Descartes. Moreover, though the Ethics will provide a generally negative evaluation of humilitas, Spinoza does recognize even there that it has some instrumental value (E IV P54S).

2 Wolf’s translation of this passage implies that our judgment of the thing’s perfection or imperfection is not merely accurate, but known to be so. But I take it that both legitimate self-esteem and pride are intended to be species of esteem, and both humility and self-depreciation to be species of disdain.

3 Waan. But cf. the note at I/68/6.

a What belief shows us in the following ten, viz., that they arise from the conceptions we have of a thing. [A marginal note.]

4 I take it that the qualification true here implies a correct estimate of one’s imperfections and not merely that the humility is unfeigned. So it is simply the (nonculpable) humility of § 4.

5 Wolf cites II, v, ii, with the thought, apparently, that Spinoza is implying that we should esteem God more than anything else. Other sections in that chapter (e.g., 6, 7, 10, 12) might suggest that we should esteem only God and disdain all singular things. In any case, the very cursory treatment of esteem and disdain is puzzling.

a What belief tells us about Remorse and Repentance. And what they arise from. [A marginal note.]

1 Because of a miscalculation regarding good and evil.

a What belief says that Mockery and Ridicule depend on, viz., on a false opinion, what that [false opinion] is and what it arises from. [A marginal note.]

2 Spinoza’s close contacts with members of the Collegiant sect, and some of the themes of the Short Treatise, have suggested a possible Christian influence on him at this stage of his development. But in his attitude toward repentance, he is even more critical than in the Ethics. Cf. the first Dialogue, where repentance is cited as one of the two mortal enemies of the human race (in company with hate), with E IVP54S.

1 Descartes, by contrast, had held that a moderate use of mockery could correct vices by making them appear ridiculous (PA III, 180).

a What belief shows us in these and what Love of Esteem is. [A marginal note.]

2 Cf. PA II, 124-127.

1 Wolf renders eer by “glory,” pointing out the agreement between the definition given here and the definition of gloria in E III Def. App 20. Appuhn contends that the eer of the Short Treatise does not correspond to the gloria of the Ethics because the evaluation of gloria at E IVP58 is more favorable than that of eer here. But I take it that this is a sign of a change of view about the same affect, not a sign that these are two different affects.

1 The manuscript does not indicate clearly where the division between Chapters XIII and XIV falls. Gebhardt puts the discussion of longing in Chapter XIII as the fourth section, modifies the title given to Chapter XIII in the table of contents and makes up a new title for Chapter XIV. Mignini (in company with most editors before Gebhardt) puts the discussion of longing in Chapter XIV and preserves the titles given to these chapters in the table of contents. I follow Mignini.

2 To my knowledge no one has questioned the text here. But comparison with the definitions of favor and gratitude in the Ethics (E III Def. Aff. 19, 34) or in Passions of the Soul (PA II, 192, 193) suggests that there may be some confusion. We would expect something like: “The former [i.e., favor], I say, when we desire that good be done in return to one who has done some good; the latter [gratitude], I say, when we desire that good be done to someone who has done some good we ourselves have obtained or received.”

a The last passion regarding which the third effect of belief shows us the difference between good and evil is Longing. [A marginal note.]

b And also the immortality of the soul as that will subsequently be proven on the same basis in Chapter 23. [A marginal note.]

1 This topic will come up for treatment again in Chapter XXIII, but the “perhaps” is an indication of the character of this work as not having received a final revision. There were similar instances earlier at I/43/33 and I/60/33. Cf. also Freudenthal 2, 259-260.

2 This sentence occurs as a note in the manuscript. Gebhardt rejects it. Mignini accepts it as the conclusion of the chapter. The style of the note suggests that Mignini is right.

1 Appuhn observes correctly that Spinoza here defines truth by what he will later call an extrinsic denomination, the agreement of the idea with its object (cf. E II D4). What Appuhn adds, however, seems incorrect: that Spinoza will exclude this extrinsic denomination formally from the definition of the true idea. In the passage cited Spinoza is defining adequacy, not truth. As late as Letter 60 Spinoza seems to think that a proper definition of truth is in terms of agreement. Cf. also I/246/15ff. The anomalous passage seems to be II/26/15ff.

a That it is foolishness to ask how one knows that one knows. [A marginal note.]

2 Gebhardt incorporates the bracketed phrase into the text, following the reading in Monnikhoff (and Meijer and Appuhn). Mignini rejects it as not necessary and even confusing.

3 Cf. II, xvi, 5 and the note thereto.

[I/80] a What true belief has taught us according to the third effect, and also the fourth. [A marginal note.]

b The Will, taken as the affirmation, or the decision, differs from true belief in this: [25] that it extends also to what is not truly good, because the conviction is not such that the thing is clearly seen not to be able to be otherwise; but the conviction is always of this kind, and must be, in true belief, because nothing but good Desires proceed from it.

[30] But [the will] differs from opinion also, in that it can sometimes be infallible and certain; in opinion, which consists of guessing and conjecturing, [such certainty] has no place.

So one could call it a belief, insofar as it is capable of certainty, and opinion, insofar as it is capable of error.

4 Freudenthal (2, 278) contended that the third of Spinoza’s questions in II, xv, 2 (“how is it that the one errs and the other does not?”) has not yet been answered and will not be answered until we reach II, xvi, 7, which he thought ought to be placed near the end of II, xv. Against this is the fact that II, xvi, 7 addresses an objection based on a doctrine first enunciated in II, xvi, 5. I suggest that Spinoza considered his third question to have been answered in II, xv, 5.

1 Freudenthal (2, 278) thought that II, xvi-xviii ought to come after II, xix-xx, partly on the ground that II, xvi, 1 alludes to a previous discussion of the well-being of a perfect man, a discussion which, Freudenthal maintained, came only in II, xix-xx. But all of Spinoza’s other references to a perfect man come in earlier chapters (II, iv, vi, ix, and xiii).

2 What appears here as section [3a] is printed by Gebhardt as a note to “the particular willing” in l. 9, though as he observes, the manuscript does not indicate where the note should go. I follow Meijer in introducing it into the text.

3 The manuscript reads: “the Idea of its efficient cause is not an Idea.” Most subsequent editors (including Mignini) have followed Monnikhoff in deleting the initial phrase. Gebhardt thinks the text can be defended, and would understand: “the idea that each particular volition must have an efficient cause is not an idea which can be conceived, i.e., is an absurdity.”

4 Meijer proposed to emend this to: “without which the idea cannot exist,” a reading which both Appuhn and Dunin-Borkowski preferred to the text. The objection Spinoza rebuts would thus see the intellect as the cause of particular ideas, as the will is the cause of particular volitions. Gebhardt defends the text, arguing that Spinoza’s reply presupposes an objection which represents the intellect as determining the will.

5 Ms.: “it.” Meijer, followed by Appuhn and Francès, would gloss: “freedom of the will.”

6 The italicized phrases are in Latin in the text.

c For those who only consider the definition we gave of the intellect on [ms.] p. 112. [A marginal note. The ms. page reference = I/79/10-27.]

7 The doctrine that the intellect is wholly passive appears to be rejected in the Ethics IIIP1, but so much of what Spinoza says in this and the next section is retained in his later attacks on the Cartesian doctrine of judgement, that Wolf is probably right to attempt a reconciliation. Cf. Pléiade 1384-85.

8 The ms. reading, retained by Mignini, would be translated: “the object is the cause of that of which something is affirmed or denied.” I have accepted an emendation of the text advocated by Gebhardt, Appuhn and Wolf. Even if sense can be made of the ms. as it stands, anyone who retains that reading must assume the burden of finding a place where something like that has previously been said. The emenders can apeal to II, xv, 5. (A marginal note refers us to ms. pp. 110-111 ( = I/78/11-79/10), but it is difficult to see the relevance of that citation.)

[8] 58Finally, someone could also object to us that there are many [15] things which we will and do not will, e.g., to affirm something of a thing and9 not to affirm it, to speak the truth, and not to speak it, etc.

But this [objection] arises because Desire is not sufficiently distinguished from Will. For according to those who posit the Will, Will is [20] only that action of the intellect by which we affirm or deny something of a thing,10 without regard to good or bad. But Desire is a form in the soul to acquire or do something, with regard to the good or bad which are seen in it. So even after the affirmation or denial which we [25] have made of a thing, the Desire still remains; that is, after we have found or affirmed a thing to be good (which, according to them, is the Will), only after that does one acquire the Desire, that inclination to pursue the thing. So according to their own statements, the Will can indeed exist without the Desire, but the Desire cannot exist without [30] the Will, which must have preceded it.

[9] All the actions, then, which we have spoken of above (since they are either done by reason, as seeming good, or prevented by reason, as seeming evil), can only be conceived under those inclinations which are called Desires, and only most improperly under the name of Will.

[I/85] CHAPTER XVII
[THE DISTINCTION BETWEEN WILL AND DESIRE]

[1]1 Because it is now clear that we have no Will to affirm or to deny, [5] let us see the correct and true distinction between Will and Desire, or what that Will may really be which the Latins called voluntas.

[2] According to Aristotle’s definition, Desire seems to be a genus comprising under it two species.2 For he says the Will is that appetite or tendency which one has for what seems good. From this it seems [10] to me that he thinks Desire (or cupiditas) includes all inclinations, whether to good or bad.

But when the inclination is only to the good, or the man who has such inclinations has them for what seems good, he calls that voluntas, or good will.

[15] But if it is bad, i.e., if we see in someone else an inclination toward something that is bad, he calls that voluptas, or bad will. So the inclination of the soul is not to affirm or to deny something, but only an inclination to acquire something that seems good, and to avoid something that seems bad.

[20] [3] It remains now to 59examine whether this Desire is free or not. Besides what we have already said, viz. that Desire depends on the perception of things, and that the intellect must have an external cause, and also what we have said about the Will, it remains to be shown that Desire is not free.

[25] [4] Though many men see, indeed, that the knowledge man has of various things is a means by which his appetite or tendency passes from one thing to another, nevertheless they do not consider what it might be that happens to draw the appetite from the one to the other in this way.

[30] But to show that in our view this inclination is not free, and to make quite vivid what it is to pass over and be drawn from one thing to the other, we shall imagine a child who comes to perceive a certain thing for the first time. For example, I hold before him a little bell [I/86] which makes a pleasant sound in his ears, by which he acquires an appetite for it. Let us see now whether he could omit having this appetite or Desire? If you say yes, I ask: by what cause? Not by [5] something he knows to be better, for this is all he knows. Nor because it seems bad to him, for he knows nothing else, and that pleasure is the best that has ever come to him.

But perhaps he has a freedom to put aside that appetite which he has? From this it would follow that this appetite could indeed begin [10] in us without our freedom, but that we would equally have a freedom in us to put it aside. But this freedom cannot stand up to examination. For what would it be that would destroy this appetite? The appetite itself? Certainly not. For nothing by its own nature seeks its own destruction.

[15] What, then, might it finally be that could lead him away from this appetite? Nothing else except that by the order and course of Nature he is affected by something that is more pleasant to him than the first thing.

[5] And therefore, as we said in treating of the Will, that the Will in [20] man is nothing but this or that Will, so also is there in him nothing but this or that Desire, which is caused by this or that perception. That [universal] Desire is not something that is really in Nature, but is only abstracted from this or that particular desire. Not really being something, it cannot really cause anything.

[25] So if we say that the desire is free, it is just as if we said that this or that Desire was a cause of itself, i.e., that before it was, it brought it about that it would exist. This is absurdity itself, and cannot be.

[30] CHAPTER XVIII
[OF THE ADVANTAGES OF THE PRECEDING]

[1] We see then that because man is a part of the whole of Nature, depends on it, and is governed by it, he can do nothing, of himself, [I/87] toward his salvation and well-being. So let us see what advantages there are for us in these propositions of ours. This is all the more necessary, because we have no doubt that they will seem rather shocking to some people.

[5] [2] First, it follows from this that we are 60truly God’s servants—indeed, his slaves—and that our greatest perfection is to be such necessarily. For if we were left to ourselves, and so did not depend on God, there would be very little, or nothing, that we could accomplish, and we would rightly find in that a cause of sadness. But that would [10] be quite the contrary to what we now see, viz. that we depend on what is most perfect in such a way that we are a part of the whole, i.e., of him, and so to speak contribute our share to the accomplishment of as many well-ordered and perfect works as are dependent on [15] him.

[3] Second, this knowledge also has the result that after the accomplishment of something excellent 61we do not pride ourselves on this. Such pride causes us—when we think ourselves to be something great already, and to not require anything further—to stand still. So it is [20] directly contrary to our perfection, which consists in this, that we must always strive to attain more and more. But on the contrary, [if we have this knowledge,] we ascribe everything we do to God, who is the first and only cause of all that we accomplish.

[25] [4] 62Third, in addition to the true love of one’s fellow man which this knowledge gives us, it disposes us so that we never hate him, or are angry with him, but are instead inclined to help him and bring him to a better condition. Those are the actions of men who have a [30] great perfection or essence.

[5] 63Fourth, this knowledge also serves to further the common Good, for through it a judge will never be able to favor one more than another, and being required to punish one in order to reward the other, [35] he will do this with insight, so as to help and improve the one as much as the other.

[I/88] [6] 64Fifth, this knowledge frees us from sadness, despair, envy, fright, and other evil passions, which, as we shall say later,1 are the real hell itself.

[5] [7] 65Sixth, this knowledge brings us to the point where we do not fear God, as others fear the devil, whom they have feigned, so that he will not do anything evil to them. For how could we fear God, who is himself the greatest good, and through whom all things that [10] have any essence—and we who live in him—are what they are?

[8] [Finally], this knowledge 66also brings us to the point where we attribute everything to God, love him alone, because he is most magnificent and supremely perfect, and offer ourselves entirely to him. For that is what true religion and our eternal salvation and happiness [15] really consist in. For the only perfection and the final end of a slave and an instrument is to fulfill properly the task imposed on them.

For example, if a carpenter, in making some work, finds himself well-served by his axe, that axe has thereby attained its end and perfection. [20] But if he should think, this axe has now served me so well that I shall let it rest and exact no more service from it, then the axe would be separated from its end, and would no longer be an axe.

[9] Similarly, man, so long as he is a part of Nature, must follow [25] the laws of Nature. That is [true] religion.2 So long as he does this, he has his well-being. But if God, so to speak, willed that man should no longer serve him, that would be just as if he were to deprive him of his well-being and destroy him. For all that he is consists in this, that he serves God.

[30] CHAPTER XIX1
OF OUR BLESSEDNESS

[1]a Having seen the advantages of this true belief, we shall now strive [I/89] to fulfill the promise we have made: to investigate whether, through the 67knowledge we already have (such as, what good and evil are, what truth and falsity are, and what, in general, the advantages of all [5] these are) we can attain our well-being, i.e., the Love of God, which, as we have observed, is our greatest blessedness, and also how we can be free of those passions which we have judged to be evil?b

[2] To speak first to the second question, whether we can become free of the passions, I say that if we suppose that they have no other [10] causes than those we have posited, then if only we use our intellect well—as we can very easilyc do, now that we have a measure of truth and falsity—we shall never fall into them.

[3] 68But what we must now prove is that they have no other causes; [15] for this it seems to me to be required that we investigate ourselves completely, both with respect to the body and with respect to the mind.

And 69first [we have] to show that there is in Nature a body by whose form and actions2 we are affected, so that we perceive it. We [20] do this because if we come to see the actions of the body and what [I/90] they produce, we shall then also find the first and principal cause of all these passions, and at the same time, the means by which all these passions can be destroyed. From this we can then see whether that [5] can possibly be done through reason. Then we shall go on to speak of our Love of God.

[4] To show, then, that there is a body in Nature cannot be difficult for us, since we know already that God is, and what God is. For we [10] have defined him as a being of infinite attributes, of which each is infinite and perfect. And since extension is an attribute which we have shown to be infinite its kind, it must also, necessarily, be an attribute of that infinite being. And because we have also proven already that this infinite [15] being is real, it follows at the same time that this attribute is also real.

[5] Moreover, since we have also shown that apart from Nature, which is infinite, there is and can be no further being, it is evident [20] that this effect of body through which we perceive [it] can come from nothing other than extension itself, and not from anything else that (as some maintain) has that extension eminently. For as we have already shown in the first Chapter,3 this does not exist.

[6]d So we should note that all the effects which we see depend [25] necessarily on extension must be attributed to this attribute, e.g., Motion and Rest. For if the power to produce these effects were not in Nature, it would be impossible for them to be able to exist (even though many other attributes might also be in Nature). For if one [30] thing produces another, there must be some being in it through which it can produce that rather than something else.

What we say here about extension, we say also about thought, and everything there is.

[7] We must note further that nothing is in us unless there is a [I/91] power in us to be aware of it. So if we find nothing else to be in us but the effects of the thinking thing, and those of extension, we may say with certainty that nothing more is in us.

[5] To understand clearly the actions of both of these, we shall take each of them, first separately, and then together, along with the effects of each.

[10] [8] 70When we consider extension alone, we perceive nothing else in it except motion and rest, from which we find that all its effects derive. 71And such are these twoe modes in body, that there can be no other thing which can change them, except themselves. E.g., if a stone [15] is lying at rest, it is impossible that it should be able to be moved by the power of thinking, or anything else but motion, as when another stone, having more motion than this has rest, makes it move. Similarly, a stone in motion will not come to rest except through something [20] else that moves less. So it follows, then, that no mode of thinking will be able to produce either motion or rest in the body.

[9] 72But according to what we perceive in ourselves,4 it can indeed happen that a body which is now moving in one direction comes to move in another direction—e.g., when I stretch out my arm, and [25] thereby bring it about that the spirits, which previously were moving in a different direction, now however have this one—though [this does] not always [happen], but according to the constitution of the spirits, as will be said later.

The cause of this is, and can only be, that the soul, being an Idea [30] of this body, is so united with it, that it and this body, so constituted, together make a whole.

[I/92/27] [12] 74Furthermore, the soul’s power to move the spirits can also be hindered, either because the motion of the spirits is much decreased, or because it is much increased. It is decreased, for example, when [30] we have run a great deal. In doing this, we bring it about that the spirits give so much more motion than usual to the body, and lose so much motion, that they are necessarily much weakened. This can also happen through taking too little food. It is increased, for example, when we drink too much wine or other strong drink, thereby becoming merry, or drunk, and destroying the soul’s power to govern the [I/93/2] body.

[I/91/32] [10] 75The principal effect of the other attribute is a perception of things which, depending on the way that [the soul] comes to conceive [I/92] them, generates love or hate, etc. This effect, then, since it does not involve any extension, can also not be ascribed to extension, but only [5] to thought. So the cause of all the changes which arise in these modes must be sought only in the thinking thing, not in extension.

We can see this in love; for whether it is to be destroyed or to be aroused, such a change must be produced through the perception itself, which happens (as we have already said) because one comes to [10] know either that there is something bad in the object or that something else is better.

[11] So when these attributes come to act on one another, there arises from this a passion produced in the one by the other; e.g., through the determination of motion, which we have the power to [15] make go where we will. The actions, then, by which the one comes to be acted on by the other, are as follows: the soul [acting] on the body,5 as we have already said, can bring it about that the spirits which would otherwise have moved in one direction, should now, however, move in another.

And because these spirits can also be moved by the body, and so [20] determined [in their direction], it can often happen that having their motion in one direction because of the body, and in another because of the soul, they bring about those anxieties which we often perceive [25] in ourselves, without knowing the reasons why we have them. For otherwise the reasons are usually well known to us.

[I/93/3] [13] Having said this much about the actions of the soul on the body, let us now examine the actions of the body on the soul. We [5] maintain that 76the principal one is that it causes the soul to perceive it, and thereby to perceive other bodies also. This is caused only by Motion and Rest together. For there are no other things in the body through which it could act.

[10] [14] So whatever else apart from this perception happens to the soul cannot be produced through the body. And because the first thing the soul comes to know is the body, the result is that the soul loves the body and is united to it. But since, as we have already said, the cause [15] of love, hate, and sadness must be sought not in the body, but only in the soul (for all the actions of the body must proceed from motion and rest), and because we see clearly and distinctly that the one love is destroyed by the perception of something else that is better, it follows [20] from this clearly that if we once come to know God (at least with as clear a knowledge as we have of our body), we must then come to be united with him even more closely than with our body, and be, as it were, released from the body.

[25] I say more closely, for we have already proven before that without him we can neither be nor be understood. This is because we know him, and must know him, not through anything else (as is the case with all other things), but only through himself (as we have already said before). Indeed, we know him better than we know ourselves, [30] because without him we cannot know ourselves at all.

[15] From what we have so far said, it is easy to infer what are the principal causes of the passions. For regarding the body, and its effects, Motion and Rest, they cannot act on the soul otherwise than to make themselves known to it as objects. And according to the appearances [I/94] they present to it, whether of good or bad,f so the soul is also affected by them, not insofar as [the body] is a body (for then the body would be the principal cause of the passions), but insofar as it is [5] an object, like all other things, which would also have the same effects if they presented themselves to the soul in the same way.

[16] (But by this I do not mean that the love, hate, and sadness which proceed from the consideration of incorporeal things would have [10] the same effects as those which arise from the consideration of corporeal things. For as we shall say later, the former have still other effects, according to the nature of the thing whose conception arouses the love, hate, sadness, etc., in the soul considering the incorporeal things.)

[15] [17] So, to return to our previous topic, if something else should present itself to the soul more magnificently than the body does, it is certain that the body would then have no power to produce such effects as it now does.

From this it follows not only that the body is not the principal cause of the passions,g but also that even if there were something else in us, [I/95] apart from what we have now considered to be capable of producing the passions, such a thing, if it existed, would be able to act on the soul neither more, nor differently than the body now does. For it [5] could never be other than such an object as would be completely different from the soul, and consequently it would show itself to be such, and not otherwise (as we have also said of the body).

[18] So we may conclude truly that love, hate, sadness, and the [10] other ‘passions’ are produced in the soul in various ways, according to the kind of knowledge the soul has each time, And consequently, if it can once come to know also the most magnificent being of all, it will then be impossible for any of these passions to produce the least disturbance in it.

[15] CHAPTER XX
CONFIRMATION OF THE PRECEDING

[1] The following difficulties could be raised against what we have said in the preceding chapter:

77First, if motion is not the cause of the passions, how can one [20] nevertheless drive out sadness by [certain] means, as is often accomplished by wine?

[2] To this we may reply that a distinction must be drawna between the perception of the soul when it first becomes aware of the body [25] and the judgment it directly makes as to whether it is good or bad for it.

The soul, then, being constituted as has now mediately been said,1 we have shown before that [it] has [the] power to move the [animal] spirits where it will; but this power can nevertheless be taken from it, [I/96] as when, through other causes, arising from the body in general, the proportion [of motion of rest] established in the spirits is taken from them, or changed; and when the soul becomes aware of this, a sadness arises in it, according to the change the spirits then receive. This sadnessb [5] results from the love and the union it has with the body.

That this is so can easily be inferred from the fact that the sadness can be relieved in one of two ways: either by restoration of the spirits to their original form, i.e., by freeing him of that pain, or by being [10] convinced by good reasons to make nothing of this body. The first is temporary and [the pain always threatens] to come again. But the second is eternal, constant, and immutable.

[3] The 78second possible objection is this: we see that the soul, [I/97] though it has nothing in common with the body,c nevertheless can bring it about that the spirits, which would have moved in one direction, now however move in another direction—why, then, could they [5] not also make a body which is completely at rest begin to move? Similarly, why could it not also move wherever it will all other bodies that already have motion?

[4] But if we recall what we have already said about the thinking [10] thing, we will be able to remove this difficulty very easily. We said then that although Nature has different attributes, it is nevertheless only one [I/98] unique Being, of which all these attributes are predicated. We added that the thinking thing is also unique in Nature and that it is expressed in infinite Ideas, according to the infinite things that are in Nature. For [5] if the body receives one mode, such as, for example, Peter’s body, and again another, such as Paul’s body, the result of this is that there are two different ideas in the thinking thing: One Idea of Peter’s body, which makes the soul of Peter, and another of Paul[’s body], which [10] makes Paul’s soul. So then, the thinking thing can indeed move Peter’s body, through the Idea of Peter’s body, but not through the Idea of Paul’s body. So Paul’s soul can indeed move his own body, but not [15] that of someone else, such as Peter.d

And for this reason it also cannot move a stone which is at rest. For the stone makes another Idea again in the thinking thing.8 Hence it is no less clear that it is impossible for a body completely at rest to be [20] able to be moved by any mode of thought, for the reasons given above.

[5] The third possible 79objection is this: we seem to be able to see clearly that we can nevertheless produce a certain rest in the body. [I/99] But after we have moved our spirits a long time, we find that we are tired. This is nothing but a rest in the spirits, brought about by us.

[6] We answer that the soul is indeed a cause of this rest, but only [5] indirectly. For it does not bring the motion to rest immediately, but only through other bodies which it has moved, and which must have lost as much rest as they communicated to the spirits. So it is clear on all sides that in Nature there is one and the same kind of motion.

[10] CHAPTER XXI
OF REASON

[1] Now we have to inquire how it is that sometimes, 80though we see that a thing is good or bad, we nevertheless find no power in ourselves [15] to do the good, or omit the bad, while at other times we do [find this power in ourselves].

[2] We can easily grasp this, if we take into consideration the causes we have given of opinions, which we said were the causes of all the passions. These [causes] we said, are either report or experience. And [20] because whatever we find in ourselves has more power over us than anything which comes from outside, it follows that Reason can be a cause of the destruction of those opinionsa which we have only from report (because Reason has not come to us from outside), but not [a cause of the destruction] of those which we have through experience.

[25] [3] For the power the thing itself gives us is always greater than that we get as a result of a second thing. We noted this difference when speaking of reasoning and of clear understanding [I/54] where we illustrated it with the rule of three. For we have more power if we [I/100] understand the proportion itself than if we understand the rule of proportion. That is why we have already said so often that one love is destroyed by another that is greater, because by that we did not at [5] all want to refer to the desire which proceeds from reasoning.

CHAPTER XXII
OF TRUE KNOWLEDGE, REBIRTH, ETC.

[1] Since reason,1 then, has no power to bring us to our well-being, it [10] remains for us to investigate whether we can attain it by the fourth and 81last kind of knowledge.

We have said that this kind of knowledge is not a consequence of anything else, but an immediate manifestation of the object itself to the intellect. And if the object is magnificent and good, the soul necessarily [15] becomes united with it, as we have also said of the body.

[2] From this it follows incontrovertibly that this knowledge is what produces love; so if we come to know God in this way, then we must necessarily unite with him, for he cannot manifest himself, or be known [20] by us, as anything but the most magnificent and best of all. As we have already said, our blessedness consists only in this union with him.

I do not say that we must know him as he is;2 it is enough for us to know him to some extent in order to be united with him. For even in [I/101] the knowledge we have of the body we do not know it as it is, or perfectly. And yet, what a union! what a love!

[3] That this fourth [kind of] knowledge, which is the knowledge of God, is not the consequence of anything else, but immediate, is evident [5] from what we have previously proven, viz. that he is the cause of all knowledge which is known through itself alone, and not through any other thing. But in addition to that, it is also evident from the fact that by Nature we are so united with him that without him we [10] can neither be nor be understood. For this reason, then, because there is so close a union between God and us, it is evident that we can only understand him immediately.

[4] We shall now try to explain the union we have with him by [15] Nature and by love. We have already said that there can be nothing in Nature of which there is not an idea in the soul of the same thing.a And as the thing is more or less perfect, so also are the union of the Idea with the thing, or with God himself, and the effect [of that union] [20] more perfect.3 [5] For since the whole of Nature is one unique substance, whose essence is infinite, all things are united through Nature, and united into one [being], viz. God.

And because the body is the very first thing our soul becomes aware of—for as we have said, there can be nothing in Nature whose Idea [25] does not exist in the thinking thing, the idea which is the soul of that thing—that thing must, then, necessarily be the first cause of the idea.b

[I/102] But this Idea cannot find any rest in the knowledge of the body, without passing over into knowledge of that without which neither the body nor the Idea itself can either exist or be understood. Hence, [5] as soon as it knows that being, it will be united with it by love.

[6] To grasp this union better and infer what it must be, we must consider the effect [of the union] with the body. In this we see how, by knowledge of and passions toward corporeal things, there come to arise in us all those effects which we are constantly aware of in our [10] body, through the motion of the spirits; and so (if once our knowledge and love come to fall on that without which we can neither exist nor be understood, and which is not at all corporeal) the effects arising from this union will, and must, be incomparably greater and more [15] magnificent. For these [effects] must necessarily be commensurate with the thing with which it4 is united.

[7] 83When we become aware of these effects, we can truly say that we have been born again. For our first birth was when we were united with the body. From this union have arisen the effects and motions of [20] the [animal] spirits. But our other, or second, birth will occur when we become aware in ourselves of the completely different effects of love produced by knowledge of this incorporeal object. This [love of God] is as different from [love of the body] as the incorporeal is from [25] the corporeal, the spirit from the flesh.

This, therefore, may the more rightly and truly be called Rebirth, because, as we shall show, an eternal and immutable constancy comes only from this Love and Union.

[30] CHAPTER XXIII
OF THE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL

[1] If we once consider attentively what the Soul is, and where its change and duration arise from, we shall easily see whether it is mortal or immortal.

[I/103] We have said, then, that the Soul is an Idea which is in the thinking thing, arising from the existence of a thing which is in Nature. From this it follows that as the duration and change of the thing are, so also [5] the duration and change of the Soul must be. Moreover, we have noted that the Soul can be united either with the body of which it is the Idea or with God, without whom it can neither exist nor be understood.

[2] From this, then, one can easily see that:

1. if it is united with the body only, and the body perishes, then [10] it must also perish; for if it lacks the body, which is the foundation of its love, it must perish with it; but that

2. if it is united with another thing, which is, and remains, immutable, then, on the contrary, it will have to remain immutable [15] also. For through what would it then be possible that it should be able to perish? Not through itself, for as little as it was able, when it did not exist, through itself to begin to exist, so little is it able, now that it exists, [through itself]1 to change or perish. So what alone is the cause of [the Soul’s] existence [i.e., God], would [20] also, when [the Soul] came to perish, have to be the cause of its nonexistence, because it [i.e., God] changed or perished.2

CHAPTER XXIV
OF GOD’S LOVE FOR MAN

25 [1] So far we think we have sufficiently shown what our love of God is, and its effect, our eternal duration. 85So we do not consider it necessary to say anything here about other things, such as joy in God, peace of mind, etc., since from what has been said one can easily see what should be said about them.

[30] [2] But1 since we have spoken up to now only of our love for God, it remains to be seen whether there is also a love of God for us. 86I.e., whether God also loves men, and whether he does this when they love him?

[I/104] First, we have said that no modes of thought can be ascribed to God except those which are in creatures, so that it cannot be said that God loves men, much less that he loves them because they love him, [5] and hates them because they hate him. For if that were so, one would have to suppose that men do such a thing freely and that they do not depend on a first cause. This we have already proven to be false. Moreover, this would also have to produce a great mutability in God. [10] Where previously he had neither loved nor hated, he would now begin to love and to hate, and would be caused to do this by something that would be outside him. But this is absurdity itself.

[3] When2 we say, however, that God does not love man, that must [15] not be understood as if he left man, as it were, to proceed on his own; [we mean] rather, that because man, together with all there is, is so in God, and God so consists of all of these, there cannot be in him any real love toward something else, since everything consists in one unique thing which is God himself.

[20] [4] From3 this it follows also that God does not give man laws in order to reward him when he fulfills them. To put it more clearly, God’s laws are not of such a nature that they could ever be transgressed. For the rules that God has established in Nature, according [25] to which all things come to be and endure—if we want to call them laws—are such that they can never be transgressed. E.g., that the weakest must yield to the strongest, that no cause can produce more than it has in itself, etc., are of such a kind that they never change, never begin, but that everything is disposed and ordered under them.

[30] [5] To say something about them briefly, 88all laws that cannot be transgressed are divine laws. For whatever happens is, not contrary to, but according to his own decree. All laws that can be transgressed are human laws. For everything that man decides for his own well-being [I/105] is not necessarily for the well-being of the whole of Nature also. On the contrary, it may be destructive of many other things.

[6] 89When the laws of Nature are more powerful, the laws of man are destroyed.4 90The divine laws are the ultimate end, on account of [5] which they exist, and are not subordinated. Not so human laws. For notwithstanding the fact that men make laws for their own well-being, and have no other end than to advance their own well-being thereby, this end of theirs—being subordinated to other ends, which another [10] has in view, who is above them and lets them so act, as being parts of Nature—can also serve the end that it concurs with those eternal laws that God has established from eternity and that in this way it contributes to produce everything.

For example, bees, in all their work, and in the order they maintain [15] among themselves, have no other end in view than to provide a certain supply for the winter. Nevertheless, man, who is above them, has a completely different end in maintaining and caring for them, viz. to get honey for himself.

[20] So also man, as a particular thing, has no further purpose than his limited essence can attain; but as a part and instrument of the whole of Nature, this end of his cannot be the ultimate end of Nature, because it is infinite and must use man, along with all other things, as its instrument.

[25] [7] So far, then, we have spoken of the law established by God. 91But we should also note that man is also aware of two kinds of law in himself (I mean the man who uses his intellect properly, and comes to knowledge of God): one produced by the community he has with God, the other by the community he has with the modes of Nature.

[30] [8] Of these, the one is necessary, the other not.

For regarding the law arising from community with God, because he cannot fail to be always necessarily united with God, he has, and must always have before his eyes, the laws according to which he must live for and with God.

[I/106] But as for the law arising from community with modes, since he can separate himself from men,5 this is not so necessary.

[9] Because we maintain such a community between God and man, [5] one might rightly ask how God can make himself known to man, and whether this happens, or could happen, through spoken words, or immediately, without using any other thing to do it?

[10] We answer: not in any case by words. For then man would [10] have had to know already the meanings of those words before they were spoken to him. For example, if God had said to the Israelites: I am Jehovah your God,6 they must have known previously, without the words that he was God, before they could be sure that it was he.7 For [15] they knew that that voice, thunder and lightning were not God, though the voice said that it was God.

And what we say here about words, we want applied to all other external signs. So we consider it impossible that God could make himself [20] known to men by means of any external signs.

[11] 93We also consider it unnecessary that this should happen through anything other than God’s essence alone and man’s intellect. For since that in us which must know God is the intellect, and the intellect is [25] so immediately united with him that it can neither exist nor be understood without him, it is incontrovertibly clear that no thing can ever be joined to the intellect as God himself is.

[12] 94It is also impossible to be able to know God through anything [30] else:8

1. Because such a thing would then have to be better known to us than God himself, which is plainly contrary to everything which we have clearly shown up to this point, viz. that God is a cause both of our knowledge and of all essence, and that all particular things not only cannot exist without him, but also cannot even be understood.

[I/107] 2. That we can never attain to the knowledge of God through any other thing whose being is necessarily limited, even if it was better known to us. For how is it possible that we could infer an [5] infinite and unlimited thing from one that is limited?

[13] For though we observed some effects or some work in Nature whose cause was unknown to us, nevertheless, it is impossible for us to infer from that that there must be an infinite and unlimited thing [10] in Nature to produce this effect. For how can we know whether many causes concurred to produce it, or there was only one? Who will tell us that? So we conclude, finally, that to make himself known to man, God neither can, nor need, use words, miracles, or any other created [15] thing, but only himself.

CHAPTER XXV
OF DEVILS

[1] 95We shall now say something briefly about whether or not there are Devils:

[20] If the Devil is a thing that is completely contrary to God and has nothing from God, then he agrees precisely with Nothing, of which we have already spoken previously.

[2] If, as some do, we maintain that he is a thinking thing that neither wills nor does anything at all that is good, and so completely [25] opposes himself to God, then certainly he is quite miserable, and if prayers could help, we should pray for his conversion.

[3] But let us just see whether such a miserable thing could exist for even a single moment. If we consider this, we shall immediately find [30] that it cannot. For all the duration of a thing arises from its perfection, and the more essence and divinity they have in them, the more constant they are.1 Since the Devil has the least perfection in himself, how, I wonder, could he exist? Moreover, constancy or duration in [I/108] the mode of the thinking thing only arise through the union which such a mode has with God, a union produced by love. Since the exact [5] opposite of this is posited in Devils, they cannot possibly exist.

[4] But because there is no necessity to posit Devils, why should they be posited? 96For we have no need, as others do, to posit Devils in order to find causes of hate, envy, anger, and such passions. We [10] have come to know them sufficiently without the aid of such fictions.

CHAPTER XXVI
OF TRUE FREEDOM ETC.

[1] By what we have maintained in the preceding, we wanted to indictate not only that there are no devils, 97but also that the causes (or to [15] put it better, what we call sins) which prevent us from attaining our perfection are in ourselves.

[2] We have also shown in the preceding how, both by reason1 and by the fourth kind of knowledge, we must attain our blessedness, and [20] how the passions must be destroyed: not in the way commonly said, that they must be subdued before we can attain to the knowledge, and consequently to the love, of God—that would be like maintaining that someone who is ignorant should first put aside his ignorance before he [25] could arrive at knowledge—on the contrary, only knowledge [of God] is the cause of the destruction [of the passions],2 as is evident from everything we have said.

Similarly, it may also be inferred clearly from the preceding that without virtue, or to put it better, without being governed by the [30] intellect, everything leads to ruin, without our being able to enjoy any peace, and we live as if out of our element.

[3] So even if the power of knowledge and divine love did not bring the intellect to an eternal peace, as we have shown, but only to a [I/109] temporary one, it is our duty to seek even this, since it is such that one who enjoys it would not want to exchange it for anything else in the world.

[5] [4] Since this is so, we can, with reason, regard as most absurd what is said by many, who are otherwise considered great theologians: that if the love of God did not lead to eternal life, they would then seek what is best for themselves. As if they could find anything better than [10] God! This is as silly as if a fish (which cannot live outside the water) should say: if no eternal life is to come to me after this life in the water, I want to leave the water for the land.3 But what else can those who do not know God say to us?

[5] So we see that to reach the truth of what we maintain as established [15] regarding our salvation and peace, we need no principle other than that of seeking our own advantage, something which is very natural in all things. And since we find that pursuing sensual pleasures, lusts, and worldly things leads not to our salvation but to our destruction, [20] we therefore prefer to be governed by our intellect.

But because this can make no progress unless we have first arrived at the knowledge and love of God, it is most necessary to seek him. [25] And because, after the preceding reflections and considerations, we have found him to be the greatest good of all goods, we must stand firm here, and be at peace. For we have seen that outside him, there is nothing that can give us any salvation. True freedom is to be and [30] to remain bound by the lovely chains of the love of God.4

[6] Finally, we see also that reasoning is not the principal thing in us, but only like a stairway, by which we can climb up to the desired place, or like a good spirit which without any falsity or deception brings tidings of the greatest good, to spur us thereby to seek it, and [I/110] to unite with it in a union which is our greatest salvation and blessedness.

[7]5 To bring this work to an end, it remains now to indicate briefly [5] what human freedom consists in. To do this, I shall use the following propositions as things which are certain and proven.

1. The more essence a thing has, the more it also has of action [10] and the less of passion. For it is certain that the agent acts through what he has, and that the one who is acted on is acted on through what he does not have.

2. All passion, whether it is from not being to being, or from being to not being, must proceed from an external agent, and not from an internal one. For no thing, considered in itself, has in [15] itself a cause enabling it to destroy itself (if it exists) or to make itself (if it does not exist).

3. Whatever is not produced by external causes can also have nothing in common with them, and consequently will not be able [20] to be changed or transformed by them.

From these last two [propositions], I infer the following fourth proposition.

4. No effect of an immanent or internal cause (which is all one, according to me) can possibly perish or change so long as its cause [25] remains. For just as such an effect has not been produced by external causes, so also it cannot be changed [by them] (by the third proposition). And because nothing can be destroyed except through external causes, it is impossible that this effect should be able to perish so long as its cause endures (by the second proposition).[30]

5. The freest cause of all, and the one most suited to God, is the immanent. For the effect of this cause depends on it in such a way that without it, [the effect] can neither exist nor be understood; [I/111] nor is [the effect] subjected to any other cause. Moreover, [the effect] is also so united with [the cause] that together they form a whole.

[8] So let us see now what we have to conclude from these propositions. First, then,

[5] 1. Since God’s essence is infinite, it has an infinite action, and an infinite negation of passion (by the first proposition); consequently, the more things, through their greater essence, are united with God, the more they also have of action, and the less of [10] passion, and the more they are also free of change and corruption.

2. The true intellect can never come to perish, for in itself it can have no cause to make itself perish (by the second proposition). And because it has not proceeded from external causes, but from [15] God, it cannot receive any change from him (by the third proposition). And since God has produced it immediately, and he alone is an internal cause, it follows necessarily that it cannot perish, so long as this, its cause, remains (by the fourth proposition). [20] Now this, its cause, is eternal. Therefore, it too [is eternal].

3. All the effects of the intellect which are united with him are the most excellent, and must be valued above all others. For because they are internal effects, they are the most excellent of all (by the fifth proposition); moreover, they also must be eternal, [25] for their cause is eternal.

4. All the effects which we produce outside ourselves are the more perfect the more they are capable of being united with us to make one and the same nature, for in this way they are nearest [30] to internal effects. For example, if I teach my fellow men to love sensual pleasure, esteem, and greed, then whether I also love these things or not, I am hacked or beaten.6 This is clear. But [this will] not [be the result] if the only end I strive to attain is to be able to taste union with God, produce true ideas in myself, and make all [I/112] these things known to my fellow men also.7 For we can all share equally in this salvation, as happens when this produces in them the same desire that is in me, bringing it about thereby that their will and mine are one and the same, and producing one and the [5] same nature, agreeing always in all things.

[9] From all that has been said, it can now be very easily conceived what human freedoma is. I define it as follows: it is a firm existence, which our intellect acquires through immediate union with God, so [10] that it can produce ideas in itself, and outside itself effects agreeing well with its nature, without its effects being subjected, however, to any external causes by which they can be changed or transformed.

At the same time, from what has been said it is also clear which [15] things are in our power and are subjected to no external causes; similarly we have also proven here, and in a different way than before, the eternal and constant duration of the intellect, and finally, which effects we have to value above all others.

[20] [10]8 To bring all this to an end, it remains only for me to say to the friends to whom I write this: do not be surprised at these novelties, for you know very well that it is no obstacle to the truth of a thing that it is not accepted by many.

[25] And as you are also aware of the character of the age in which we live, I would ask you urgently to be very careful about communicating these things to others. I do not mean that you should keep them altogether to yourselves, but only that if you ever begin to communicate [30] them to someone, you should have no other aim or motive than the salvation of your fellow man, and make as sure as possible that you will not work in vain.

[I/113] Finally, if in reading through this you encounter any difficulty regarding what I maintain as certain, I ask you not to hasten, on that account, immediately to refute it before you have given enough time [5] and reflection to meditating on it. If you do this, I feel sure you will attain the enjoyment of the fruits you promise yourselves from this tree.

THE END

[I/114] [Appendix I]1

AXIOMS

A1: Substance is, by its nature, prior to all its modifications.2

[5] A2: Things that are different are distinguished either really or modally.

A3: Things that are distinguished really either have different attributes, like thought and extension, or are related to different attributes, [10] like understanding and motion, of which the one belongs to thought, the other to extension.

A4: Things that have different attributes, as well as those that belong to different attributes, have nothing in themselves the one from the other.3

[15] A5: What has nothing in itself from another thing can also not be the cause of the existence of such another thing.

A6: What is a cause of itself could not possibly have limited itself.

[20] A7: That by which things are distinguished4 is by its nature prior to such things.

[PROPOSITIONS]

P1: To no substance which really exists can we relate the same attribute that [25] is related to another substance, or (what is the same) in Nature there cannot be two substances unless they are distinguished really.5

[I/115] Dem.: If the two substances are two, they are different. And consequently (by A2) are distinguished, either really or modally. Not modally, for then (by A7)6 the modifications by their nature would be [5] prior to the substance (contrary to A1). Therefore, really. Hence what can be said of the one cannot (by A4) be said of the other. This is what we were trying to prove.

[10] P2: One substance cannot be the cause of the existence of another substance.

Dem.: Such a cause can have nothing in itself of such an effect (by P1), for the difference between them is real, and consequently (by A5) [15] it cannot produce it (existence).

P3: Every attribute, or substance, is by its nature infinite, and supremely perfect in its kind.

[20] Dem.: No substance is produced by another (P2); consequently, if it exists, it is either an attribute of God or it has been a cause of itself outside God. If the first, then it is necessarily infinite and supremely [25] perfect in its kind, as are all God’s other attributes. If the second, it also must be such; for (by A6) it could not have limited itself.

[I/116] P4: Existence belongs, by nature, to the essence of every substance, so much so that it is impossible to posit in an infinite intellect the idea of the essence of [5] a substance which does not exist in Nature.

Dem.: The true essence of an object is something which is really distinct from the Idea of that object, and this something (by A3)7 [10] either exists really, or is contained in another thing which exists really and from which one cannot distinguish this essence really, but only modally; such are all the essences of things we see which, when they [15] did not previously exist, were contained in extension, motion and rest, and which, when they do exist, are distinguished from extension not really, but only modally. And also it involves a self-contradiction to maintain that the essence of a substance is contained in another thing [20] in this way, since in that case it would not be distinguished from it really (contrary to P1); also, it could then be produced by the subject which contains it (contrary to P2); and finally, it could not be infinite through its nature and supremely perfect in its kind (contrary to P3). [25] Therefore, because its essence is not contained in any other thing, it must be a thing that exists through itself.

Cor.: Nature is known through itself, and not through any other thing. It consists of infinite attributes, each of which is infinite and [30] perfect in its kind. Existence belongs to its essence, so that outside it there is no essence or being. Hence it agrees exactly with the essence of God, who alone is magnificent and blessed.

[I/117] [Appendix II]

OF THE HUMAN SOUL

[1] Since man is a created, finite thing, etc., it is necessary that what he has of thought, and what we call the soul, is a mode of that attribute [5] we call thought, without any thing other than this mode belonging to his essence; so much so that if this mode perishes, the soul is also destroyed, although the preceding attribute remains immutable.

[2] Similarly, what he has of extension, which we call the body, is [10] nothing but a mode of the other attribute we call extension. If this mode too is destroyed, the human body no longer exists, though the attribute of extension remains immutable.

[3] To understand now what this mode is, which we call soul, how [15] it has its origin from the body, and also how its change depends (only) on the body (which I maintain to be the union of soul and body), we must note:

1. That the most immediate mode of the attribute we call thought [20] has objectively in itself the formal essence of all things, so that if one posited any formal things whose essence did not exist objectively in the above-named attribute, it would not be infinite or supremely perfect in its kind (contrary to P3).

[25] [4] And since Nature or God is one being, of which infinite attributes are said, and which contains in itself all essences of created things, it is necessary that of all this there is produced in thought an infinite Idea, which contains in itself objectively the whole of Nature, as it is in itself.1

[30] That is why I have also called this Idea (in I, ix) a creature created immediately by God, since it has in itself objectively the formal essence of all things, without omission or addition. And this is necessarily only one, taking into consideration that all the essences of the [I/118] attributes, and the essences of the modes contained in those attributes, are the essence of only one infinite being.2

[5] 2. It should also be noted that all the remaining modes, such as [5] Love, Desire, and Joy, have their origin in this first immediate mode, so that if it did not precede them, there could be no Love, Desire, etc.

[6] From this it may clearly be concluded that the Natural love which is in each thing for the preservation of its body3 can have no [10] other origin than in the Idea, or the objective essence of such a body, which is in the thinking attribute.

[7] Furthermore, since for the existence of an Idea (or objective essence) nothing is required other than the thinking attribute and the object (or formal essence), it is certain, as we have said, that the Idea, [15] or objective essence, is the most immediatea mode of the attribute. And consequently there can be, in the thinking attribute, no other mode which would belong to the essence of the soul of each thing, except the Idea, which must be of such a thing as really existing, and [20] which must exist in the thinking attribute. For such an Idea brings with it the remaining modes of Love, Desire, etc.

Now since the Idea proceeds from the existence of the object, then if the object changes or is destroyed, the Idea itself also changes or is [25] destroyed in the same degree; this being so, it is what is united with the object.4

[8] Finally, if we should wish to proceed to ascribe to the essence of the soul that by which it can exist, we would not be able to find anything other than that attribute, and the object of which we have [30] just spoken, and neither of these can belong to the essence of the soul. For the object has nothing of thought, and is really distinct from the [I/119] soul. And as for the attribute, we have already proven that it cannot belong to the above-mentioned essence. From what we have subsequently said, this should be seen even more clearly; for the attribute, as attribute, is not united with the object, since it neither changes nor [5] is destroyed, though the object changes or is destroyed.

[9] Therefore, the essence of the soul consists only in the being of an Idea, or objective essence, in the thinking attribute, arising from the essence of an object which in fact exists in Nature. I say of an [10] object that really exists, etc., without further particulars, in order to include here not only the modes of extension, but also the modes of all the infinite attributes, which have a soul just as much as those of extension do.5

[10] To understand this definition in more detail, it will help to [15] consider what I have already said in speaking of the attributes. I have saidb that the attributes are not distinguished according to their existence, for they themselves are the subjects of their essences;6 that the essence of each of the modes is contained in the attributes just mentioned; and finally, that all the attributes are attributes of One infinite [20] being.

[11] But it should be noted in addition that these modes, when considered as not really existing, are nevertheless equally contained in their attributes. And because there is no inequality at all in the attributes,7 nor in the essences of the modes, there can be no particularity [25] in the Idea, since it is not in Nature. But whenever any of these modes put on their particular existence, and by that are in some way distinguished from their attributes (because their particular existence, which they have in the attribute, is then the subject of their essence), then a [30] particularity presents itself in the essences of the modes, and consequently in their objective essences, which are necessarily contained in the Idea.

[12] This is why we have used these words in the definition, that [I/120] the soul is an Idea arising from an object which exists in Nature. And with this we consider that we have sufficiently explained what kind of thing the soul is in general, understanding by this expression not only the [5] Ideas that arise from corporeal modes, but also those that arise from the existence of each mode of the remaining attributes.

[13] But since we do not have, of the remaining attributes, such a knowledge as we have of extension, let us see whether, having regard [10] to the modes of extension, we can discover a more particular definition, which is more suited to express the essence of our soul. For this is our real intention.

[14] Here, then, we shall suppose as a thing proven, that there is no other mode in extension than motion and rest, and that each particular [15] corporeal thing is nothing but a certain proportion of motion and rest, so much so that if there were nothing in extension except motion alone, or nothing except rest alone, there could not be, or be indicated, in the whole of extension, any particular thing. The human [20] body, then, is nothing but a certain proportion of motion and rest.

[15] So this existing proportion’s objective essence in the thinking attribute is the soul of the body. Hence when one of these modes (motion or rest) changes, either by increasing or by decreasing, the [25] Idea also changes correspondingly. For example, if the rest happens to increase, and the motion to decrease, the pain or sadness we call cold is thereby produced. On the other hand, if this [increase] occurs in the motion, then the pain we call heat is thereby produced.

[30] [16] And so when the degrees of motion and rest are not equal in all parts of our body, but some have more motion and rest than others, there arises a difference of feeling (e.g., from this comes the different kind of pain we feel when we are struck with a little stick in the eyes or on the hands).

When the external causes which bring changes about differ in themselves, [I/121] and do not all have the same effects, there arises a difference of feeling in one and the same part (e.g., the difference of feeling from a blow with a piece of wood or iron on the same hand).

[5] And again, if the change which happens in a part is a cause of its returning to its original proportion, from this there arises the joy we call peace, pleasurable activity, and cheerfulness.

[17] Finally, because we have now explained what feeling is, we can [10] easily see how from this there arises a reflexive Idea, or knowledge of oneself, experience, and reasoning.

And from all of this (as also because our soul is united with God, and is a part of the infinite Idea arising immediately from God) we can see clearly the origin of clear knowledge, and the immortality of [15] the soul. But for the present what we have said will be enough.

9 Ms.: “or.” I follow Monnikhoff, who is surely right to emend here, though not, as Wolf suggests, because the things in question are ones we sometimes want and sometimes do not want. Rather the objection envisages conflicts of desire, in which we, at one and the same time, both want and do not want the same thing.

10 If this is intended to represent Descartes’ position, it does not seem very accurate, since Descartes would not want to characterize the will as an action of the intellect. But perhaps Spinoza would regard the argument of § 3a as justifying the denial of the distinction Descartes wants to make.

1 Freudenthal found the first two sections of this chapter a cursory and completely unsatisfactory discussion of topics already treated more fully and carefully in the preceding chapter, and suggested that they were a first draft of material for Chapter XVI, which an unknown (and imperceptive) editor had incorporated into the text. Many subsequent editors have essentially agreed. Mignini nevertheless suggests an important distinction between the two discussions, viz. that Chapter XVI is primarily a critique of Cartesian doctrines, while Chapter XVII, 1-2, is primarily an exposition of Aristotelian doctrines.

Gebhardt also took this passage to be a remnant of the original Dutch dictation which he hypothesized, on the ground that it would be unnatural for Spinoza to refer to the Latin language as he does here if he were writing in Latin. Mignini points out parallels in works which we know Spinoza composed in Latin.

A marginal note reads: “What belief tells us about the distinction between Will and Desire. According to the fourth effect.”

2 The reference appears to be to De Anima III, 10, though, as Wolf observes, Spinoza’s comments are probably based on Scholastic intermediaries.

1 Freudenthal noted that we do not get the promised later discussion of the real hell as domination by bad passions, and he cited this as evidence that our manuscript of the Short Treatise represents an unfinished draft. Gebhardt suggests that the reference might be to I/108/6-17. Though the doctrine of eternal punishment was widely questioned in the seventeenth century, Spinoza would appear to be considerably more radical than most of his contemporaries. Cf. Walker (1).

a Whether we can attain our supreme salvation and be free of evil passions through true belief. [A marginal note.]

[I/89] bAll the passions which are contrary to good reason arise (as we have previously indicated) from opinion. True belief indicates to us everything that is good or bad in [25] them. But neither of these, either separately or together, is powerful enough to free us from them. Only the third way, true knowledge, makes us free of them. Without this it is impossible for us ever to be able to be freed of them, as will be shown later.

2 Godsdienst, the ordinary term in Dutch for religion, is literally “service to God.” That etymology is so central to the thought of this passage that one might find grounds here for suspecting that the passage was not written originally in Latin. But perhaps the explanation is simply that Spinoza was addressing an audience whose native language was Dutch.

1 Freudenthal contended that this (and the immediately following chapter, which is closely tied to it) should be placed between II, xv and xvi, partly because the epistemological discussions of xvi-xvii are a disgression from the ethical discussions of the chapters which surround them, partly because the opening of II, xix presupposes that the discussion of the advantages of true belief has just been concluded, and partly for reasons already discussed (see the note to II/80/10). Meijer, Appuhn, and Gebhardt reject his contention, because they find the structure of the chapters of the Short Treatise as we have it analogous to that of the last two books of the Ethics.

[I/89] Would this not be what others, using other terms, say and write so much about? For [30] who does not see how well we can understand by opinion, sin, by belief, the law that points out sins, by true knowledge, the grace that frees us of sin? [The note comes at this point in the manuscript, but without any indication of what it is supposed to amplify here. It concludes with the instruction that it should be placed in II, xxii. Gebhardt, in company with most editors, leaves it here, as the more appropriate location, though he does not think that as a whole it offers any “enrichment” of the text. Meijer suspected the second paragraph of being an interpolation by the Christian copyist. Gebhardt brackets the whole note as inauthentic, and probably introduced by Jelles. I see no reason to reject the first paragraph. Mignini attaches it to I/100/8.]

c That is, if we have a thorough knowledge of good and evil, truth and falsity. For [35] then it is impossible to be subject to what the passions arise from. For when we know and enjoy the best, the worst has no power over us. [Gebhardt brackets this note, which occurs as a footnote rather than as a marginal note, as being probably an editorial gloss, essentially similar to other notes relegated to the textual commentary.]

2 Generally uitwerking must translate effectus, but here it seems best (following Meijer and Wolf) to treat it as equivalent to werking.

d What now comes into consideration is of great consequence. [A marginal note, relegated by Gebhardt to the textual commentary.]

e Two modes because rest is certainly not Nothing. [Gebhardt brackets this footnote as a reader’s note.]

3 Wolf suggests that the reference is to the first Dialogue in Part I and to I, ii, but perhaps it is to I, i, 8.

4 A marginal note at this point reads: “What we, notwithstanding this, perceive to be able to happen in us. Followed by what is on [ms.] p. 132.” The reference is to section 12. On the strength of this note and the order of the mysterious numbers in the ms., Mignini places section 12 immediately after section 9. This does seem to me a more logical ordering of the materials, and I have followed it. Mignini takes this as confirmation that Spinoza himself was the author of the numerical sequence in the ms. and that he is here correcting his own first draft. Cf. Mignini 3,259. If this hypothesis is correct, then the doubts some editors have had about the authenticity of this passage (and others in which Spinoza seems to accept a measure of mind-body interaction) would be misplaced. See Wolf, 2, 227-229 for an interesting discussion of the relevant passages.

5 The ms. reads: “the soul and the body.” Gebhardt retains the ms. reading, though Sigwart had challenged it on the strength of a marginal note attached to “soul” which reads: “Understand: each particular, or also the soul acting on the body can indeed bring it about etc.” Mignini adopts the emendation (reading “in” for “en”, but also changing “konnen” to “kan”), calling attention to the beginning of § 13.

[I/94] f But how does it come about that we know the one to be good and the other bad? Answer: since it is the objects which make us perceive them, we are affected differently by the one than by the other. Those by which we are moved most moderately, according [25] to the proportion of motion and rest of which they consist,6 are most pleasant to us, and as they depart further and further from [such moderation], they are most unpleasant.

6 Gebhardt emended the text here to read: “of which we consist” (reading “wij” for “sij”), arguing that consistency with the subjectivistic aesthetic of E I App. required this. Mignini retains the ms. reading, arguing that it is not inconsistent with E I App.

And from this there arise all the kinds of feelings which we are aware of in ourselves and which, when they are produced by corporeal objects, acting on our body, as they [30] often are, we call impulses. For example, one can make someone who is sad laugh or be merry by tickling him, or having him drink wine, etc. The soul indeed is aware of this, but does not act. For when the soul acts, its merriment is of another kind. Then body does not act on body, but the intellectual soul uses the body as an instrument. Consequently, [35] the more the soul acts, the more perfect the feeling is.

g It is not necessary to hold that the body alone is the principal cause of the passions, but any other substance, if it came to exist, would be able to produce them, and not [I/95] something else or more; for it could not differ more in nature than this one [the body], [30] which is completely different from [the soul]. And it is from this difference of the objects that the change in the soul arises. [Gebhardt prints this note, which most editors have suppressed. But he does not think it genuine. Meijer does ascribe it to Spinoza.]

a That is, between the intellect taken generally, and the intellect as having a regard for the good or bad of the thing. [A marginal note, bracketed by Gebhardt as probably not genuine.]

[I/96] b The sadness is produced in man by an opinion that something bad is happening to [15] him, i.e., the loss of some good. When he has such a perception, the result is that the spirits gather around the heart, and with the help of other parts press against it and enclose it, just the opposite of what happens in joy. The soul in turn is aware of this [20] pressure, and is pained.

Now what is it that medicines or wine bring about? This: that by their action they drive these spirits from the heart and make room again. When the soul becomes aware of this, it gets relief, in that the opinion that something bad is occurring is diverted by [25] the different proportion of motion and rest which the wine produces; so it turns to something else, in which the intellect finds more satisfaction. This cannot be an immediate action of the wine on the soul, but only an action of the wine on the spirits [and thereby on the soul].

1 So the manuscript reads. There is a consensus that the text is corrupt, but no consensus as to its emendation. Earlier editors tended to read the phrase translated by “now mediately” (nu mediate) as a slip for “immediately” (immediate). Gebhardt omits the nu and transfers mediate to the next line, producing a text that would be translated: “The soul, then, being constituted as has been said, we have shown before that it has mediately the power etc.” He refers to 99/3-4 as a corresponding passage. It would be more convincing if Gebhardt had cited an earlier rather than a later passage. Perhaps Spinoza’s backward reference here is to xix, 9, where he does seem to ascribe to the soul an indirect control over the motions of the animal spirits. Mignini finds this interpretation impossible and suggests an emendation which would be translated: “The soul, then, being mediately constituted as has been said, we have shown before that [it] has [the] power etc.” The idea seems to be that, although the soul is a mode of thought, because it is also the idea of the body, undergoing changes corresponding to those in the body, its powers are in a certain sense derivative from those of the body.

c2 There is no difficulty here as to how this one mode, which differs infinitely from [30] the other, acts on the other. For it is a part of the whole, because the soul has never existed without the body, nor the body without the soul. We arrive at this as follows:

1. There is a perfect being. [I/20/1]

2. There cannot be two substances. [I/23/14ff.]

3. No substance can begin. [I/19/39-43]

[35] 4. Every attribute is infinite in its kind. [I/19/6]

5. There must also be an attribute of thinking. [I/51/22-23]

6. There is no thing in Nature of which there is not, in the thinking thing, an idea proceeding from it according to its essence and its existence together. [I/51/24]

7. Consequently,

[I/97/12] 8. Since the essence, without existence, is conceived as belonging to the meanings of things, the Idea of the essence cannot be considered as something singular. That can [15] only happen when the existence is there together with the essence, and that because then there is an object which did not exist before. E.g., when the whole wall is white, then there is no this or that in etc.

9. This Idea then, considered alone, apart from all other Ideas, can be no more than [20] an Idea of such a thing; it does not have an idea of such a thing. Because such an idea, so considered, is only a part, it cannot have the clearest and most distinct concept of itself and its object; but the thinking thing, which alone is the whole of Nature, can. For a part, considered apart from its whole, cannot etc.3

[25] 10. Between the Idea and the object there must necessarily be a union, because the one cannot exist without the other. For there is no thing of which there is not an Idea in the thinking thing, and no idea can exist unless the thing also exists.

Further, the object cannot be changed unless the Idea is also changed, and vice versa, [30] so that no third thing is necessary here which would produce the union of soul and body.

But it should be noted that here we are speaking of such Ideas as necessarily arise in God from the existence of things, together with their essence, not of those Ideas which things now actually present to us4 [or] produce in us. Between these two there is a great [35] difference. For in God the Ideas arise from the existence and essence [of the things], according to all they are—not, as in us, from one or more of the senses (with the result that we are nearly always affected by things only imperfectly and that my Idea and yours differ, though one and the same thing produces them in us.).5

2 There is no indication in the ms. as to where this note goes. For each of the first six propositions the ms. has an incomplete reference in the form: “p.______.” Some scholars have contended that the missing page references could not be supplied from the Treatise as we have it, and have therefore conjectured a lost section, or sections. The bracketed page references are given by Gebhardt, following suggestions by Meijer.

3 Meijer suggests glossing “etc.” as “be conceived.”

4 So Wolf, and this does seem to me the most natural way of taking the Dutch. But Appuhn, followed by the Pléiade editors, has: “things, actually existing, present to us.” And Gebhardt has: “things, as they now exist, present to us.”

5 Here I follow Meijer and Appuhn. One might compare II, xv, 5.

[I/98] d6 It is clear that since man had a beginning, no attribute is to be found in him other [25] than those which were already in Nature. And since he consists of a body such that there must necessarily be an Idea of it in the thinking thing, and that Idea must necessarily be united with the body, we affirm without hesitation that his soul is nothing [30] but this Idea, in the thinking thing, of this body of his. And because this body has a [proportion of] motion and rest which is determined and continually7 changed by external objects, and because no change can occur in the object, unless the same thing also actually occurs in the Idea, the result is that people feel (reflexive idea). I say “because [35] it has a proportion of motion and rest,” because no action can occur in the body without these two concurring.

6 Previous editors have attached this note to 98/15, as I have. Mignini, without explanation, but with some plausibility, attaches it to 98/3.

7 Adopting a suggestion of Meijer’s. Cf. I/52/25-29.

8 So Gebhardt’s text reads. The ms. has “in the soul.” Mignini retains the ms. reading, since he thinks it unlikely that it represents a copyist’s error. But he agrees that Gebhardt’s reading reproduces the true sense of the text.

[I/99] a It will be the same whether we use the word opinion here, or passion. And so it is [30] clear why we cannot conquer by Reason those which are in us through experience; for these are nothing else in us but an enjoyment of, or immediate union with, something we judge to be good, and though Reason shows us something that is better, it does not [I/100] make us enjoy it. Now what we enjoy in ourselves cannot be conquered by what we [25] do not enjoy and what is outside us, as what Reason shows us is. But if it is to be conquered, there must be something that is more powerful, like an enjoyment of, and [30] immediate union with, what is known to be better than the first and enjoyed more. And when this is present, the conquest is always inevitable. Or [the conquest can come] also from the experience of an evil known to be greater than the good enjoyed and immediately following on it. But experience teaches us that this evil does not always follow necessarily, for etc. See pp. [62/20-63/1; 88/30-89/13].

1 See Spinoza’s note at I/89/22ff.

[I/101] a This explains what we said in the first part, viz. that the infinite intellect must exist [30] in Nature from all eternity, and why we called it the son of God. For since God has existed from eternity, so also must his Idea in the thinking thing, i.e., exist in itself from eternity; this Idea agrees objectively with him. See p. [I/48].

2 Of the ten marginal notes in this chapter only one seems to contain anything of interest. Just above this passage is a note reading: “This knowledge need not be adequate, and why.” What is interesting here is the use of the term adequate (evenmatig), which otherwise does not seem to occur in the Short Treatise.

3 Gebhardt emends the text to read: “the union of the idea with the thinking thing …” in order to avoid an equation between the thing and God. Mignini points out that the equation of the thinking thing with God would be no more acceptable. To read the “or” as indicating an equivalence is probably to miss the point of the passage, which foreshadows the argument for immortality in II, xxiii.

b I.e., our soul being an Idea of the body, it has its first being from the body, for it [35] is only a representation of the body, both of the whole and of the parts, in the thinking thing. [Bracketed by Gebhardt, and generally regarded as a reader’s comment.]

4 The reference of the pronoun may be either to the idea, as Mignini thinks (cf. §§ 4 and 5) or to the soul, as Meier thought (cf. § 1). In any case, there seems to be no need to emend the text, as Gebhardt and others have done, to read: “we are united.”

1 A suggestion of Monnikhoff’s.

2 The manuscript here, if it is correct, might be translated: “So what is alone the cause of its essence must also be (when it comes to perish) the cause of its non-essence, because it itself comes to perish.” Everyone agrees that the ms. cannot be right as it stands. Most editors (Wolf, Meijer, Appuhn, Sigwart, Mignini, and Gebhardt himself in his translation) have emended “essence” (wezenheid) and “non-essence” (niet wezenheid) to “existence” (wezenlijkheid) and “non-existence” (niet wezenlijkheid).

In his edition, however, Gebhardt (followed by the Pléiade editors) retained “essence” and “non-essence,” and changed “because” (omdat) to “if” (indien). His reasoning seems to have been as follows: (1) if the phrase “what is alone the cause” referred to the body, “essence” would have to be emended to “existence” and “because” would be unobjectionable; (2) but if the phrase refers to God, then “essence” is correct and “because” cannot be right; (3) since the context suggests that the reference is to God, “essence” should be retained and the last clause made conditional (apparently conjecturing a mistranslation of a cum in the Latin original).

Mignini contends that (4) since God can never change or perish, “what is alone the cause” cannot refer to God, but must refer in general to the cause of the soul’s existence; (5) only the existence of the body can be the cause of the soul’s existence; (6) the essences of things are eternal; and (7) the copyist often writes wezenheid instead of wezenlijkheid. Mignini thus seems to accept Gebhardt’s (1) and (2).

I would say that while “essence” is possible, other things equal, if “what is alone the cause” refers to God, since God is the sole cause of the essences of things, it is not necessary, since the argument is proceeding on the assumption that in appropriate circumstances God can also be the sole cause of a thing’s existence. I take it that the whole passage (from 1. 12) is conducted on the hypothesis of union with God, which is equivalent to hypothesizing that God is the only cause of the soul’s existence. These hypotheses represent possibilities. That God should change or perish is admittedly an impossibility. But the point of the argument, I think, is to deduce from that impossibility the impossibility of the soul’s perishing if it can unite itself with God. For further discussion, relating this argument to what I claim is a revised and improved version of it in II, xxvi, and to the Second Dialogue, which I suggest is a response to its problems, see Curley 1.

1 A marginal note (relegated by Gebhardt to the textual commentary) at this point reads: “What then remains for me to treat, viz. whether there is a love of God for man.”

2 A marginal note at this point reads: “How this nevertheless must not be understood to seem an absurdity.”

3 A marginal note at this point reads: “Thus God also does not makes laws for man, to reward him when he has performed them. For the laws of God, if one wants to call by this name the rules that are in Nature, can not be transgressed.”

4 So the text runs. Gebhardt, in company with others, saw it as needing the following explanation: “When the laws of Nature come in conflict with those of man, then since the laws of Nature are more powerful, the laws of man are destroyed.”

5 This passing remark is strikingly different from the general tone of the Ethics. Cf., for example, E IVP35C1, C2 and S. One might see in this difference a symptom of Spinoza’s mood at the time of composing this work. Cf. Feuer 1, chap. 2.

6 Spinoza probably has in mind Exodus 20:2, a text he will also discuss in the TTP III/18/21ff.), though there are certainly other candidates (e.g., Exodus 6:7). Francès, comparing the discussion in the KV with that in the TTP, comments that the former is direct, but summary, whereas the latter is so diplomatic and conciliatory that some commentators have mistaken Spinoza’s true thought.

7 Monnikhoff has: “… they must have known previously that God existed before they could be sure that it was God [who was speaking to them].” Most editors seem to have favored the ms. reading, but I think Monnikhoff has made an improvement.

8 Freudenthal 2, 247, notes the inconsistency of this section (and II, xix, 14) with I, i, which allows the possibility of an a posteriori proof of God’s existence. He offers this as evidence of the unfinished state of the Short Treatise.

1 The phrase “essence and divinity” is unusual and the Pléiade editors conjecture a possible misreading of divinitas for realitas on the part of the Dutch translator, though they acknowledge that the manuscript may well have read divinitas. Opinion is divided on the question whether Spinoza’s doctrine here is consistent with E IIP30D. Cf. Wolf 2, 234 and Appuhn, 1:414.

1 Monnikhoff has simply “how, by the fourth kind of knowledge.” Wolf conjectured that this was because he had noticed that it had not been shown how our happiness might be attained through reason. Freudenthal saw the mention of reason as an editor’s attempt to resolve the contradiction mentioned in II, i, 1, n. 1.

2 The ms. does not make clear what is being destroyed. Some translators (Appuhn, the Pléiade editors, Gebhardt) have supposed that it was simply ignorance. I follow Meijer.

3 An echo of a Talmudic parable (Babylonian Talmud, Berachot 61b), details of which are given in Wolf 2, 235.

4 It is most natural, perhaps, to take syne liefde to refer to God’s love for man. But previously (I/103-104) we have had a denial that God can properly be said to love man and the contrary is not plainly asserted elsewhere in this work. If our ms. is indeed a translation of a Latin original, the Latin would probably be ambiguous. In the Ethics, Spinoza’s consistency on this point is disputed. Cf. A. E. Taylor.

5 Meijer thought that this and the following two sections were probably later insertions. Linguistic symptoms of this, perhaps, are: the use of the term gewrocht, the normal translation of effectus in Spinoza’s other works, but rare in the Short Treatise (occurring otherwise only in Second Dialogue, which is also thought to be a later addition and which comments on these sections, and at I/107/8); the use of the term doening for actio (rather than werking), which occurs only here. Cf. Curley 1.

a The bondage of a thing consists in being subjected to external causes; freedom, on the contrary, in being freed of them, not subjected to them. [Bracketed by Gebhardt as probably a reader’s summary.]

6 I render this literally, at the suggestion of an anonymous reader of the ms. of this translation, who thought it desirable to “bring out the Pauline resonance perhaps intended by Spinoza.”

7 A marginal note at this point reads: “The reader should attend well to this and also to what follows from it, for on it depend things of great importance regarding the conduct of man’s life.”

8 This concluding section of the work makes it clear that it was written in the first instance, not for publication but for circulation among Spinoza’s friends. It also appears that the friends would be at some distance from Spinoza, prompting the hypothesis that at least the concluding portions of the work, and possibly all of it, were written after Spinoza took up residence in Rijnsburg, for the benefit of friends in Amsterdam. This much, I think, would be generally agreed.

There is, however, a marginal note at this point which has led to much theorizing, but no consensus: “The author’s request to those for whom, at their request, he has dictated [?gedicteert] this treatise, and with it the conclusion of everything.” This note was a key item in Gebhardt’s theory that our manuscript of the Short Treatise had its origin in a dictation. (See Preface, p. 50.) Mignini argues at length (Mignini 1, 432-435) that dicteren may not have its literal meaning here, that it may be a literal translation of the Latin dictare, which may also mean compose or have written out, as well as dictate. If this conjecture is correct, it would have the advantage of removing an apparent contradiction between the note (which does not appear to be by Spinoza) and the text on which it comments, according to which the work is one Spinoza wrote.

1 This appendix is not designated as such in the manuscript and is generally believed to be posterior to the main body of the Treatise. As Appuhn remarks, it is not so much an addition to the Treatise as the first draft of another work, explaining similar ideas in a different form (cf. also Letter 2). Meijer thought, on grounds of style, that Spinoza might have written this appendix in Dutch. (We have Spinoza’s own testimony that he did not write Dutch very fluently, and the style of the appendix is awkward.) On the other hand, others (Gebhardt and Sigwart) have seen in this appendix errors to be explained by mistranslation of the Latin original. (Three of the eleven passages Gebhardt cites and Boehm disputes come from this appendix.)

2 The ms. has toevallen—the usual term for accidens—followed by the Latin term modificationes in parentheses. There is also a hint that our ms. at this stage may not be the work of a copyist. The ms. has: “Substance is prior to by its nature prior to all its modification.” The first “prior to” is then crossed out.

3 I.e., they have nothing in common with one another.

4 The manuscript has: “are maintained” which has seemed to some to make A7 an idle repetition of A1. Meijer, adverting to the note at I/119/34-35, proposed reading “distinguished” (onderscheiden for onderhouden) and this emendation has been accepted by both Gebhardt and Mignini. Wolf suspected A7 of being a reader’s comment on A1, inadvertently incorporated in the text by an uncritical copyist. But this was based partly on the (incorrect) belief that A7 is not used in what follows (see I/115/4).

5 Monnikhoff: “or (what is the same) in nature, no two substances of one and the same nature can be posited.” This makes P1 much closer to its analogue in the Ethics (E IP5).

6 This reference is omitted in Van Vloten and Land and in Wolf.

7 The ms. has A3. Gebhardt and Mignini, following Boehmer, emend to A2, though it is not clear to me that this is an improvement.

a The mode I call the most immediate mode of the attribute is that which, in order to exist, needs no other mode in the same attribute.

1 This sentence seems defective in the ms. Gebhardt takes it to mean: “… it is necessary that of everything which is produced in thought, there is in reality an infinite idea, which contains in itself objectively the whole of Nature, as it is in itself.” But Monnikhoff’s reading seems more likely to me and I have followed it, in company with most other editors. For argument see Mignini 1, 435.

2 In the ms. this paragraph comes at I/119/20, after “… of one infinite being.” Gebhardt, following Freudenthal, argues that it belongs here. Mignini argues for retaining the order of the ms.

3 The ms. here adds in parentheses an explanation which many editors, including Gebhardt and Van Vloten and Land, have omitted: “I mean the modification.” Mignini restores it to the text.

b For things are distinguished by what is first in their nature, but this essence of things is prior to their existence, therefore. [This note, which was omitted by Sigwart, Vloten-Land, and Wolf, and retrieved by Meijer, is printed without brackets by Gebhardt. Appuhn takes its sense to be that the existence of attributes, unlike that of modes, follows necessarily from their essence.]

4 Monnikhoff has: “as being thus united with its object.” Some (e.g., Sigwart, Appuhn) have thought that originally the text may have read: “and in this its union with the object consists.”

5 This suggests that as early as the Short Treatise Spinoza conceived of thought as coextensive with all the other attributes, and hence more ‘extensive’ than any one taken singly—i.e., that what some have seen as a damaging admission made in response to the criticism of Tschirnhaus was an acknowledged part of the theory all along. Cf. Joachim 1, 134f. But see below I/119/24n.

6 As Appuhn suggests, this probably means that because the attributes exist through themselves, in them essence and existence are identical.

7 Both Appuhn and the Pléiade editors have: “there is no inequality between the attributes.” Gueroult (1, 2: 99n) rejects this, partly on linguistic grounds, partly because he takes the attributes to be incommensurable.

Letters

AUGUST 1661–AUGUST 1663

EDITORIAL PREFACE

SPINOZA’S correspondence, as the editors of his Opera posthuma recognized, makes a very important contribution to our understanding of his work. Just how important is well illustrated in the letters in this first section. We find transitional sketches of the material later contained in Part I of the Ethics, showing considerable development from the axiomatic appendix to the Short Treatise (Letters 2-4) and helping us to understand how (at one stage, at least) Spinoza understood such key definitions as those of substance and attribute (Letters 2, 4, and 9), discussions of the nature of definition (Letters 3, 4, and 8-10), and an important letter on the problem of infinity (Letter 12).1 These letters also remind us that in the seventeenth-century correspondence was not always a private communication between the sender and the receiver. Important letters (like 6, 9, and 12) often had considerable circulation and should be regarded as the forerunners of today’s journal articles.

But beyond what they add to our understanding of works intended for formal publication, the letters also shed light on sides of Spinoza we would know little or nothing about from these other works. We find him communicating (via Oldenburg) with Boyle about the latter’s work in chemistry (Letters 6, 11, 13, and 16); we learn about an unrealized plan to publish the Short Treatise, in conjunction, probably, with the Treatise on the Emendation of the Intellect (Letter 6), and why he chose instead to publish his exposition of Descartes first (Letter 13); and we get considerable insight into his relations with his friends (Letters 8, 9, 12a, 13, and 15). The picture that emerges is not that of the recluse often portrayed, but of a man who maintained a lively interest in current intellectual affairs and close connections, by letters and frequent visits, with a small but devoted band of friends in Amsterdam. (For most of this period Spinoza lived in Rijnsburg, a small village near the important university center of Leiden; in late April 1663 he moved to Voorburg, a suburb of The Hague.)

The correspondence presented in this section is effectively with four men:

Henry Oldenburg (c. 1618-1677) was born in Bremen, where he studied theology, receiving his master’s degree in 1639, with a thesis on the relations between Church and state. Most of his adult life was spent in England, where he was occupied partly in diplomatic work, partly in teaching (one of his pupils being a nephew of Boyle), but mainly with the secretaryship of the Royal Society, a position he held from 1662 until his death.

His meeting with Spinoza on a trip to the Continent in 1661 is thought to have been suggested by a relative, Johannes Koch (Coccejus), a professor of theology at the University of Leiden. We have far more letters between Spinoza and Oldenburg than we do between him and.any other correspondent, but there was a long break in their correspondence between 1665 and 1675, and the tone of Oldenburg’s letters changes markedly after 1675. In the interim he had spent two months imprisoned in the Tower of London for espionage and had read Spinoza’s Theological-Political Treatise, neither very pleasant experiences, it seems.

At this writing nine volumes of his extensive correspondence have been published (see Oldenburg in the bibliography). These cover the period from 1662-1673, and the first volume contains a substantial biographical sketch.

Robert Boyle (1627-1691), the seventh son of the Earl of Cork, and thus a member of a large, wealthy, and influential family, was the leading British scientist of the period between Bacon and Newton. An ‘amateur’ scientist in the best sense of that term, he was, from about 1654, a member of the group of Baconians centered in Oxford who were subsequently to be incorporated as the Royal Society.

His first important scientific publication, New Experiments Physico-Mechanial, Touching the Spring of the Air and its Effects (Boyle 1), stemmed from his interest in von Guericke’s recently discovered air pump. A model of the experimental method, and soon to lead Boyle to the law relating the pressure and volume of gases which bears his name, this work is most helpfully discussed in Conant. It is on this work that his reputation as a scientist is most securely based.

More characteristic, however, is the work Oldenburg sent to Spinoza, Certain Physiological Essays (Boyle 2), with its attempt to illustrate the principles of the mechanical philosophy by chemical experiments. On this general program, and for an excellent overview of Boyle’s life and work, see Hall 1. A more detailed treatment, concentrating on Boyle’s work in chemistry, and his role in paving the way for the eighteenth-century revolution in that field, is Hall 2. For a specific discussion of the interchange between Boyle and Spinoza, see Hall 3.

In addition to his scientific interests, Boyle was much concerned with the relation between science and religion (he held that science was not only compatible with Christianity but encouraged an appreciation of God’s works) and with the propagation of (preferably Protestant) Christianity. The Boyle lectures established in his will were to defend the truth of that religion against infidels. As Wolf observes, at least two series of Boyle lectures were directed against Spinoza, Samuel Clarke’s in 1704 and B. Guerdon’s in 1721-1722.

Simon de Vries (c. 1633-1667) was a well-to-do Amsterdam merchant, who belonged, as did many of Spinoza’s closest friends, to the Collegiants, a sect of Quaker-like dissenters, who were persecuted by the dominant Calvinist clergy. His regard for Spinoza is indicated by two stories, each told by both of Spinoza’s early biographers, Colerus and Lucas.

On one occasion de Vries wanted to give Spinoza 2,000 florins to enable him to live more comfortably. Spinoza declined on the ground that he needed no money and that if he received so large a sum, it would divert him from his studies.

Later, approaching death and having neither wife nor children, de Vries wanted to make Spinoza his sole heir. Spinoza again declined, this time on the ground that the money ought, in justice, to go to de Vries’ brother. After failing to get Spinoza to accept an annuity of 500 florins from the estate, he finally prevailed on him to accept 300 (or 250, on some accounts). The classic work on such members of the Spinoza circle is Meinsma.

Lodewijk Meyer (1629-1681) was born in Amsterdam and from 1654 studied philosophy and medicine at the University of Leiden, where he became an ardent Cartesian. After receiving doctorates in both subjects in 1660, he practiced medicine in Amsterdam and played an important part in Dutch letters. In 1654 he had assisted with the second edition of Hofman’s Nederlandsche woordenschat, a dictionary of foreign terms used in Dutch. From the fifth edition of this much used work (1669), it appeared under his name, and in the judgment of Thijssen-Schoute, “codified a scientific language of great purity.” A writer of poetry and plays and an admirer of French classicism, from 1665 to 1669 he was director of the Amsterdam theater. In 1669, in company with others, he formed an artistic society, Nil Volentibus Arduum (Nothing is difficult for those who have the will).

Meyer’s association with Spinoza began, perhaps, as early as the days when Spinoza assisted van den Enden in the teaching of Latin. Meyer may have helped not only with the publication of Descartes’ Principles (see Letters 12a, 13, and 15, and his preface to that work), but also with the publication of the Opera posthuma. His Philosophia S. Scripturae interpres, first published anonymously in 1666, and in 1674 published bound with Spinoza’s Theological-Political Treatise, argued a thesis Spinoza rejected in his own work: that the true philosophy is an infallible norm for the interpretation of Holy Scripture. According to some reports he was present at Spinoza’s death.

Apart from the work of Meinsma, see Thijssen-Schoute 1 and 2.

Spinoza’s correspondence presents special problems for the editor. Of the eighty-eight letters contained in the most recent edition of his correspondence (AHW), we possess autographs of twenty, thirteen of them from Spinoza and seven to Spinoza. Some of these give us an additional source for letters already known through the OP and the NS. This is helpful in that it gives us an insight into the work done by the editors on Spinoza’s manuscript, but it also raises difficult problems about the relative authority of the various versions. Gebhardt regarded Spinoza as being, in effect, the editor of his own correspondence, as having himself reworked and prepared for publication the Latin versions of letters written originally in Latin, and as having translated into Latin some of the letters written originally in Dutch (including some letters written to him in Dutch). While there is no doubt that some of the variations between the autographs and the published letters are Spinoza’s work (e.g., in Letter 6), it seems unlikely that Spinoza did anywhere near as much work on the published versions as Gebhardt assumed. In some cases—in the opinion of Akkerman, Hubbeling and Westerbrink, whose judgment on this point I accept—Gebhardt’s view is demonstrably incorrect.

What, then, did Spinoza’s first editors contribute?2 They made the letters ready for the press by (i) introducing a heading giving the number of the letter and the names and titles of the author and the recipient (though often shortening the name to initials, sometimes deleting it altogether, and always indicating Spinoza by his initials); (ii) formalizing the salutation; (iii) introducing punctuation and capital letters (Spinoza’s punctuation is unorthodox and in his autographs he rarely uses capitals even for the beginning of a sentence); (iv) correcting the spelling and polishing the style;3 (v) omitting details of biographical rather than philosophical interest; and (vi) suppressing the names of third parties. Since Spinoza’s Dutch was less accurate than his Latin, the Dutch letters required more substantial reworking than the Latin ones, but the NS’s Dutch versions of letters written originally in Dutch were not the result of translating back into Dutch the Latin translation.

All the letters presented in this section were written originally in Latin. For Letters 1-5, 7, 10, 11, 13, 14, and 16, our sources are the OP and the NS, and in these cases I translate the text of the OP, noting occasional variations in the NS.

Letters 12a (a very recent discovery) and 15 are known only through autographs.

For Letters 6, 8, and 9 we have three sources: the OP, the NS and an autograph. For Letter 12 our third source is a copy made by Leibniz. Where there is a third source for one of Spinoza’s letters, Gebhardt generally prints it beneath the OP text, which results in fewer lines of text per page. For Letter 8, Gebhardt gives only the autograph. Following AHW I translate the OP text of Letters 6 and 12 and the autograph text of Letters 8 and 9. Interesting variations from the autograph of 6 and from Leibniz’s copy of 12 are introduced by ‘A’ and ‘LC.’

[IV/5] LETTER 1
HENRY OLDENBURG TO THE ESTEEMED B. D. S.

Esteemed Sir, Dear Friend,

When I visited you recently in your retreat at Rijnsburg, I found it so difficult to tear myself away from your side, that now that I am back in England I hasten to reunite myself with you, so far as is [15] possible, even if it is only by correspondence. Knowledge of things of enduring importance, combined with kindness and graciousness (all of which Nature and your own Diligence have most abundantly enriched you with), have in them such charms that they must win for themselves the love of any honorable man, educated as becomes a free man. [20] Come, then, most Excellent Sir, let us bind ourselves to one another in unfeigned friendship, and let us cultivate that friendship assiduously, with every kind of good will and service. What I, in my weakness, can provide, you may consider yours. As for the gifts of mind which you possess, let me claim a share in them, since that can be done without loss to you.

[25] In Rijnsburg we talked about God, about infinite Extension and [IV/6] Thought, about the difference and agreement of these attributes, about the way the human soul is united with the body, and about the Principles of the Cartesian Philosophy and of the Baconian. But since we spoke then as if through a lattice1 and only in passing about matters [5] of such great importance, and in the meantime those things all torment me, I now undertake, by right of the friendship we have entered into, to engage you in discussion, and cordially ask you to explain to me somewhat more fully your views concerning the subjects I have mentioned.

In particular I should like to be instructed on these two points: first, [10] in what do you place the true distinction between Extension and Thought; second, what defects do you find in the Philosophy of Descartes and [in that] of Bacon, and how do you judge that they can be removed and replaced by sounder views. The more frankly you write to me on these and similar matters, the more closely you will bind me to you, and oblige me very strongly to return like services, if only I can.

[15] Here there is now in the press a work, Certain Physiological Essays, written by an English Noble of exceptional learning.2 It treats of the nature of air and its Elasticity, proved by forty-three experiments; of Fluidity, Solidity and the like. As soon as it has been printed, I shall see that it is delivered to you by a Friend, who may be crossing the sea.

[20] Meanwhile, farewell, and remember your friend, who is

Yours in all love and devotion,
Henry Oldenburg

London 16/26 August 1661

[IV/7] LETTER 2
B. D. S. TO THE VERY NOBLE AND LEARNED H. OLDENBURG

Reply to the preceding

Esteemed Sir,

How pleasing your friendship is to me, you yourself will be able to judge if only you can prevail on your modesty to allow you to consider the excellences in which you abound. When I consider them, I seem [10] to myself rather presumptuous, to dare to enter into friendship with you (particularly when I think that friends must share all things,3 especially spiritual things). Nevertheless, this step must be ascribed to your courtesy and good will, rather than to me. The former is so great that you have been willing to belittle yourself, the latter so abundant [15] that you have been willing to enrich me, that I might not fear to enter into the close friendship you continue to offer me and deign to ask of me in return. I shall take great care to cultivate it zealously.

As for any mental endowments I may possess, I would gladly let you claim them for yourself, even if I knew that it would be greatly [20] to my detriment. But lest I seem in this way to wish to deny you what you ask of me, by the right of friendship, I shall try to explain what I think concerning the matters we discussed, though I do not think this will be a means of binding you more closely to me, unless your generosity intervenes.

I shall begin, then, by speaking briefly about

[D1] God, whom I define as a Being consisting of infinite attributes, [25] each of which is infinite, or supremely perfect in its kind.

Here it should be noted that

[D2] By attribute I understand whatever is conceived through itself and in itself, so that its concept does not involve the concept of another thing.4

For example, Extension is conceived through itself and in itself, but [IV/8] motion is not. For it is conceived in another and its concept involves Extension.

That [D1] is a true definition of God is clear from the fact that by God we understand a Being supremely perfect and absolutely infinite. Moreover, it is easy to demonstrate from this definition5 that such a [5] being exists. Since this is not the place for it, I shall omit the demonstration. But what I must show here, to answer satisfactorily your first question [concerning the true distinction between extension and thought] are the following:

[P1] That two substances cannot exist in nature unless they differ in their whole essence;

[P2] That a substance cannot be produced, but that it is of its essence to exist;

[10] [P3] That every substance must be infinite, or supremely perfect in its kind.

Once I have demonstrated these things, then (provided you attend to the definition of God), you will easily be able to see what I am aiming at, so it is not necessary to speak more openly about these matters. But I can think of no better way of demonstrating these things clearly [15] and briefly than to prove them in the Geometric manner and subject them to your understanding. So I send them separately with this letter and await your judgment regarding them.6

You ask next what errors I find in the Philosophy of Descartes and of Bacon. Though it is not my custom to uncover the errors of others, [20] I do also want to comply with your wishes. The first and greatest error is that they have wandered so far from knowledge of the first cause and origin of all things. Second, they did not know the true nature of the human Mind. Third, they never grasped the true cause of error. Only those lacking any education or desire for knowledge [25] will fail to see how necessary the true knowledge of these three things is. That they have wandered from knowledge of the first cause and of the human Mind may easily be inferred from the truth of the three propositions mentioned above, so I restrict myself to showing the third error.

I shall say little about Bacon, who speaks quite confusedly about [30] this, and proves hardly anything, but only makes assertions. For he supposes:

(1) That in addition to the deceptiveness of the senses, the human intellect is deceived simply by its own nature, and feigns everything from the analogy of its own nature, not from the analogy of the universe, so that in relation to the rays of things it is like an uneven mirror, which mixes its own nature with the nature of things, etc.7

[IV/9] (2) That the human intellect, of its own nature, is inclined to abstractions, and feigns to be constant things which are fleeting, etc.8

(3) That the human intellect is unquiet, and can neither take a stand nor rest.9

[5] The other causes he assigns can all easily be reduced to the one Descartes gives: the human will is free and wider than the intellect, or, as Bacon himself says, more confusedly (Aphorism 49), the intellect is not a dry light, but is fueled by the will. (It should be noted here that Bacon often takes the intellect for the Mind, in which respect he differs from Descartes.)

[10] Disregarding the other causes, as being of no importance, I shall show that this cause is a false one, which they themselves would easily have seen, if only they had attended to the fact that the will differs from this or that volition in the same way as whiteness differs from this or that white thing, or humanity differs from this or that man. [15] So it is as impossible to conceive that the will is the cause of this or that volition as to conceive that humanity is the cause of Peter and Paul. Since the will, then, is only a being of reason and ought not in any way to be called a cause of this or that volition, since particular volitions cannot be called free (because they require a cause in order to exist) but must be as their causes have determined them to be, and [20] finally since, according to Descartes, the errors themselves are particular volitions, it follows necessarily that the errors (i.e., particular volitions) are not free, but determined by external causes, and not at all by the will. This is what I promised to demonstrate, etc. [Rijnsburg, September 1661]

[IV/10] LETTER 3
HENRY OLDENBURG TO THE ESTEEMED B. D. S.

Excellent Sir, and Dearest Friend,

I have received your very learned letter, and read it through with great pleasure. I approve very much of your geometric style of proof, but at the same time I blame my own obtuseness that I do not follow so easily the things you teach so exactly. Please, then, let me give you [10] evidence of my slowness by putting the following Problems to you, and seeking their solutions.

First, do you understand clearly and without doubt that, merely from the definition you give of God, it is demonstrated that such a Being exists? When I reflect that definitions contain only our Mind’s [15] concepts, that our Mind conceives many things which do not exist, and that it is most fruitful in multiplying and increasing things once they have been conceived, I do not yet see how I can infer God’s existence from the concept I have of him. To be sure, from the mental [20] collection of all the perfections I find in men, animals, vegetables, minerals, etc., I can form a conception of some one substance which really possesses all those virtues; indeed my Mind is capable of multiplying and increasing them to infinity, so that it can conjure up in itself a most perfect and excellent Being. But from this one cannot at [25] all infer the existence of such a Being.

Second, are you certain that Body is not limited by Thought nor Thought by Body? For the controversy about what Thought is, whether it is a corporeal motion or some spiritual act, entirely different from the corporeal, is still unresolved.

[30] Third, do you regard the axioms you communicated to me as indemonstrable Principles, known by the light of Nature and requiring [IV/11] no proof? Perhaps the first is of that kind, but I do not see how the other three can be so regarded. The second supposes that nothing exists in Nature except Substances and Accidents, but many maintain [5] that time and place are neither. I am so far from conceiving clearly your third axiom—Things which have different attributes have nothing in common with one another—that the whole universe of Things seems rather to prove its contrary. For all Things known to us both differ from one [10] another in some respects and agree in others. Finally, the fourth axiom—If things have nothing in common with one another, one cannot be the cause of the other—is not so evident to my dull intellect that it does not need more light shed on it. Surely God has nothing formally in common with created things, yet nearly all of us regard him as their cause.

[15] Since I do not find these Axioms beyond any shadow of a doubt, you will easily guess that the Propositions you have built on them cannot but totter. And the more I consider them, the more I am overwhelmed by doubts concerning them. For regarding the first, I consider that two men are two Substances, and have the same attribute, [20] since each has the capacity to reason; from that I conclude that there are two Substances of the same attribute. Regarding the second, That a Substance cannot be produced, not even by another Substance, I consider that we can hardly grasp how this could be true, since nothing can be its own cause. This Proposition sets up every Substance as its own [25] cause, and makes them all independent of one another, makes them so many Gods. In this way it denies the first cause of all Things.

I readily confess that I cannot grasp this unless you do me the favor of revealing to me somewhat more straightforwardly and fully your Opinion concerning this lofty matter and teaching me what is the [30] origin and production of Substances, the dependence of things on one another, and their subordination to one another. I entreat you, by the friendship we have entered into, to deal openly and confidently with me in this matter, and I ask you most earnestly to be fully persuaded that whatever things you are pleased to share with me will be safe, [35] and that I will take care that none of them become known to your harm or disadvantage.

[IV/12] In our Philosophical Group10 we devote ourselves as energetically as we can to making experiments and observations, and are much occupied with putting together a History of the Mechanical Arts. For [5] we regard it as settled that the forms and qualities of things can best be explained on Mechanical Principles, that all Nature’s effects are produced by motion, shape, and texture, and their various combinations, and that there is no need for us to seek a refuge for our ignorance in inexplicable forms and occult qualities.

[10] I shall pass along to you the book I promised as soon as your Dutch Ambassadors here send a messenger to The Hague (as they often do), or as soon as some other Friend to whom I can safely entrust it goes that way.

Please excuse my prolixity and frankness; in particular, I ask you to take in good part, as is the custom between friends, the objections I [15] have freely put to you, without any glossing over or courtly refinements. Believe that I am, without pretense or cunning,

Your most devoted,
Henry Oldenburg

London, 27 September 1661

LETTER 4
B. D. S. TO THE MOST NOBLE AND LEARNED HENRY OLDENBURG

Reply to the preceding

Esteemed Sir,

While I was preparing to go to Amsterdam, to spend a week or two [IV/13] there, I received your very welcome letter and saw your objections to the three Propositions I sent you. I shall try to satisfy you only on those points, omitting the rest for lack of time.

To the first, then, I say that it is not from the definition of any thing whatever that the existence of the thing defined follows; it follows [5] only (as I demonstrated in the Scholium I attached to the three Propositions) from the definition, or idea, of some attribute, i.e. (as I explained clearly in relation to the definition of God), of a thing which is conceived through itself and in itself. In the Scholium just mentioned, I have also, unless I am mistaken, stated clearly enough the reason for this difference—especially for a Philosopher, who is supposed [10] to know the difference between a fiction and a clear and distinct concept, and the truth of the Axiom that every definition, or clear and distinct idea, is true. Once these things are noted, I do not see what more is lacking for the solution to the first problem.

So I proceed to the solution of the second, where you seem to concede [15] that if Thought does not pertain to the nature of Extension, then Extension will not be limited by Thought, since you raise a doubt only concerning the example. But please note: if someone says that Extension is limited not by Extension, but by Thought, is that not the same as saying that Extension is infinite not absolutely, but only [20] so far as it is Extension? I.e., he does grant me that Extension is not infinite absolutely, but only insofar as it is Extension, i.e., in its own kind.11

But, you say, perhaps thought is a corporeal act. So be it (though I do not grant this). Still, you will not deny that extension, insofar as [25] it is extension, is not thought, which is enough to explain my definition and demonstrate my third proposition.

Your third objection against the things I proposed is that the Axioms ought not to be counted as common Notions.12 I have no quarrel with that. But you also doubt their truth; indeed you seem to want to [30] show that their contrary is more likely. So please attend to the definitions I gave of Substance and of Accident, from which all these [axioms] are derived. For by Substance I understand what is conceived through itself and in itself,13 i.e., that whose concept does not involve the concept of another thing; but by modification, or Accident, what is in another and is conceived through what it is in. From this it is clear that:

[IV/14] [A1] Substance is by nature prior to its Accidents, for without it, they can neither be nor be conceived.

[A2] Except for Substances and Accidents, nothing exists in reality, or outside the intellect,

for whatever there is, is conceived either through itself or through [5] another, and its concept either does or does not involve the concept of another thing,

[A3] Things which have different attributes have nothing in common with one another,

for I have explained that an attribute is that whose concept does not involve the concept of another thing.

[A4] If two things have nothing in common with one another, [10] one cannot be the cause of the other,

for since there would be nothing in the effect which it had in common with the cause, whatever the effect had, it would have from nothing.

As for your contention that God has nothing formally in common with created things, etc., I have maintained the complete opposite of this in my definition. For I have said that God is a Being consisting [15] of infinite attributes, of which each is infinite, or supremely perfect in its kind.

As for your objection to the first Proposition, I ask you, my friend, to consider that men are not created, but only generated, and that their bodies already existed before, though formed differently. It may, indeed, be inferred, as I cheerfully acknowledge, that if one part of [20] matter were annihilated, the whole of Extension would also vanish at the same time.

Moreover, the second Proposition does not make many Gods, but only one, consisting of infinite attributes, etc.

[Rijnsburg, October 1661]

LETTER 5
HENRY OLDENBURG TO THE ESTEEMED B. D. S.

Dearest Friend,

Here is the little book I promised you. Do let me know your judgment of it, particularly regarding the Experiments he has included on [30] Niter, and on Fluidity and Solidity.

[IV/15] Thank you very much for your learned second letter, which I received yesterday. I am very sorry, however, that your trip to Amsterdam prevented you from answering all my doubts. I beg you to send me what you then omitted as soon as your leisure permits. Your [5] last letter illuminated much for me, but not so much as to dispel all the darkness, a result which I believe will happily come to pass when you instruct me clearly and distinctly regarding the true and first origin of things. For so long as it is not clear to me by what cause and how things have begun to be, and by what connection they depend [10] on the first cause (if there is any first cause), everything I hear and read seems to be thrown into confusion. So, Most Learned Sir, I ask you eagerly to hold out a torch for me in this, and not to doubt my loyalty and gratitude.

Your most devoted,
Henry Oldenburg

London, 11/21 October 1661

LETTER 6
B. D. S. TO THE MOST NOBLE AND LEARNED HENRY OLDENBURG

Reply to the Preceding, containing Comments on the Most Noble Robert Boyle’s book on Niter, Fluidity and Solidity

Esteemed sir,

I have received the very able Mr. Boyle’s book,14 and read through it, as much as time allowed. Thank you very much for this gift. I see [IV/16] that I was not wrong to conjecture, when you first promised me this book, that you would trouble yourself so only about matters of great importance. Meanwhile, Most Learned Sir, you want me to send you [5] my judgment of what he has written, which I shall do, as far as my modest capacities allow, by noting certain things which seem to me obscure, or inadequately demonstrated. But because of my other occupations I have not yet been able to read through everything, much less examine it. Here, then, is what I [A: so far] find noteworthy regarding Niter, etc.

On Niter

[10] First, he infers from his experiment concerning the reconstitution of Niter that Niter is something heterogeneous, consisting of fixed and volatile parts, whose nature (so far as the Phenomena are concerned, at least) is nonetheless very different from the nature of the parts of which it is composed, though it arises solely from the mixture of these parts.15 But I would say that for this conclusion to be regarded as [IV/17] valid, a further experiment seems to be required, which would show that Spirit of Niter is not really Niter and cannot be solidified or crystallized without the aid of the alkaline salt.16 Or at least it was necessary to ask whether the quantity of the fixed salt that remains in the crucible is found to be always the same when the quantity of Niter [5] is the same and to vary in proportion to the quantity of the Niter.

As for what the Distinguished Author says he observed with the aid of the scale (§ 9),17 and the fact that the Phenomena of the spirit of Niter are so different from those of the Niter (and indeed, in some cases contrary to them), in my opinion at least, these do nothing to confirm his conclusion.

[10] To make this clear, I shall set out briefly what occurs to me as the simplest explanation of this [A, NS: phenomenon] of the reconstitution of Niter, and at the same time add two or three quite easy experiments which to some extent confirm this explanation. To explain this Phenomenon as simply as possible, then, I shall posit no other [15] difference between the spirit of Niter and the Niter itself except what is manifest enough: the particles of the Niter are at rest, whereas those of the spirit of Niter, having been considerably stirred up, keep one another in motion.

I shall suppose that the fixed salt does nothing to constitute the essence of Niter, but shall consider it to be the impurities of Niter [IV/18] (from which I find that not even the spirit of Niter is [A: completely] free: though [A: much] reduced in size, the impurities float in it abundantly enough).

This salt, or these impurities, have pores, or passages, hollowed out in them, of the size of the particles of Niter. But when the particles of niter were driven out of them by the force of the fire, some of the [5] passages became narrower and consequently others were forced to dilate, and the very substance, or walls, of these passages were made rigid, and at the same time very brittle. So when the spirit of Niter was dropped on the salt, some of the spirit’s particles began to penetrate forcibly through those narrower passages. And since the particles [10] are of unequal thickness (as Descartes has demonstrated, not badly),18 they first bent the rigid walls of the passages like a bow, and then broke them. When they broke them, they forced those fragments to spring back; since they retained the motion they had, they remained as incapable of solidifying or crystallizing as before. Some [A, NS: [15] particles of the spirit of niter] penetrated through wider passages; since they did not touch the walls of these passages, they were necessarily surrounded by a very fine matter, were driven upwards by it (in the same way the parts of wood are by flame or heat) and flew off in smoke. If they were plentiful enough, or if they mixed with the fragments [IV/19] of the walls and the particles entering through the narrower passages, they formed droplets flying upwards. But if, with the aid of watera or air, the fixed salt is loosened and made more flexible, then it is sufficiently able to restrain the impetus of the particles of [A: spirit [5] of] Niter and to force them to lose the motion they had, and come to rest again (just as a cannonball loses its motion when it hits sand or mud). The reconstitution of Niter consists simply in this coming to rest of the particles of spirit of Niter. To bring it about, the fixed salt is used [A: only] as an instrument, as is plain from this explanation.

So far we have spoken about the reconstitution. Now, if you please, [10] let us see (i) why the Niter and the spirit of Niter differ so in taste, and (ii) why the Niter is inflammable and the spirit of Niter is not in any way.

(i) To understand the first, it must be noted that bodies in motion never meet other bodies with their largest surfaces, whereas bodies at [15] rest lie on others on their largest surfaces. So if the particles of Niter [IV/20] are put on the tongue while they are at rest, they lie on it on their largest surfaces. In this way they block its pores, which is the cause of the cold. Moreover the Niter cannot be dissolved by the saliva into such small particles [A: as it is with the help of the fire]. But if these particles are put on the tongue while they are in violent motion, they [5] will meet it on their more pointed surfaces and will penetrate through its pores. The more violent their motion, the more sharply they will prick the tongue. The different sensations are produced in the same way as if a needle encountered the tongue point-first, or lay on it lengthwise.

(ii) The reason why the Niter is inflammable, whereas the spirit is [10] not, is that it is more difficult for the fire to carry the particles of Niter upwards when they are at rest than when they have their own motion in all directions. So when they are at rest, they resist the fire until it separates them from one another and surrounds them on every side. But when it surrounds them, it takes them with it this way and that, [15] until they acquire their own motion and go up in smoke. But since the particles of the spirit of Niter are already in motion and separated from one another, they are [A: immediately] spread out over a greater [IV/21] volume by a little heat from the fire. So before they are completely surrounded by the flame some go up in smoke and others penetrate through the matter which feeds the fire. Hence they extinguish the fire rather than maintain it.

I shall proceed now to the experiments that seem to confirm this [5] explanation [A: of the phenomenon]. First, I find that the particles of Niter that go up in smoke with a crackling noise are pure niter. More than once when I melted the Niter until the crucible was hot enough to be glowing and kindled it with a live coal, I collected its smoke in a cold glass flask until the flask was moist with smoke19 and afterwards [10] moistened it further with my breath. Finally I put it out in the cold airb to let it dry. When it was dry, little icicles of Niter appeared here and there in the flask.

It might be suspected that this did not occur from the volatile particles alone, but that perhaps the flame carried with it (to [IV/22] speak according to the Distinguished Gentleman’s opinion) whole parts of the Niter, and drove out fixed particles together with the volatile, before they were dissolved. To remove this suspicion, I made the smoke go up through a chimneylike tube more than a foot long (like A), so that the heavier parts would stick to [5] the tube, and I would collect only the more volatile ones passing through the more narrow opening B [A: and I also took a small quantity of niter, so that the flame would be lower and less violent]. The experiment turned out as I have said.

But I did not wish to stop here. To examine the matter further, I took a larger quantity of Niter, melted it, and ignited it with a live [10] coal. As before, I put the tube, A, over the crucible. As long as the flame lasted, I held a piece of a mirror close to the opening, B. A certain material stuck to it, which became liquid when it was exposed to the air [A: from which I immediately conjectured that it consisted only of fixed parts]. Though I waited several days, I could not observe [A: any little icicle of niter, nor] any effect of Niter. But after I poured [15] in spirit of Niter, it was [A: immediately] changed into Niter.

From this I seem to be able to infer: (i) that in the melting the fixed [IV/23] parts are separated from the volatile parts and that the flame drives them upward, still separated from one another; (ii) that after the fixed parts are separated from the volatile ones with a crackling noise, they cannot be reunited; from this I infer (iii) that the parts which stuck to the flask and coalesced into little icicles were not fixed, but only volatile.20

[5] The second experiment seems to show that the fixed parts are only impurities in the Niter; I find that the more it is purified, the more volatile it is, and the more apt to crystallize. For when I put crystals of purified or filtered Niter in a glass goblet, like A, and poured in a little cold water, it [10] partly evaporated with the cold water, and those particles which escaped stuck to the rim of the glass and coalesced into little icicles.

The third experiment seems to indicate that, when the particles of spirit of Niter lose their motion, they are made inflammable. I trickled [15] drops of spirit of Niter in a damp paper bag and then added sand. The spirit of Niter immediately penetrated through the openings in the sand. After the sand had absorbed all, or nearly all, of the spirit of Niter, I dried it thoroughly over a fire in the same bag. That done, I removed the sand and put the paper on a live coal. As soon as it [IV/24] caught fire it gave off sparks in the same way it usually does when it has absorbed Niter itself.

If I had had the opportunity to experiment further, I would have added other things, which perhaps would make the matter completely clear. But because I am entirely occupied with other matters, with your indulgence I shall put this off till another time and proceed to [5] the other things to be noted.

In § 5, where the Distinguished Gentleman deals in passing with the shape of the particles of Niter, he finds fault with Modern Writers for having misrepresented it. I don’t know whether he means Descartes also, but if so, perhaps he criticizes Descartes because of what [10] others have said. For Descartes was not speaking of particles such as can be seen with the eyes. Nor do I think [A: And I would really be surprised if] the Distinguished Gentleman means that if the little icicles of Niter were rubbed until they were changed into parallelepipeds, or into any other shape, they would [A: lose their own nature and] cease to be Niter.21 But perhaps he is referring to some of those Chemists who admit nothing but what they can see with their eyes or [15] touch with their hands.

Regarding § 9, if this experiment could be made accurately, it would completely confirm what I wished to infer from the first experiment mentioned above.

[IV/25] In §§ 13-18 the Distinguished Gentleman tries to show that all the tangible qualities22 depend only on motion, shape, and the remaining mechanical affections. Since he does not present these demonstrations as Mathematical, it is not necessary to examine whether they are completely [5] convincing.23 But meanwhile, I don’t know why the Distinguished Gentleman strives so anxiously to infer this from his experiment, since it has already been more than adequately demonstrated by Bacon and later by Descartes. Nor do I see that this experiment offers us more illuminating evidence than others which are readily enough available.

[10] For as far as heat is concerned, is the same [conclusion]24 not just as clear from the fact that if two pieces of wood are rubbed together, though they are cold, they produce a flame simply from that motion? or that if lime is sprinkled with water, it becomes hot? As for sound, I do not see that anything more remarkable is to be found in this [15] experiment25 than in the boiling of ordinary water and in many other things. Regarding the Color [A: which was changed when the spirit of niter was added], to restrict myself to things which are provable, I shall say only that we see all green plants changing into so many and such different colors. Again, if bodies that give off a foul smell are shaken, they give off a still more offensive smell, particularly if they [IV/26] become somewhat warm. Finally, sweet wine is changed into vinegar, and similarly with many other things.

So (if one may use Philosophic freedom)c I would judge all these things to be superfluous. I say this because I fear that others, who love the Distinguished [5] Gentleman less than they should, may judge him wrongly.

§ 24. I have already spoken about the cause of this Phenomenon [see IV/18/15-19/6]. Here I add only that I have also found by experience that particles of the fixed salt float in those saline drops. For when they flew upwards, they struck against the piece of glass I had [10] made ready for this and had warmed somewhat, so that any volatile [particle] that stuck to the glass would fly off. When this was done, I observed a thick whitish material sticking to the glass here and there.

In § 2526 the Distinguished Gentleman seems to wish to demonstrate that the alkaline parts are carried here and there by the impulse27 [15] of the saline particles, but that the saline particles raise themselves into the air by their own impulse.

In explaining this Phenomenon I have said that the particles of Spirit of Niter acquire a more violent motion because, when they enter wider passages, they must necessarily be surrounded by a very fine matter [IV/27] and driven upwards by it, as particles of wood are by fire, but that the alkaline particles receive their motion from the impulse of particles of Spirit of Niter penetrating through the narrower passages. Here I add that pure water cannot so easily dissolve and loosen the fixed [5] parts. So it is no wonder that when you drop Spirit of Niter on the solution of that fixed salt dissolved in water, there is an effervescence such as the Distinguished Gentleman recounts in § 24. Indeed, I think this effervescence will be more violent than if the Spirit of Niter is dropped on the fixed salt while it is still intact. For in the water it is [10] dissolved into very minute molecules, which can be divided more easily and moved more freely than when all the parts of the salt lie on one another and adhere firmly to one another.

§ 26. I have already spoken of the taste of the acid Spirit. So only the alkali remains to be discussed. When I put it on my tongue, I felt [15] heat, followed by a prickling. This indicates to me that it is some kind of lime. For in the same way that lime becomes hot with the aid of water, so this salt becomes warm with the aid of saliva, or sweat, or Spirit of Niter, or perhaps even of moist air.28

[IV/28] § 27. It does not immediately follow that if a particle of matter is joined to another it acquires a new shape; it only follows that it becomes larger, and this suffices to bring about what the Distinguished Gentleman is inquiring about in this section [A: that it corrodes gold].29

[5] § 33. I shall say what I think of the Distinguished Gentleman’s manner of philosophizing, after I see the Dissertation mentioned here and in the Proemial Essay, p. 23.30

On Fluidity

§ 1: It is manifest enough that [fluidity and firmness [i.e., solidity]] are to be reckoned among the most general affections [of the conventions or associations of several particles of matter into bodies of any certain denomination, there being scarce any distinct portion of matter in the world that is not either fluid, [10] or else stable or consistent.]31 I would think that notions derived from ordinary usage, or which explain Nature, not as it is in itself, but as it is related to human sense perception, ought neither to be counted among the chief kinds, nor to be mixed (not to say confused) with pure notions, which explain Nature as it is in itself. Of the latter kind [15] are motion, rest, and their laws; of the former are visible, invisible, hot, cold, and as I will say at once, also fluid and solid, etc.

[IV/29] § 5: The first is the smallness of the bodies that compose it, for certainly in larger … [parcels of matter, besides the greater inequalities or roughnesses that are usual upon their surfaces, and may hinder the easy sliding of those bodies along one another, … the bulk itself is apt to make them so heavy that they cannot be agitated by the power of those causes (whatever they be) that make the minute parts of fluid bodies move so freely up and down among themselves …].32 Even though bodies are small, they nevertheless have (or can have)33 surfaces which are uneven and rough. Hence if large bodies should so move that the proportion of their motion to their [5] bulk is the same as that between the motion and bulk of minute bodies, they too would have to be called fluid, if the word fluid did not mean something extrinsic and were not taken over from ordinary usage to mean those moved bodies whose smallness and intervals escape human [10] sense perception. So to divide bodies into fluid and solid will be the same as dividing them into visible and invisible.

In the same section: [… whereas it would scarce be believed how much the smallness of parts may facilitate their being easily put into motion, and kept in it,] if we were not able to confirm34 it by Chemical experiments. No one will ever be able to ‘confirm’ this by Chemical experiments, nor by any others, but only by demonstration and computation.35 For it [15] is by reasoning and calculation that we divide bodies to infinity, and consequently also the Forces required to move them. But we can never ‘confirm’ this by experiments.

[IV/30] § 6: [And to show yet more particularly] that great bodies are too unwieldy to constitute fluid ones; [we may further observe, how as well nature as art, when either of them makes bodies of considerable bulk fluid, is wont, in order thereunto, to make a comminution of them …].36 Whether or not one understands by fluid what I have just said, nevertheless, the thing is manifest [A: enough] through itself. But I do not see how the Distinguished Gentleman ‘confirms’ this by the experiments reported in this [5] section. For (since we want to doubt concerning a thing certain)37 although bones are unsuitable for composing Chyle and similar fluids, perhaps they will be suitable enough for composing some new kind of fluid [A: unknown to us].

§ 10:38 By making them less pliant than formerly [or giving them a figure more easy to be entangled with the neighbouring corpuscles, or else by making their surfaces less smooth and slippery than before]. The parts driven into the Receiver could have coagulated into another body, more solid than [10] oil, without any change of the parts, but only because they were separated from the remaining parts. For bodies are lighter or heavier according to the kinds of fluid in which they are immersed.

So when particles of butter are floating in milk, they compose part of the liquid. But after the milk, from being stirred, acquires a new [15] motion, to which all the parts composing the milk cannot equally accommodate themselves, this by itself brings it about that some parts become heavier and drive the lighter ones upwards. But because these [IV/31] lighter parts are so much heavier than air that they cannot compose a liquid with it, they are driven downwards by it; and because they are unable to move, they alone cannot also make a fluid, but lie on one another and stick to one another.39

Vapors, too, when they are separated from the air, are changed to [5] water, which can be called solid by comparison with air [A: and similarly with many other things].

§ 13:40 And I take as an example a Bladder distended by water rather than one full of air [because, though this latter will also emulate a hard body, yet in this case the tension of the bladder would perhaps be ascribed to a kind of spring, which divers experiments have taught us to belong to the air]. Since the particles of water are always moving unceasingly in every direction, it is clear that if they are a not restrained by surrounding bodies, the water will be extended in every direction [A: or what is the same thing, it has an elastic force].

[10] Further, I confess that I cannot yet perceive how the distention of a bladder full of water helps to confirm his view about the small spaces. For the reason why the particles of water do not yield when the sides of the bladder are pressed by a finger (as [15] they would do otherwise, if they were free) is that there is no equilibrium, [IV/32] or circulation, as there is when some body, say our finger, is surrounded by a fluid or by water. But however much the water is pressed by the bladder, nevertheless its particles will yield to a stone which is also enclosed in the bladder in the same way they usually do outside the bladder.

[5] In the same section: [Yet I will not say that it were altogether absurd to question] whether there is a portion of matter [consisting of parts so minute and so agitated, and consequently so easy to be either crumbled into yet smaller parts, or squeezed into any figure as occasion requires, that they may incessantly change places among themselves, and thereby constitute a most fluid body, without any vacuities, receptacles, or yielding matter about them …].41 The affirmative must be maintained unless we are willing instead to embark on an infinite regress, or to grant (what is the height of absurdity) that there is a vacuum.

§ 19:42 [The humidity of a body is but a relative thing, and depends chiefly upon the congruity or incongruence of the component particles of the liquor in reference to the pores of those particular bodies that it touches: for sometimes the little eminencies and pores of the surface of the dry body … are of such magnitudes and figure] that the particles of the liquor find admittance into those pores, and are detained there, by which means [they usually soften it; and sometimes the pores and asperities of the dry bodies are so incommensurate in bigness and figure to the particles of the liquor that they glide over the surface without sticking or adhering firmly to any part of it].

[10] This must not be affirmed absolutely of all fluids which find an entry into the pores of other [bodies]. For if the particles of Spirit of Niter enter the pores of white paper, they make it stiff and brittle; one can test this by pouring [15] a few drops in a glowing iron cup, like A, and channeling the smoke through a paper cover, like B. Further, the same Spirit of Niter makes leather soft, but not wet; on the contrary, it shrinks it, just as fire also does.

In the same section: [And even water,43 that wets almost all other animal and vegetable, and many mineral bodies … seems not a humid body in relation to the feathers of ducks, swans and other waterfowl;] since nature [A: has designed] them both for flying and for swimming [she providently makes their feathers of such a texture that they do not, like the feathers of other birds, admit the water, which imbibed would make them unfit for the use of flying].

[20] He seeks the cause in the purpose.44

§ 23: [Let us return to visible liquors and endeavor to prove … that their insensible parts may be every way agitated,] though their motion is rarely seen by us. Take then [what quantity you please of aqua fortis, and dissolve in it as much as you please of ordinary coined silver … pour the colored solution into twelve or fifteen times as much fair water, and then decant or filtrate the mixture that it may be very clear. If you look upon this liquor, the parts of it will seem to be all of them as perfectly at rest as those of common water, nor will your eye be able to distinguish any corpuscles of silver swimming in the liquor … that there are such metalline corpuscles agitated to and fro with and by those of the water will quickly appear if you immerse into it a flatted piece of clean copper. For by that time you have held it two or three minutes … in the liquor, you shall see the particles of silver that were roving up and down the liquor, fasten themselves in such swarms to the copper plate that they will … cover it with a loose case of silver].

The matter is sufficiently evident without this experiment and without [IV/33] any expense, from the fact that in winter we see [A: clearly] enough that our breath moves, whereas in summer or in a heated room we cannot see that it moves.

Further, if in summer the wind cools suddenly, then since the new density of the air prevents vapors arising from the water from being [5] dispersed through it so easily as they were before it cooled, they are gathered again over the surface of the water in such abundance that we can see them [A: clearly] enough.

Again, we can infer from the sundial and the shadow of the Sun that motion is often too slow for us to see it, and from a lighted piece [10] of under, moved swiftly in a circle, that it is very often too fast for us to see it. In the latter case we imagine that the fiery part is at rest at every point on the circumference which it describes by its motion. I would recount here the causes of this, if I did not judge it superfluous.

Finally, let me say in passing that to understand the nature of a [15] fluid in general it suffices to know that we can move our hand [A: in it] in all directions without any resistance, with a motion proportionate to the fluid. This is evident enough to those who attend sufficiently to those Notions which explain Nature as it is in itself, not as it is [IV/34] related to human sense perception.45 Not that on that account I scorn this history46 as useless. On the contrary, if this were done concerning each fluid, as accurately and reliably as possible, I would judge it very useful for understanding their special differences. This is something [5] all Philosophers ought greatly to desire, as being very necessary.47

On Solidity

§ 7: [Upon what account soever the atomists have omitted to reckon for a cause of firmness that which we have newly been speaking of (i.e., that the body’s component parts are at rest in relation to one another), yet … if two bodies be at rest against one another, it seems] consonant to the universal laws of Nature [that they should continue in that state of rest till some force capable to overpower their resistance puts them out of it].

This is Descartes’ demonstration, and I do not see that the Distinguished Gentleman brings to light any genuine demonstration drawn from his experiments or observations.

[10] I had noted many things here and in what follows, but afterwards I saw that the Distinguished Gentleman corrected himself.

Section 16:48 [The marbles being skilfully wetted and kept by … wires from slipping aside, we cast into the scale fastened to the lower of them divers weights at several times, and by nimbly pulling up the higher stone, tried many times how much we could draw up with the lower, and did sometimes take up above an hundred ounces,] and once an hundred thirty-two49 ounces [Troy, besides the scale that contained them, and the marble itself…].

If one compares it with the weight of the quicksilver enclosed in the tube,50 it comes very near the true weight. But I would consider it worth the trouble to examine these things so that one may obtain, as far as possible the ratio [15] between the pressure of the air along a line [IV/35] parallel to the Horizon and that along a line perpendicular to the Horizon.51 I think it can be done in this way. Let CD in figure 6 be a [5] flat mirror, very smoothly polished, on which lie two pieces of marble, A and B, immediately touching one another; let A be attached to a hook, E; let B be attached to a cord [A: sufficiently strong silk thread], N; let T be a pulley and G a weight which will show the force which [10] is required to pull B away from A along a line parallel to the Horizon.

[IV/36] In figure 7 let F be a sufficiently strong silk thread by which the marble, B, is tied to the floor; let D be [5] a pulley and G a weight which will show the force which is required to pull apart A and B [A: which touches A immediately] along a line perpendicular to the horizon.52

[IV35/28] [A: It is not necessary to explain these things more fully. With this, my dear friend, you have what I so far find worth noting about Mr. Boyle’s experiments.

[IV/36/8] As for your first questions, when I look through my replies, I see nothing that I have omitted. And if by chance I have put something obscurely (as I often do for lack of words), I ask you to be so good as to indicate it to me. I shall do my best to explain it more clearly.

[10] As for your new question, how things have begun to be, and by what connection they depend on the first cause, I have composed a whole short work devoted to this matter and also to the emendation of the intellect.53 I am engaged in transcribing and emending it, but sometimes I put it to one side because I do not yet have any definite [15] plan regarding its publication. I fear, of course, that the theologians of our time may be offended and with their usual hatred attack me, who absolutely dread quarrels.

I shall look for your advice regarding this matter, and to let you know what is contained in this work of mine which might somewhat offend the preachers, I say that I regard as creatures many ‘attributes’ [20] which they—and everyone, so far as I know—attribute to God. Conversely, other things, which they because of their prejudices regard as creatures, I contend are attributes of God, which they have misunderstood. Also, I do not separate God from nature as everyone known [25] to me has done. So I look for your advice, regarding you as a most faithful friend, whose honesty it would be wrong to doubt.

Farewell, and as you have begun, continue to love me, who am,

Yours entirely,
Benedictus Spiñoza]54

[Rijnsburg, April 1662]

[IV/37] LETTER 7
HENRY OLDENBURG TO THE ESTEEMED B. D. S.

[5] It is many weeks ago, Distinguished Sir, since I received your very welcome letter, with its learned comments on Boyle’s book. The Author himself joins me in thanking you very much for the reflections you have shared with us. He would have indicated this more quickly if he had not hoped that he would soon be relieved of the mass of [10] business with which he is burdened, so that he could send you his answer along with his thanks. But he finds that so far his hope has been in vain; he has been so distracted, both by public and by private business, that for now he can only convey his gratitude to you, and is forced to put off till another time his opinion regarding your Notes.

[15] Moreover, two Opponents55 have attacked him in print and he considers himself bound to reply to them as soon as possible. Those Writings are not aimed at his Treatise on Niter, but at another book of his, containing his Pneumatic Experiments, which prove the Elasticity [20] of the Air. As soon as he has freed himself from this work, he will disclose his thoughts regarding your Objections. Meanwhile he asks you not to take this delay amiss.

That Group of Philosophers I had mentioned to you has now, by our King’s favor, been converted into a Royal Society, protected by a [25] public Charter, which grants it special Privileges. There is great hope that it will be endowed with the necessary income.

I would advise you, without reservation, not to grudge scholars what you have learnedly arrived at by the acuteness of your understanding, [30] both in Philosophy and in Theology. Let it be published, whatever rumblings there may be among the foolish Theologians. Your Republic is very free, and gives great freedom for philosophizing. And [IV/38] your own prudence will suggest to you that you express your concepts and your opinion as moderately as possible. For the rest, leave the outcome to Fate.

Come, then, excellent Sir, banish all fear of arousing the pygmies [5] of our time. Long enough have we appeased ignorant triflers. Let us set full sail for true knowledge, and penetrate more deeply into Nature’s mysteries than anyone yet has. Among your people, I think, your meditations can be published with impunity, nor should you fear that they will give any offense to the Wise. If you find such to be [10] your Patrons and Supporters—and I guarantee without reservation that you will—why should you fear an ignorant Momus. I will not leave you in peace, honored Friend, until I prevail on you, nor will I ever, so far as it depends on me, allow your Thoughts, which are of such great weight, to be concealed in eternal silence. I ask you urgently to take the trouble to let me know, as soon as you conveniently [15] can, what resolution you form on this.

Perhaps things will occur here which will be worth your knowing. Certainly the Society I have mentioned will now press on more vigorously with its work, and perhaps, provided that the Peace on these shores lasts, it will contribute to the Republic of Letters with distinction.

[20] Farewell, excellent Sir, and believe that I am

Your very Devoted and Dear Friend,
Henry Oldenburg

[London, July 1662]

LETTER 8
SIMON DE VRIES TO THE DISTINGUISHED B. D. S.

Most Upright Friend,

For some time now I have been anxious to visit you, but the weather and the long winter have prevented me. Sometimes I complain about [IV/39] my lot, because the distance between us keeps us apart for so long. Fortunate, indeed, most Fortunte, is your companion, Casearius, who lives under the same roof with you, and can talk to you about the most important matters at breakfast, at dinner, and on your walks. [5] But though our bodies are separated from one another by such a distance, nevertheless you have very often been present in my mind, especially when I meditate on your writings and hold them in my hands. But since not everything is clear enough to the members of our group—which is why we have begun meeting again—and so that you [10] will not think I have forgotten you, I have set myself to write this letter.

As for our group, it is arranged in this way: one of us (but each one takes his turn) reads through, explains according to his own conceptions, and then proves everything, following the sequence and order of your propositions. Then if it happens that one cannot satisfy the [15] other, we have thought it worthwhile to make a note of it and to write to you, so that, if possible, it may be made clearer to us, and under your guidance we may be able to defend the truth against those who are superstitiously religious and Christian, and to stand against the attacks of the whole world.56

So since, when we first read through and explained the definitions, [20] they did not all seem clear to us, we did not agree about the nature of definition. In your absence we consulted a certain author, a mathematician named Borelli.57 When he discusses the nature of a definition, an axiom and a postulate, he also introduces the opinions of others regarding this matter. His own opinion is as follows:

[25] Definitions are used in a demonstration as premises. So it is necessary for them to be known evidently, otherwise scientific, or very evident, knowledge cannot be acquired from them.

And elsewhere:

The basis for a construction, or the essential, first and best known property of a subject, must be chosen, not rashly, but with the greatest care. For if the [30] construction or the property named is impossible, then a scientific definition will not result. For example, if someone were to say: “Let two straight lines enclosing a space be called ‘figurals,’” this would be a definition of a nonbeing, and would be impossible. So ignorance rather than knowledge would be deduced from it.

Next, if the construction or property named is indeed possible and true, [35] but unknown to us, or doubtful, then it will not be a good definition; for [IV/40] conclusions drawn from what is unknown and doubtful will also be uncertain and doubtful. So they will produce suspicion or opinion, but not certain knowledge.

Tacquet58 seems to disagree with this opinion, for as you know, he maintains that one can proceed directly from a false proposition to a true conclusion.

[5] But Clavius,59 whose opinion [Borelli] also introduces, thinks that

Definitions are technical terms, and it is not necessary to give a reason why a thing is defined in this or that way. It is enough if one never asserts that the thing defined agrees with something unless one has first demonstrated that the definition given agrees with it.

[10] So Borelli maintains that the definition of a subject must consist of a property or construction which is first, essential, best known to us, and true, whereas for Clavius it does not matter whether it is first or best known or true or not, so long as the definition we have given is not asserted to agree with something unless we have first demonstrated that the definition given does agree with that thing.

[15] We prefer Borelli’s opinion, but we do not really know, Sir, which of the two you agree with, or whether you agree with neither. Since there are such various disputes about the nature of definition, which is numbered among the principles of demonstration, if the mind is not freed of difficulties regarding this, then it will also be in difficulty [20] regarding those things deduced from it. So if we are not making too much trouble for you, and if you have the time, we would very much like you, sir, to write to us, giving us your opinion about this matter, and also about what the distinction is between axioms and definitions. Borelli, in fact, admits no true distinction between them, except as [25] regards the name. But I believe you maintain another distinction.

Next, the third definition60 is not sufficiently clear to us. As an example, I reported what you, Sir, said to me at The Hague, that a Thing can be considered in two ways, either as it is in itself or as it has a relation to something else. For example, the intellect can be [30] considered either under thought or as consisting of ideas. But we do not see clearly what this distinction would be. For we think that if we conceive thought rightly, we must comprehend it in relation to ideas, since if all ideas were removed from it, we would destroy thought itself. So since the example is not clear enough to us, the thing itself [35] still remains somewhat obscure, and we require further explanation.

[IV/41] Finally, at the beginning of P8S3 you write:

From these [propositions] it is evident that although two attributes may be conceived to be really distinct (i.e., one may be conceived without the aid of the other), they do not, on that account, constitute two beings or two different [5] substances. The reason is that it is of the nature of a substance that all of its attributes (I mean each of them) should be conceived through themselves, since they have [always]61 been in it together.

In this way you seem, Sir, to suppose that the nature of substance is so constituted that it can have more than one attribute, which you have not yet demonstrated, unless you depend on the fifth62 definition [10] of an absolutely infinite substance, or God. Otherwise, if I should say that each substance has only one attribute, and if I had the idea of two attributes, I could rightly conclude that, where there are two different attributes, there are two different substances. We ask you for a clearer explanation of this too.

[15] Next, I thank you very much for your writings, which were imparted to me by P. Balling and which have given me great joy—particularly P19S.63 If I can help you here in anything that is in my power, I am at your service. You have only to let me know. I have entered an anatomy course, and am about half through. When it is [20] finished, I shall begin chemistry, and following your advice, go through the whole Medical Course. I break off now, and await your reply. Receive the greetings of

Your very Devoted,
S. J. De Vries

Amsterdam, 24 February 1663

[IV/42] LETTER 9
B. D. S. TO THE VERY LEARNED YOUNG MAN, SIMON DE VRIES64

Reply to the preceding

[NS: On the Nature of Definition and Axiom]

[15] I have received your letter, which I had long looked for, and I thank you very much for it and for your feeling toward me. The length of your absence has been no less burdensome to me than to you. Meanwhile, however, I am glad that my nightly studies are of use to you and our friends. For in this way, while you are far from me, I who am absent speak to all of you.

There is no need for you to envy Casearius.65 No one is more troublesome [20] to me, and there is no one with whom I have to be more on my guard. So I should like to warn you and all our friends not to communicate my views to him until he has reached greater maturity. He is still too childish and unstable, more anxious for novelty than for truth. But I hope that in a few years he will correct these youthful [25] faults. Indeed, as far as I can judge from his native ability, I am almost certain that he will. So his talent induces me to like him.

As for the questions proposed in your group (which is very sensibly organized), I see that you are in these perplexities because you do not distinguish between different kinds of definition—between one which [30] serves to explain a thing whose essence66 only is sought, as the only thing there is doubt about, and one which is proposed only to be examined. For because the former has a determinate object, it ought to be true. But the latter does not require this.

[IV/43] For example, if someone asks me for a description of the Temple of Solomon, I ought to give him a true description of the temple [NS: as [20] it was] unless I want to talk nonsense to him. But if I have constructed in my mind some temple which I want to build, and if I infer from its description that I must buy land of such a kind and so many thousand stones and other materials, will anyone in his right mind tell me that I have drawn a bad conclusion because I have perhaps used a [25] false definition? Or will anyone require me to prove my definition? To do so would be to tell me that I have not conceived what I have conceived, or to require me to prove that I have conceived what I have conceived. Surely this is trifling.

So a definition either explains a thing as it is [NS: in itself] outside [30] the intellect—and then it ought to be true and to differ67 from a proposition or axiom only in that a definition is concerned solely with the essences of things or of their affections, whereas an axiom or a proposition extends more widely, to eternal truths as well—or else it explains a thing as we conceive it or can conceive it—and then it also differs from an axiom and a proposition in that it need only be conceived, [35] without any further condition, and need not, like an axiom [NS: and a proposition] be conceived as true.68 So a bad definition is [IV/44] one that is not conceived.

To help you understand this, I shall take Borelli’s example. Suppose [20] someone says “Let two straight lines enclosing a space be called figurals.” If he understands by a straight line what everyone understands by a curved line, then his definition will be a good one, provided he does not subsequently understand [by it] squares and other figures. [25] (By that definition would be understood figures like images and the like.) But if by a straight line he understands what we commonly understand, the thing is completely inconceivable. So it is no definition. Borelli, whose opinion you are inclined to embrace, confuses all these things completely.

I shall add another example, the one you bring up at the end. If I [30] say that each substance has only one attribute, that is only a proposition and requires a demonstration. But if I say “By substance I understand what consists of one attribute only,” that will be a good definition, provided that afterwards beings consisting of more attributes than one are designated by a word other than substance.

But you say that I have not demonstrated that a substance (or being) [35] can have more attributes than one. Perhaps you have neglected to pay [IV/45] attention to my demonstrations. For I have used two: first, that nothing is more evident to us than that we conceive each being under some [20] attribute, and that the more reality or being a being has the more attributes must be attributed to it; so a being absolutely infinite must be defined, etc.; second, and the one I judge best, is that the more attributes I attribute to a being the more I am compelled to attribute existence to it; that is, the more I conceive it as true. It would be quite [25] the contrary if I had feigned a Chimaera, or something like that.

As for your contention that you do not conceive thought except in relation to ideas (because if you remove the ideas, you destroy thought), I believe this happens to you because when you, as a thinking thing, do this, you put aside all your thoughts and concepts. So it is no [30] wonder that when you have done so, nothing afterwards remains for you to think of. But as far as the thing itself is concerned, I think I have demonstrated clearly and evidently enough that the intellect, though infinite, pertains to natura naturata, not to natura naturans.

However, I still do not see what this has to do with understanding [35] D3, nor why it should be a problem. Unless I am mistaken, the definition I gave you was as follows:

[IV/46/20] By substance I understand what is in itself and is conceived through itself, i.e., whose concept does not involve the concept of another thing. I understand the same by attribute, except that it is called attribute in relation to the intellect, which attributes such and such a definite nature to substance.

I say that this definition explains clearly enough what I wish to understand by substance, or attribute.

[25] Nevertheless, you want me to explain by an example how one and the same thing can be designated by two names (though this is not necessary at all). Not to seem niggardly, I offer two: (i) I say that by Israel I understand the third patriarch; I understand the same by Jacob, the name which was given him because he had seized his brother’s [30] heel; (ii) by flat I mean what reflects all rays of light without any change; I understand the same by white, except that it is called white in relation to a man looking at the flat [surface].

[IV/46/15] [NS: With this I consider that I have answered your questions. Meanwhile, I shall wait to hear your judgment. If there is still something which you find to be not well or clearly enough demonstrated, don’t hesitate to point it out to me, etc.]

[Rijnsburg, March 1663]

[IV/47] LETTER 10
B. D. S. TO THE VERY LEARNED YOUNG MAN, SIMON DE VRIES

[5] Cherished Friend,

You ask me whether we need experience to know whether the Definition of any Attribute [NS: any thing] is true. To this I reply that we need experience only for those things which cannot be inferred from the definition of the thing, as, for example, the existence of Modes (for this cannot be inferred from the definition of the thing); but not [10] for those things whose existence is not distinguished from their essence, and therefore is inferred from their definition. Indeed no experience will ever be able to teach us this, for experience does not teach any essences of things. The most it can do is to determine our [15] mind to think only of certain essences of things. So since the existence of the attributes does not differ from their essence, we will not be able to grasp it by any experience.

You ask, next, whether also things or their affections are eternal truths. I say certainly. If you should ask why I do not call them [20] eternal truths, I answer, to distinguish them (as everyone generally does)69 from those which do not explain any thing or affection of a thing, as, for example, nothing comes from nothing. These and similar Propositions, I say, are called absolutely eternal truths, by which they want to signify nothing but that such [propositions] have no place outside the mind, etc.

[Rijnsburg, March (?) 1663]

[IV/48] LETTER 11
HENRY OLDENBURG TO THE DISTINGUISHED B. D. S.

Reply to Letter 6

Most Excellent Sir, Dearest Friend,

I could offer many excuses for my long silence to you, but I shall limit myself to two chief ones: the ill health of the very noble Boyle [10] and the pressures of my own affairs. The former prevented Boyle from answering your Comments on Niter more quickly; the latter have kept me so busy for many months that I have hardly been my own master, so that I could not discharge the duty I confess I owe you. I rejoice that, for a while at least, both obstacles have been removed, [15] so that I may renew my correspondence with so great a Friend. Indeed, I do this now with the greatest pleasure, and am resolved (God willing) that henceforth our communication by letters shall not be interrupted for so long.

[20] But before I deal with the matters that particularly concern you and me, let me take care of what is due to you in Mr. Boyle’s name. He has received, with his usual kindness, the notes you assembled on that little Chemical-Physical Treatise of his and he thanks you very much [25] for your Examination of it. Meanwhile, he wants me to advise you that his purpose was not so much to show that this is a truly Philosophic and perfect Analysis of Niter, as to explain that the common doctrine of Substantial Forms and Qualities, received in the Schools, rests on a weak foundation, and that what they call the specific differenees [IV/49] of things can be referred to the size, motion, rest, and position of the parts.

Having noted this first, our Author then says that his Experiment with Niter was more than enough to show that the whole body of Niter was resolved by Chemical Analysis into parts differing from one [5] another and from the whole, but that afterwards it was reunited out of the same parts and so reconstituted that only a little of the original weight was lacking. He adds that he has shown that the thing occurs thus, but has not discussed how it occurs, which seems to be the subject of your conjecture. Nor has he determined anything about it, since that was beyond his purpose.

[10] Meanwhile, he thinks what you suppose about how it occurs—that you consider the fixed salt of Niter to be its impurities, and other such things—is said gratuitously and without proof. With regard to your assertion that these impurities, or this fixed salt, has passages hollowed out according to the measure of the particles of Niter, our Author notes that just as Spirit of Niter combines with its own fixed salt to [15] constitute Niter, so it combines with salt of potash to produce Niter.70 From this he thinks it clear that similar pores are found in bodies of that kind, from which Nitrous Spirits are not given off.

Nor does our Author see that the necessity of that very fine matter which you also allege is proved from any phenomena. Rather it is [20] assumed simply from the Hypothesis that a vacuum is impossible.

The Author denies that he is affected by what you say about the causes of the differences in taste between Niter and Spirit of Niter. As for what you relate about the inflammability of Niter and the non-inflammability of Spirit of Niter, he says it supposes Descartes’ doctrine [25] of Fire,71 with which he declares he is not yet satisfied.

With regard to the Experiments by which you think to confirm your explanation of the Phenomenon [of reconstitution of Niter] the Author replies that (i) materially, indeed, Spirit of Niter is Niter, but not formally, since they differ very greatly in their qualities and powers, [30] viz. in taste, smell, volatility, power of dissolving metals, of changing the colors of vegetables, etc.; (ii) as for your contention that certain particles which have been carried upwards join to form Crystals of Niter—he maintains that this happens because the nitrous parts are driven off together with the Spirit of Niter by the fire, just as happens with soot; (iii) to what you maintain about the effect of purification [35] the Author replies that in that purification the Niter is for the most [IV/50] part freed of a certain salt, which looks like common salt, but that rising up and forming little icicles is common to it and other salts, and depends on the pressure of the air and on certain other causes, which must be discussed elsewhere, since it does not contribute to the present [5] Problem; (iv) what you say about your third Experiment, the Author says happens also with certain other salts; he maintains that when the paper is actually alight, it causes the rigid and solid particles which composed the salt to vibrate and in this way produces a sparkling.

Regarding the fifth section, where you think that the Noble Author [10] is criticizing Descartes, he believes that you are the one at fault here. He says he had not referred to Descartes at all, but to Gassendi and others who ascribe a Cylindrical shape to the particles of Niter, when it is really prismatic. Nor was he was speaking about any shapes other than those which are visible.

To your comments on §§ 13-18 he replies only that he had written [15] these things primarily to show the usefulness of Chemistry for confirming the Mechanical principles of Philosophy, and that he had not found these matters treated so clearly by others. Our Boyle is one of those whose trust in reason is not so great that they have no need for the Phenomena to agree with their reason.

[20] Furthermore, he says that there is a great difference between readily available experiments (where we do not know what Nature contributes and what things intervene) and experiments where it is definitely known what things are brought in.72 Wood is a much more composite body than the subject our Author deals with. And in the boiling of ordinary [25] water an external fire is added, which is not used in producing our sound. The reason why green plants change into so many and such different colors is still being sought, but that [in some substances] it arises from a change of parts is indicated by this experiment, in which it is evident that the color has been changed by adding Spirit of Niter. Finally, he says that Niter has neither a foul nor a pleasant smell, but [30] it acquires a foul smell simply by being decomposed, and loses it when it is reconstituted.

To what you note about § [25] (for he says that none of the other things touch him) he replies that he has used the Epicurean principles which hold that motion is innate in the particles because it was necessary [35] for him to use some Hypothesis to explain the Phenomenon. [IV/51] Nevertheless, he does not on that account make it his own, but uses it to sustain his own opinion against the Chemists and the Schools, by showing that at least the matter can be well explained on the Hypothesis mentioned.

To what you add in the same place about the inability of pure water to dissolve the fixed parts, our Boyle replies that the Chemists generally [5] observe and assert that pure water dissolves alkaline salts more quickly than others.

There has not yet been time for the Author to consider your comments on Fluidity and Solidity. I am sending you these things I have recorded, so that I may no longer be deprived of correspondence with [10] you. But I ask you most strenuously to take in good part what I pass on to you in this disjointed and mutilated way, and to attribute its defects to my haste rather than to the renowned Boyle’s ability. I have put it together more from friendly talk on the subject with him than from any written out and Methodical reply from him. So doubtless [15] many things he said have escaped me—things perhaps more substantial and more neatly put than those I have here recalled. I therefore take all the blame on myself, and absolve the Author entirely.

I proceed now to the things which are between you and me. And right away may I ask whether you have finished that little work of [20] such great importance, in which you treat of the origin of things, their dependence on the first cause, and the Emendation of our intellect. I certainly believe, Dearest Sir, that to Men who are really learned and wise nothing will be more pleasant or more welcome than a Treatise of that kind. A Man of your talent and understanding must look to [25] that rather than to the things that please the Theologians of our age and fashion. For they have an eye more to their own interest than to truth. So by the compact of friendship between us, and by every duty of increasing and spreading [knowledge of] the truth, I adjure you not to begrudge or deny us your writings on these matters. Nevertheless, [30] if something of greater importance than I foresee prevents you from publishing that work, I beg you to be good enough to share a summary of it with me in your letters. If you do me this service, you will find me a grateful friend.

The Very Learned Boyle is soon to publish other works,73 which I shall send you by way of compensation. To these I shall also add [35] others which will describe the whole Purpose of our Royal Society, [IV/52] to whose Council I belong (with twenty others) and whose secretary I am (with one other).

Lack of time prevents me from digressing now about other matters. Promising you all the loyalty that can come from an honest heart, and all the readiness to do you services that my weakness is capable of, I [5] am, Most Excellent Sir,

Yours entirely,
Henry Oldenburg

London, 3 April 1663

LETTER 12
B. D. S. TO THE VERY LEARNED AND EXPERT LODEWIJK MEYER, DOCTOR OF MEDICINE AND PHILOSOPHY

[NS: On the Nature of the Infinite]

Special Friend,

[15] I have received your two Letters, one dated 11 January [1663] and delivered to me by our friend N. N., the other dated 26 March [1663] and sent to me from Leiden by some friend, I know not whom. Both were very welcome to me, especially when I learned from them that everything is quite well with you and that you often think of me. For [20] your kindness to me and for the honor you have always been willing to do me, I return, as I am bound to do, very hearty thanks. At the same time I ask you to believe that I am no less devoted to you, as I shall always try to show at every opportunity, as far my slight abilities allow. To begin [showing my devotion], I shall take some pains to answer the question you put to me in your Letters. You ask me to tell [25] you what I have discovered about the Infinite, which I shall most gladly do.

[IV/53] Everyone has always found the problem of the Infinite very difficult, indeed insoluble. This is because they have not distinguished between what is infinite as a consequence of its own nature, or by the force of its definition, and what has no bounds, not indeed by the [5] force of its essence, but by the force of its cause. And also because they have not distinguished between what is called infinite because it has no limits and that whose parts we cannot explain or equate [NS: determine or express] with any number, though we know its maximum and minimum [NS, LC: or it is determined]. Finally, they have not distinguished between what we can only understand, but not imagine, and what we can also imagine.

[10] If they had attended to these distinctions, I maintain that they would never have been overwhelmed by such a great crowd of difficulties. For then they would have understood clearly what kind of Infinite cannot be divided into any parts, or cannot have any parts, and what kind of Infinite can, on the other hand, be divided into parts without contradiction. They would also have understood what kind of Infinite [15] can be conceived to be greater than another Infinite, without any contradiction,74 and what kind cannot be so conceived. This will be clear from what I am about to say. But first let me briefly explain these four [concepts]: Substance, Mode, Eternity, and Duration.

[IV/54] The points I want you to consider about Substance are: (i) that existence pertains to its essence, i.e., that from its essence and definition alone it follows that it exists (if my memory does not deceive me, I have previously demonstrated this to you in conversation, without [5] the aid of any other Propositions); (ii), which follows from (i), that Substance is not one of many, but that there exists only one of the same nature; and finally, (iii) that every Substance can be understood only as infinite.

I call the Affections of Substance Modes. Their definition, insofar [10] as it is not the very definition of Substance, cannot involve any existence. So even though they exist, we can conceive them as not existing. From this it follows that when we attend only to the essence of modes, and not to the order of the whole of Nature [LC: matter], we cannot infer from the fact that they exist now that they will or will not exist [15] later, or that they have or have not existed earlier. From this it is clear that we conceive the existence of Substance to be entirely different from the existence of Modes.

The difference between Eternity and Duration arises from this. For [IV/55] it is only of Modes that we can explain the existence by Duration. But [we can explain the existence] of Substance by Eterntiy, i.e., the infinite enjoyment of existing, or (in bad Latin) of being.

From all this it is clear that when we attend only to the essence of [5] Modes (as very often happens), and not to the order of Nature, we can determine as we please their existence and Duration, conceive it as greater or less, and divide it into parts—without thereby destroying in any way the concept we have of them. But since we can conceive [10] Eternity and Substance only as infinite, they can undergo none of these without our destroying at the same time the concept we have of them.

Hence they talk utter nonsense, not to say madness, who hold that Extended Substance is put together of parts, or bodies, really distinct from one another. This is just the same as if someone should try, [15] merely by adding and accumulating many circles, to put together a square or a triangle or something else completely different in its essence. So that whole array of arguments by which Philosophers ordinarily labor to show that Extended Substance is finite falls of its [IV/56] own weight. For they all suppose that corporeal Substance is composed of parts. Similarly there are others, who, after they have persuaded themselves that a line is composed of points, have been able to find many arguments by which they would show that a line is not divisible to infinity.

[5] But if you ask why we are so inclined, by a natural impulse, to divide extended substance, I reply that we conceive quantity in two ways: either abstractly, or superficially, as we have it in the imagination with the aid of the senses; or as substance, which is done by the [10] intellect alone. So if we attend to quantity as it is in the imagination, which is what we do most often and most easily, we find it to be divisible, finite, composed of parts, and one of many. But if we attend to it as it is in the intellect, and perceive the thing as it is in itself, which is very difficult, then we find it to be infinite, indivisible and unique, as [NS: if I am not mistaken] I have already demonstrated [15] sufficiently to you before now.

Next, from the fact that when we conceive Quantity abstracted from Substance and separate Duration from the way it flows from eternal things, we can determine them as we please, there arise Time [IV/57] and Measure—Time to determine Duration and Measure to determine Quantity in such a way that, so far as possible, we imagine them easily. Again, from the fact that we separate the Affections of Substance from Substance itself and reduce them to classes so that as far [5] as possible we imagine them easily, arises Number, by which we determine [these affections of substance].

You can see clearly from what I have said that Measure, Time, and Number are nothing but Modes of thinking, or rather, of imagining. So it is no wonder that all those who have striven to understand the course of Nature by such Notions—which in addition have been badly [10] understood—have so marvelously entangled themselves that in the end they have not been able to untangle themselves without breaking through everything and admitting even the most absurd absurdities. For since there are many things which we cannot at all grasp by the imagination, but only by the intellect (such as Substance, Eternity, etc.), if [15] someone strives to explain such things by Notions of this kind, which are only aids of the Imagination, he will accomplish nothing more than if he takes pains to go mad with his imagination.

And if the Modes of Substance themselves are confused with Beings of reason of this kind, or aids of the imagination, they too can never [IV/58] be rightly understood. For when we do this, we separate them from Substance, and from the way they flow from eternity, without which, however, they cannot be rightly understood.

To see this still more clearly, take this example. When someone has [5] conceived Duration abstractly, and by confusing it with Time begun to divide it into parts, he will never be able to understand, for example, how an hour can pass. For if an hour is to pass, it will be necessary for half of it to pass first, and then half of the remainder, and then half of the remainder of this. So if you subtract half from the [10] remainder in this way, to infinity,75 you will never reach the end of the hour. Hence many, who have not been accustomed to distinguish Beings of reason from real beings, have dared to hold that Duration is composed of moments. In their desire to avoid Charybdis, they have run into Scylla [NS: or gone from bad to worse]. For composing Duration of moments is the same as composing Number merely by adding [15] noughts.

From what has just been said it is sufficiently evident that neither Number, nor Measure, nor Time (since they are only aids of the imagination) can be infinite. For otherwise Number would not be number, [IV/59] nor Measure measure, nor Time time. Hence it is clear why many who confused these three with the things themselves, because they were ignorant of the true nature of things, denied an actual Infinite. But let the Mathematicians judge how wretchedly these people have [5] reasoned—such Arguments have never deterred the Mathematicians from the things they perceived clearly and distinctly. For not only have they discovered many things which cannot be explained by any Number—which makes quite plain the inability of numbers to determine all things—they also know many things which cannot be equated [10] with any number, but exceed every number that can be given. Still they do not infer that such things exceed every number because of the multiplicity of their parts, but because the nature of the thing cannot admit number without a manifest contradiction.

[15] For example, all the inequalities of the space between two circles, A and B,76 and all the variations which the matter moving in it must undergo, exceed every number. That is not inferred from the excesive size of the intervening space. For however small a portion of it we take, the [IV/60] inequalities of this small portion will still exceed every number. Nor is it inferred because, as happens in other cases, we do not know its maximum and minimum. For we know both in this example of ours: AB is the maximum and CD is the minimum. Instead it is inferred [5] simply from the fact that the nature of the space between two non-concentric circles does not admit anything of the kind. So if anyone should wish to determine all those inequalities by some definite number, he will, at the same time, have to bring it about that a circle is not a circle.

[10] Similarly, to return to our theme, if someone should wish to determine all the motions of matter there have been up to now by reducing them and their Duration to a definite number and time, he will certainly be striving for nothing but depriving corporeal Substance (which we can not conceive except as existing) of its Affections and bringing it about that it does not have the nature which it has. I could demonstrate [15] this clearly here—as well as many other things I have touched on in this Letter—but I judge it to be unnecessary.

From everything now said, it is clear that some things are infinite [IV/61] by their nature and cannot in any way be conceived to be finite, that others [are infinite] by the force of the cause in which they inhere, though when they are conceived abstractly they can be divided into parts and regarded as finite, and that others, finally, are called infinite, or if you prefer, indefinite, because they cannot be equated with any [5] number, though they can be conceived to be greater or lesser. For if things cannot be equated with a number, it does not follow that they must be equal. This is manifest enough from the example adduced, and from many others.

I have, finally, set out briefly the causes of the errors and confusions [10] which have arisen concerning the Problem of the Infinite, and unless I am mistaken, I have so explained all of them that I do not think any Problem about the Infinite remains which I have not touched on here or which cannot be solved very easily from what I have said. So I don’t regard it as worthwhile to detain you any longer with these matters.

[15] But in passing I should like to note here that the more recent Peripatetics have, as I think, misunderstood the demonstration by which the Ancients tried to prove God’s existence. For as I find it in a certain [IV/62] Jew, called Rab Chasdai,77 it runs as follows: if there is an infinite regress of causes, then all things that are will also have been caused; but it does not pertain to anything which has been caused, to exist necessarily by the force of its own nature; therefore, there is nothing in Nature to whose essence it pertains to exist necessarily; but the [5] latter is absurd; therefore, the former is also. Hence the force of this argument does not lie in the impossibility of there being an actual infinite or an infinite regress of causes, but only in the supposition that things which do not exist necessarily by their own nature are not determined to exist by a thing which does necessarily exist by its own [10] nature [NS: and which is a cause, not something caused.]

Because time forces me to hasten, I would now pass to your second Letter, but I will be able to answer the things contained in it more conveniently when you are good enough to visit me. So I ask you, if you can, to come as soon as possible. For the time of my moving [15] approaches rapidly. That is all. Farewell, and remember me, who am, etc.

[Rijnsburg, 20 April 1663]

LETTER 12A78
B. D. S. TO LODEWIJK MEYER

Dearest Friend,

Yesterday I received your very welcome letter in which you ask (i) whether in part I, chapter 2 of the appendix you have correctly indicated all the propositions, etc., which are cited there from part I of the principles? (ii) whether what I say in part II, that the son of god is the father himself, should not be deleted? and finally (iii) whether my statement that I do not know what the theologians understand by the word personality should not be changed?

To this I reply, (1), that everything you have indicated in chapter 2 of the appendix you have indicated correctly. But in chapter 1 of the appendix, page 1, you have indicated P4S, and nevertheless I would prefer you to have indicated P15S, where I explicitly discuss all modes of thinking.79 Next, on page 2 of the same chapter, you have written in the margin these words why negations are not ideas. In place of this word negations should be put beings of reason, for I am speaking of the being of reason in general, and saying that it is not an idea.

(2) I think what I have said, that the son of god is the father himself, follows very clearly from this axiom, things which agree in a third thing agree with one another. But because this matter is of no importance to me, if you think this can offend certain theologians, do as it seems best to you.80

(3) and finally, what theologians understand by the term personality escapes me, but not what philologists understand by that word. Meanwhile, because the manuscript is with you, you can decide these things better. If it seems to you that they should be changed, do so as you please.81

Farewell, Special friend, and remember me, who am

Your most devoted,
B. de Spinoza

Voorburg, 26 July 1663

[IV/63] LETTER 13
B. D. S. TO THE VERY NOBLE AND LEARNED HENRY OLDENBURG
REPLY TO LETTER 11

Most Noble Sir,

At last I have received the letter I had long desired from you, and also have the opportunity to answer it. But before I undertake that, let me say briefly what has prevented me from writing back to you before now.

[10] When I moved my furniture here in April, I went to Amsterdam, where some of my friends asked me to make them a copy of a Treatise containing a concise account of the Second Part of Descartes’ Principles, demonstrated in the Geometric style, and of the main points treated [15] in Metaphysics. Previously I had dictated this to a certain young man to whom I did not want to teach my own opinions openly.82 Then they asked me to prepare the first Part also by the same Method, as soon as I could. Not to disappoint my friends, I immediately undertook to do this and finished it in two weeks. I delivered it to my [20] friends, who in the end asked me to let them publish the whole work. They easily won my agreement, on the condition that one of them, in my presence, would provide it with a more elegant style and add a short Preface warning Readers that I did not acknowledge all the opinions contained in this treatise as my own, since I had written many things [25] in it which were the very opposite of what I held,d and illustrating this by one or two examples. One of my friends, to whose care the publishing of this little book has been entrusted, has promised to do all this and that is why I stayed for a while in Amsterdam. Since I returned to this village where I am now living, I have hardly been my own master because of the friends who have been kind enough to visit me.

[IV/64] Now at last, dearest Friend, I have some time to myself to communicate these things to you, and at the same time tell you why I am letting this Treatise see the light of day: perhaps it will induce some who hold high positions in my country to want to see other things I [5] have written, which I acknowledge as my own, so that they would see to it that I can publish without any danger of inconvenience. If this happens, I have no doubt that I will publish certain things immediately. If not, I shall be silent rather than force my opinions on [10] men against the will of my country and make them hostile to me. I beg you, then, honored Friend, not to mind waiting for that. Then you will have either the printed Treatise itself, or a summary of it, as you request. If, meanwhile, you wish to have one or two copies of the work now in the press, I shall comply with your wish as soon as [15] I learn of it and of a way I can conveniently send the work to you.

I turn now to your Letter, and thank you and the Very Noble Boyle, as I must, for the kindness and generosity you have clearly shown me. For the many affairs of great importance in which you are [20] involved could not make you forget your Friend; indeed you kindly promise to take every care that our correspondence will henceforth not be interrupted for so long. I am also quite grateful to the Very Learned Mr. Boyle for being so good as to reply to my Notes, even if he does so in passing, and as if doing something else. For my part, [25] I confess that they are not so important that that Most Learned Gentleman should waste in replying to them the time he can spend on higher thoughts.

I did not think, indeed I could not have persuaded myself, that this Most Learned Gentleman had no other object in his Treatise on Niter [30] than to show the weak foundations of that childish and frivolous doctrine of Substantial Forms and Qualities. I had persuaded myself, rather, that the Distinguished Gentleman wanted to explain the nature of Niter to us, that it is a heterogeneous body, consisting of fixed and volatile parts. So I wanted by my explanation to show—and I think I did show more than adequately—that we can very easily explain all [35] the Phenomena of Niter, or at least all the Phenomena that I know, [IV/65] even if we don’t grant that Niter is a heterogeneous body, but regard it as homogeneous. Hence it was not my task to show that the fixed salt is an impurity in Niter, but only to suppose it, to see how the Distinguished Gentleman could show me that that salt is not an impurity [5] but is absolutely necessary to constitute the essence of Niter, without which Niter could not be conceived. For as I say, that is what I thought the Distinguished Gentleman wanted to show.

Regarding my statement that the fixed salt has passages hollowed out according to the measure of the particles of Niter, I did not require [10] this to explain the reconstitution of Niter. For from what I have said—that the reconstitution of niter consists only in the solidification of its spirit—it is clear that every calx whose passages are too narrow to be able to contain the particles of Niter and whose walls are weak is suitable for checking the motion of the particles of Niter, and so, on [15] my Hypothesis, for reconstituting the Niter itself. Hence it is no wonder that there are other salts, say, of tartar and of potash, with whose aid Niter can be reconstituted.

But I only said that the fixed salt of Niter has passages hollowed out according to the measure of the particles of Niter to give a reason why the fixed salt of Niter is more suitable for reconstituting Niter so [20] that it lacks little of its former weight. Indeed, from the fact that other salts are found by which Niter can be reconstituted I thought to show that calx of Niter is not required to constitute the essence of Niter, if the Distinguished Gentleman had not said that there is no salt more universal than Niter, so that it could have been concealed in tartar and potash.83

When I said further that the particles of Niter in the larger passages are surrounded by a finer matter, I inferred that from the impossibility of a vacuum, as the Distinguished Gentleman notes. But I do not know why he calls the impossibility of a vacuum a Hypothesis, since it follows very clearly from the fact that nothing has no properties. And I am surprised that the Distinguished Gentleman doubts this, [30] since he seems to maintain that there are no real accidents. I ask whether there would not be a real accident if there were Quantity without Substance?

As for the causes of the difference in taste between Niter and spirit of Niter, I was obliged to propose them to show how I could very [35] easily explain its Phenomena from the only difference I was willing to [IV/66] allow between Niter and spirit of Niter, without taking any account of the fixed salt.

What I said about the inflammability of Niter and the noninflammability of Spirit of Niter supposes only that to arouse a flame in any [5] body requires a matter which separates and sets in motion the parts of the body. I think reason and daily experience adequately teach both these lessons.

I pass now to the experiments I offered to confirm my explanation—not absolutely, but as I expressly said [at IV/17/13] to some extent. So [10] against the first experiment I offered the Distinguished Gentleman brings nothing except what I myself very expressly noted. But of the other things I attempted, to remove the suspicion the Distinguished Gentleman joins me in noting, he says nothing at all.

What he offers next, against the second experiment—that by purification [15] Niter is for the most part freed of a certain salt resembling ordinary salt—he only says, but does not prove. For as I expressly said, I did not offer these experiments that they might confirm absolutely what I said. It was only that these experiments, which I had said and showed to agree with reason, seemed to confirm those things [20] to some extent. As for his contention that the rising to form little icicles is common to this and other salts, I do not know what this matters. For I grant that other salts also have impurities and are made more volatile if they are freed of them.

I also do not see that anything touching me is brought against the third experiment.

In the fifth section I thought the noble author was criticizing Descartes, [25] which he has certainly done elsewhere, by the liberty of Philosophizing granted to anyone, without any harm to the Nobility of either. Perhaps others who have read both Descartes’ Principles and Mr. Boyle’s writings will think the same thing I did, unless they are expressly warned.84

Nor do I yet see that the Distinguished Gentleman explains his opinion very clearly. For he does not yet say whether Niter would [30] cease to be Niter if its visible icicles (of which alone he says he is speaking) were rubbed until they were changed into parallelipeds or some other shape.

But I leave these matters and pass to what the Distinguished Gentleman [NS: answers to the things I noted on] §§ 13 to 18. I willingly confess that this reconstitution of Niter is indeed an excellent [35] experiment for investigating the very nature of Niter when we first [IV/67] know the Mechanical principles of Philosophy and that all the variations of bodies happen according to the Laws of Mechanics. But I deny that these things follow more clearly and evidently from the experiment just mentioned than from many other readily available experiments, from which, however, this is not proven.

[5] The Distinguished Gentleman says he has not found these things to be so clearly taught and discussed in others. Perhaps he has something which I cannot see to allege against the reasonings of Bacon and Descartes by which he thinks he can refute them. I do not recount their reasonings here, because I do not think the Distinguished Gentleman is unfamiliar with them. But I will say this: they too wanted [10] the Phenomena to agree with their reason; if they nevertheless erred in some things, they were men, and I think nothing human was alien to them.85

He says, further, that there is a great difference between those experiments (the readily available and doubtful ones I have adduced), where we don’t know what Nature contributes and what things intervene, [15] and those regarding which it is established with certainty what things are contributed. But I do not yet see that the Distinguished Gentleman has explained to us the Nature of the things used in this matter, the calx of Niter and its Spirit. So these two things seem no less obscure than those I have adduced, ordinary lime and water [NS: [20] from whose combination heat arises]. As for wood, I grant that this body is more composite than Niter. But so long as I do not know the Nature of either, and the way heat arises in each, what, I ask, does it matter?

Again, I do not know why the Distinguished Gentleman is bold enough to maintain that he knows what Nature contributes in the [25] matter we are speaking of. By what reasoning, I ask, will he be able to show us that that heat has not arisen from some very fine matter? Was it perhaps because so little of the original weight was lacking? But even if none was lacking, one could, in my judgment at least, infer nothing. For we see how easily a thing can be imbued with a color from a very [30] small quantity of matter, and not on that account become sensibly heavier or lighter. So it is not without reason that I can doubt whether perhaps certain things have concurred which could not have been observed by any sense perception—especially so long as we do not know how all those Variations which the Distinguished Gentleman observed in experimenting could have come about from the bodies mentioned. [35] Indeed I regard it as certain that the heat and the effervescence the [IV/68] Distinguished Gentleman recounts have arisen from foreign matter.

Next, I think I can infer that movement of the air is the cause of sound more easily from the boiling of water (not to mention its agitation) than I can from this experiment, where the nature of things [5] that concur is completely unknown and where heat is also observed, without our knowing how or from what causes it has arisen.

Finally, there are many things which give off no smell at all, though if their parts are stirred up and become warm, they will give off a smell immediately, and if they are cooled again, they have no smell [10] again (at least as far as human sense perception is concerned). Amber is an example, and there are others, though I don’t know whether they too are more composite than Niter.

The things I noted regarding § 24 show that spirit of Niter is not a pure Spirit, but abounds in calx of Niter and other things. So I doubt whether the Distinguished Gentleman has been able to observe carefully [15] enough what he says he detected with the aid of the scales, that the weight of the Spirit of Niter which he added almost equaled the weight of what had been lost during the detonation.

Finally, although as far as the eye is concerned pure water can dissolve alkaline salts more quickly [than other salts], nevertheless, since [20] it is a more homogeneous body than air is, it cannot, as air can, have so many kinds of particles which can penetrate through the pores of every kind of calx. So since water consists mostly of certain particles of one kind, which can dissolve a calx up to a certain limit, but air does not, it follows that water will dissolve the calx to that limit far [25] more quickly than air does. But since air, on the other hand, consists of both thicker and much finer particles, and particles of every kind, which can penetrate in many ways through far narrower pores than those the particles of water can penetrate, it follows that though air cannot dissolve calx of Niter so quickly as water does (because air [30] cannot consist of so many particles of each kind), nevertheless it can dissolve it far better and more finely, and make it weaker and hence better able to halt the motion of the particles of the Spirit of Niter. For so far the experiments do not force me to recognize any other [35] difference between Spirit of Niter and Niter itself than that the partides [IV/69] of Niter are at rest, whereas those of the Spirit of Niter, having been very much stirred up, are in motion among themselves. So there is the same difference between Niter and its Spirit as there is between ice and water.

I dare not detain you any longer on these matters. I fear I have been [5] too prolix already, though I have tried to be as brief as I could. If I have, nonetheless, been burdensome, I beg you to overlook it and to take in good part what is said freely and sincerely by a Friend. For I judged it unwise, now that I write to you again, to be completely [10] silent on these matters. Still, to praise to you what was less pleasing would be sheer flattery. Nothing, I think, is more destructive and harmful in Friendships than that. I resolved, therefore, to explain my mind as frankly as possible, and thought nothing would be more welcome to Philosophers than that.

Meanwhile, if it seems more advisable to you to consign these thoughts to the fire rather than pass them on to the Very Learned Mr. Boyle, [15] do as you please, provided you believe me to be very devoted and loving to you and to the Very Noble Boyle. I am sorry my slender means prevent me from showing this otherwise than by words; however, etc.

[Voorburg, 17/27 July 1663]

LETTER 14
HENRY OLDENBURG TO THE DISTINGUISHED B. D. S

Distinguished Sir, Most Cherished Friend,

[25] I find much happiness in the renewal of our correspondence; know, then, with what gladness I received your letter to me of 17/27 July, especially since it both gives evidence of your well-being and makes me more certain of your friendship towards me. If that were not enough, [IV/70] you report that you have entrusted to the press the first and second part of Descartes’ Principles, demonstrated in the Geometric style, and very generously offer me one or two copies of it. I accept the gift most willingly and ask you, if you will, to send me the Treatise now in the [5] press via Mr. Pieter Serrarius, of Amsterdam.86 I have instructed him to receive such a package and forward it to me by a friend traveling in this direction.

For the rest, permit me to tell you that I bear impatiently your [10] continued suppression of those writings you acknowledge as your own, especially in a Republic so free that there you are permitted to think what you will and say what you think. I wish you would break through those barriers, particularly since you can conceal your name, and so put yourself beyond any chance of danger.

[15] The noble Boyle has gone away. As soon as he is back in the City, I shall communicate to him that part of your very learned Letter which concerns him and write you his opinion of your views as soon as I have obtained it. I think you have already seen his Sceptical Chymist, which for some time now has been published in Latin and distributed [20] abroad.87 It contains many Chemico-Physical Paradoxes and subjects the so-called Hypostatic principles of the Spagyrists to a severe examination.

Recently he has published another booklet, which perhaps has not yet reached your Booksellers. So I send it to you enclosed with this [25] letter, and ask you, cordially, to take this little gift in good part. As you will see, this booklet contains a defense of the Elastic power of air against a certain Francis Linus who tries to explain the phenomena Mr. Boyle recounts in his New Physicomechanical Experiments, by a certain little thread which escapes the intellect as much as it does all sense perception.88 Read this booklet, weigh it, and let me know your opinion [30] of it.

Our Royal Society is vigorously pursuing its goal with all its power, keeping itself within the bounds of experiments and observations, and avoiding all the intricacies of Disputations.

Recently an excellent experiment has been performed which greatly distresses those who affirm [35] a vacuum, but very much pleases those who deny [IV/71] one. It proceeds as follows. Let a glass Flask A, filled to the top with water, be inverted with its mouth in a glass jar, B, containing water, and placed in the Receiver of Mr. Boyle’s New Air Pump. [5] Then let the air be pumped out of the Receiver. Bubbles will be seen to rise in great abundance from the water into the Flask, A, and to expel all the water from there into the jar B, below the surface [10] of the water contained there. Let the two vessels be left in this condition for a day or two, the air being evacuated from the Receiver repeatedly by frequent pumpings. Then let them be taken out [15] of the Receiver, let A be filled with this water from which the air has been removed and inverted again in B, and let each vessel be enclosed again in the Receiver. When the Receiver has been [20] emptied again by the required pumping, perhaps a little bubble will be seen to rise from the neck of A. As it comes up at the top and expands with the continued pumping, it will expel all the water from the Flask, as before. Then the Flask is to be taken out of the Receiver [25] again, filled to the top with water from which air has been removed, inverted as before, and put in the Receiver. The air is then to be duly evacuated from the Receiver, and if this has been done properly and completely, the water will remain suspended in the Flask in such a way that it does not descend at all.

In this experiment the cause which, according to Boyle, sustains the [30] water in the Torricellian experiment (the air lying on the water in the jar, B) seems to be completely removed, but the water in the Flask does not descend.89

I had meant to add more here, but friends and business call me away. [NS: I shall only mention this: if you would like to send me the things you are having printed, please address your letters and [35] packages in the following way, etc.]

[IV/72] I cannot conclude this letter without urging you once again to publish your own meditations. I shall never stop exhorting you until you grant my request. Meanwhile, if you were willing to share with me [5] some of the main results, how much would I love you! how closely would I judge myself to be bound to you! May everything prosper with you, and may you continue to love me as you do,

Your Most Devoted and Friendly,
Henry Oldenburg

London, 31 July[/10 August] 1663

LETTER 15
B. DE SPINOZA OFFERS CORDIAL GREETINGS TO MR. LODEWIJK MEYER

Dearest Friend,

The preface you sent me by our friend de Vries I return to you by [15] him. As you will see, I have noted a few things in the margin, but a few still remain, which I thought it more advisable to tell you of by letter.

First, when you advise the reader on p. 4 of the occasion on which I composed the first part, I wish you would also advise, either there or elsewhere, as you please, that I composed it within two weeks. For [20] with this warning no one will think I have set these things out so clearly that they could not be explained more clearly, and therefore they will not be held up by a word or two if here and there they happen to find something obscure.

Second, I wish you would point out to them that I demonstrate many things in a way different from the way Descartes demonstrated them, not to correct Descartes, but to retain my own order better and [25] not increase the number of axioms so much, and that for the same reason I demonstrate many things Descartes asserts without any demonstration, and have had to add others Descartes omitted.

Finally, dearest friend, I ask you most urgently to omit—to delete entirely—what you have written at the end against that petty man.90 [30] Many reasons incline me to ask this of you, but I shall mention only [IV/73] one. I would wish everyone to be convinced without difficulty that these things are published for the benefit of all men, that in publishing this little book you are possessed only by a desire to spread the truth, that you are taking the greatest care to make this little work pleasing [5] to everyone, that you are generously and with good will inviting men to study the true philosophy, and are aiming at the advantage of all. Everyone will easily believe this when he sees that no one is injured and that nothing is put forward that could be offensive to anyone. If afterwards, however, that man wants to show his malice, then you [10] will be able to portray his life and character, and not without approval. So I ask you to let yourself be persuaded to wait till then, and not to mind doing so.

Believe that I am most devoted to you,

Yours with all good will,
B. de Spinoza

Voorburg, 3 August 1663

[15] Our friend de Vries had promised to take this with him, but because he does not know when he will return to you, I am sending it by someone else. With it I enclose part of IIP27S, as it begins on p. 75, for you to give to the printer, so that it can be set again. What I [20] am sending you here must be printed again, and 14 or 15 lines must be added. These can easily be inserted.

LETTER 16
HENRY OLDENBURG TO THE DISTINGUISHED B. D. S.

Most Excellent Sir, and Cherished Friend,

Hardly three or four days have passed since I sent you a Letter by the ordinary post. In that letter I mentioned a certain booklet written by Mr. Boyle, which I wanted to send you. I did not then hope to [IV/74] find so quickly a friend who would take it. Since then someone has appeared more quickly than I had expected. So receive, now, what I could not send then, together with the courteous greetings of Mr. Boyle, who has now returned to the City from the country.

[5] He asks you to consult the Preface to his Experiments on Niter, to understand the true goal he had set himself in that Work: to show that the teachings of a more solid Philosophy, which is now appearing again,91 can be illustrated by clear experiments, and that these [experiments] can be explained very well without the forms, qualities and [10] futile elements of the Schools. But he did not at all take it on himself to teach the nature of Niter nor even to reject what anyone can maintain about the homogeneity of matter and about the differences of bodies arising only from motion, shape, etc. He says he had only wished to show that the various textures of bodies produce their various [15] differences, that from these proceed quite different effects, and that so long as the resolution to prime matter has not been accomplished, Philosophers and others rightly infer some heterogeneity from this. I should not think that there is any fundamental difference between you and Mr. Boyle here.

But as for your contention that every calx whose passages are too [20] narrow to be able to contain the particles, and whose walls are weak, is suitable to check the motion of the particles of Niter, and so to reconstitute the Niter, Boyle replies that if spirit of Niter is mixed with other calxes, it will nevertheless not compose true Niter with them.

[25] With regard to the Reasoning you use to overthrow a vacuum, Boyle says he is familiar with it and has seen it before, but is not at all satisfied with it. He says there will be an opportunity to speak about this elsewhere.

He has requested me to ask you whether you can supply him with an example in which two odorous bodies combined into one compose [30] a completely odorless body, as Niter is. He says that the parts of Niter are such that its Spirit gives off a very foul smell and that fixed Niter is not without any smell.

He asks next that you consider carefully whether you have made a proper comparison between ice and water, on the one hand, and Niter [35] and its Spirit, on the other, since all the ice is resolved only into water, [IV/75] and the odorless ice, when it has become water again, remains odorless. But spirit of Niter and the fixed salt of Niter are found to have different qualities, as the printed Treatise abundantly teaches.

I gathered these and similar things from conversation about this [5] with our Illustrious Author, though I am certain that with my weak memory I recollect them to his disadvantage rather than to his credit. Since the two of you are in agreement on the main point, I do not want to enlarge further on this. I would rather encourage you both to unite your abilities in cultivating eagerly a genuine and solid Philosophy. [10] May I advise you especially to continue to establish the principles of things by the acuteness of your Mathematical understanding, as I constantly urge my Noble friend Boyle to confirm and illustrate this philosophy by experiments and observations, repeatedly and accurately made.

You see, Dearest Friend, what I am striving for. I know that in this [15] Kingdom our native Philosophers will not shirk their experimental duty. I am no less convinced that you in your Country will zealously do your part, however much the mob of Philosophers or Theologians may growl, whatever accusations they may make. Since in past letters I have already urged you to this many times, I restrain myself now, [20] so as not to become tedious.

I do at least ask this much in addition: please be so kind as to send me as quickly as possible, by Mr. Serrarius, whatever you have already had printed, whether it is your commentary on Descartes or what you have produced from the resources of your own intellect. You will bind me that much more closely to you, and will understand [25] that at every opportunity, I am

Your most devoted,
Henry Oldenburg

London, 4 August 1663

1 The subject of a long appendix in Gueroult 1, 1:500-528. It should be noted that Gueroult preferred the revised version published in English translation in Grene: “The mathematical formulas I used in appendix 9 do not satisfy me, for they are faulty. I had wished to avoid the formulas of the differential calculus because it had not been invented when Spinoza wrote his 12th Letter. But his thought can only be rendered by the formulas of this calculus. You will find them in the English translation.…” (personal correspondence, 21 December 1970).

2 In what follows I summarize the conclusions of Akkerman, in AHW, 11-13.

3 Spinoza’s spelling often betrays the fact that he seems to have been more at home in Spanish than in Latin or Dutch (on this see IV/95/12 and the note thereto). On his knowledge of Latin, see Leopold. Spinoza’s Latin is not always strictly correct, but as Leopold points out, it has a terse elegance and compares favorably, both stylistically and grammatically, with much of the Latin written by his contemporaries. In the judgment of Akkerman, Spinoza wrote a Dutch which was awkward, when measured by strict standards regarding style and choice of words, but not without a certain charm.

1 Quasi per transennam. AHW explain that a transenna was a lattice used by merchants to allow prospective customers to look at their merchandise without being able to examine it too closely. From this and other indications (cf. IV/6/12, IV/8/13, IV/11/27-12/1), it appears that Spinoza was somewhat guarded in his initial conversation with Oldenburg.

2 Oldenburg refers here to Robert Boyle, who did indeed publish in 1661 a work titled Certain Physiological Essays. These were essays in physics or chemistry, rather than anything we would now call physiology. But Oldenburg misdescribes the contents of the work actually published under that title. Though it treated of fluidity and solidity, it did not describe Boyle’s experiments on the elasticity of air. The latter had been published in 1660. Oldenburg appears to be referring to a projected Latin work which would have combined translations of the pneumatic essays with translations of the work on fluidity and solidity (or ‘firmness,’ to use Boyle’s term). See p. 7 of the Preface to the Essays on Nitre (Saltpetre) in Boyle 2.

3 AHW note that this proverb is traceable to Pythagoras, and already appears as a familiar saying in Terence’s Adelphi, 803.

4 The numbers for definitions, propositions and axioms here and in footnote 5 are added to the text for convenience. It should be noted that the formula use here to define attribute will be used in Letter 4 to define substance. See IV/13/32-34 and compare IV/46/2-6.

5 The phrase “this definition” might refer to D1 or to what appears to be an alternative definition in ll. 2-3, that God is a being supremely perfect and absolutely infinite. If, as Hubbeling thinks (55), Spinoza does, at this stage, regard the latter as a satisfactory alternative, he will later change his mind. See Letter 60, IV/271/2-7.

6 At this point the OP has a note (presumably by the editors) referring the reader to the beginning of the Ethics through EIP4. But the lost geometric enclosure sent to Oldenburg in fact represents a transitional stage between the Short Treatise and the Ethics. From Letter 4 we can reconstruct at least some of its assumptions. (Cf. Wolf 3, 371-373, and Hubbeling.) There would have been a further definition:

[D3] By modification, or accident, I understand what is in another and is conceived through that in which it is. (Cf. IV/13/34)

And four axioms:

[Al] Substance is by nature prior to its accidents. (Cf. IV/14/1)

[A2] Except for substances and accidents there is nothing real, or outside the intellect. (Cf. IV/14/2)

[A3] Things which have different attributes have nothing in common with one another. (Cf. IV/14/6)

[A4] If two things have nothing in common with one another, one cannot be the cause of the other. (Cf. IV/14/9)

In most respects this is much closer to the first appendix to the Short Treatise than to the Ethics. The propositions of the enclosure correspond to the propositions of the Short Treatise and axioms 1, 3, and 4 correspond to axioms in the Short Treatise. There is, however, evidence of development. The enclosure gives considerable prominence to definitions, which do not occur in the Short Treatise, and though a new axiom has been added, the overall number of axioms has been reduced.

The Ethics shows still further development. Presumably in response to Oldenburg’s objections (IV/10-11), the axioms of the enclosure become propositions in the Ethics (Al, 3, and, 4 = E IP1, 2, and 3; A2 is not stated as a proposition in the Ethics, but occurs in E IP4D and follows readily from E ID3, D5, and A1). And substance and attribute are defined by different formulas. Hubbeling (65-67) attempts a reconstruction of the demonstrations of the propositions, in which he suggests that Spinoza’s proof of P1 assumed two further principles: that every definition, or clear and distinct idea, is true (cf. IV/13/12-13) and Leibniz’s principle of the identity of indiscernibles.

7 The reference may be to Bacon’s Novum Organum I, 41, though in some respects Spinoza’s paraphrase is closer to a passage in “The Plan of the Work” (Bacon, I, 138-139). On Bacon’s use of the terms analogia and radius see Ellis’ notes at pp. 130, 138.

8 Gebhardt, following a marginal note in the NS, emends the OP’s fluxa to fluida, but as Wolf points out, fluxa is Bacon’s term in the passage Spinoza is quoting, Novum Organum I, 51.

9 Novum Organum I, 48.

10 The Philosophical Group referred to here was an informal gathering of scientists of Baconian inclinations, who began to meet in London and Oxford in about 1645. It was soon to be incorporated under a royal charter whereupon it became the Royal Society (see Letter 7, IV/37/23).

11 AHW regard the Latin text of this sentence, which is lacking in the NS, as doubtful.

12 Oldenburg did not use the term notio communis, but had asked whether the axioms were indemonstrable principles, known by the natural light and requiring no proof. Spinoza’s introduction of the term in his reply gives us a gloss on his own usage. See also the Glossary-Index on axiom.

13 NS: which is through itself and is conceived in itself.

14 This would not have been the English edition of Certain Physiological Essays (Boyle 2) (since Spinoza could not read English, see Letter 26), but the Latin translation of those essays (Boyle 3) also published in 1661 (not, pace Wolf, 1665).

15 In his experiment on the ‘redintegration’ or reconstitution of niter Boyle melted niter in a crucible, added a live coal which kindled the niter, and continued adding coals until the kindling stopped. The mixture was then heated further until all ‘the volatile part’ escaped. The remaining ‘fixed niter’ was then divided into two parts. Boyle dissolved one part in water, then added drops of ‘spirit of niter.’ This was continued until the effervescence stopped. The other part was treated similarly, except that the fixed niter was not first dissolved in water. Each solution was then set to evaporate near an open window. The first solution crystallized in a few hours, yielding niter. The second solution crystallized very slowly, but after water was added and the solution was evaporated, niter crystals were also produced.

Boyle had two main interests in performing this experiment. First, according to the Scholastic theory of substantial forms, the properties of a natural substance like niter were supposed to be accounted for by its possession of a ‘form,’ which would be destroyed if the substance underwent substantial change. The redintegration of niter was intended to show that such substances could be broken up into more elementary constituents and then made whole again by reuniting the constituents. So the properties of the whole were to be explained, not by its possession of a form, but by the composition of its parts.

Second, Boyle wanted to show that the secondary qualities of things (taste, smell, temperature, etc.) were caused by primary qualities (size, shape, arrangement, motion) of their constituents. So, for example, the fact that the constituents of niter differed markedly in taste and smell from one another and from the compound was to show that these qualities of the various substances depended on the size, shape, arrangement and motion of their parts. Spinoza has no quarrel with these general aims (cf. IV/25/5, IV/64/27).

Boyle’s ‘niter’ is generally identified with potassium nitrate, his ‘fixed niter’ with potassium carbonate, and his ‘spirit of niter’ with nitric acid. Crommelin gives equations for the reactions, which, if correct, illustrate the role of carbon in the experiment (unsuspected by Boyle) and indicate that the ‘fixed niter’ was not, as he thought, simply a part of the niter. But it is doubtful that Boyle was dealing with pure substances, and the equations probably oversimplfy the situation. If Boyle was right in identifying the ‘volatile part’ given off in the first reaction with the spirit of niter added in the second, there must have been a source of hydrogen.

16 I.e., the ‘fixed niter,’ which on Spinoza’s hypothesis is an impurity in the niter (IV/17-18).

17 In § 9 Boyle reports having weighed the spirit of niter necessary to fully dissolve the fixed niter and having compared that weight with the weight lost by the niter when it was separated from its spirit. The weights were nearly, but not quite equal.

a If you ask why there was effervescence when the spirit of niter was dropped on the dissolved fixed salt, read the note regarding § 24. [When Boyle dropped spirit of niter on the fixed niter, he found that “the saline particles of these liquors toss one another (or are tossed by some brisk invisible substance) to the height of divers fingers breadth up into the air, whence most of them fall back into the vessel like a thick shower of little drops of rain … the particles thus thrown into the air appear to be most of them saline by this observation … soon after the fall of the fore-mentioned showers, you shall find the sides of the glass … all embroidered with little grains of salt, left there by those wandering drops that fell beside the liquor.”]

18 See Descartes, Principles of Philosophy IV, 110.

b When I tried this, the air was very clear. [A: NB This ought to be done in clear weather.]

19 A: “I moistened a glass flask with its smoke (taking care that the flask was cold enough).”

20 In A the conclusions are formulated as follows: “(i) that in the melting the parts of niter are separated from that fixed salt, and though the flame drives off the fixed parts also, it drives them off only separated from what the distinguished author calls the volatile parts; (ii) that after these volatile parts have once been separated from the fixed salt, they cannot penetrate through its pores again because their motion is less violent; from which it follows (iii) that the parts of the smoke which stuck to the flask and hardened into little circles of niter in the cold air were parts of niter, separated from the fixed salt, and that the niter into which they formed was crystals, which consisted only of volatile parts.”

21 The Halls note that “Boyle was one of the first to recognize that salts normally crystallize in regular and characteristic figures, which cannot be altered.” (Oldenburg, 1:468).

22 Boyle in fact refers to “those more secondary affections of bodies which are wont to be called sensible qualities.” ‘Tactile qualities,’ like heat and cold, are among these, but so are sound, color, taste and smell.

23 The Halls remark at this point that: “Nothing better illustrates the gulf of incomprehension separating Spinoza from an experimental philosopher like Boyle than this and the following statement—expressing a position with which Leibniz was later to agree. Needless to say, many of Spinoza’s errors arise precisely from his inability to realize that pure ratiocination could not solve all the mysteries of the physical world.” (Oldenburg, 1: 468). The reference to Leibniz is presumably to the following passage: “Mr. Boyle spends too much time, to be truthful, drawing from an infinity of splendid experiments no other conclusions than those which he could have taken for principles of nature … which one can certify to be true from reason alone, whereas experiments, no matter how numerous, cannot prove them.” (Quoted in Hall 1, 43).

It is not, however, clear that Spinoza’s position is identical with Leibniz’s. Both are clearly impatient with Boyle’s belaboring a point they regard as evident. But where Leibniz talks of certifying the point by reason alone, Spinoza seems to regard it as demonstrated by the less recondite ‘experiments’ adduced by Bacon and Descartes. For more on this theme, see IV/50/14ff., and IV/66/32ff. Since Spinoza has begun his critique of Boyle by complaining that Boyle had not done enough experiments to prove his conclusions (IV/16/14ff.), it is ironic that he should be criticized for trying to solve all the mysteries of the physical world by pure ratiocination.

c In the letter I sent I deliberately omitted these words [i.e., those in italics].

24 Boyle found that when he put the ‘parts’ of the niter together again, they immediately “agitated each other with great vehemency,” producing a considerable heat, which lasted as long as the agitation lasted. Boyle inferred that heat was “nothing but a various and nimble motion of the minute particles of bodies.”

25 The reunion of the parts of the niter was also accompanied by “a very audible sound, not unlike the hissing produced by the quenching of a live coal in water.… This sound seemed to proceed from the nimble and smart percussions of the ambient air, made by the swift and irregular motions of the particles of the liquors.”

26 “There seems to be a very nimble agitation in the particles of the spirit of nitre, by this, that upon the pouring of aqua fortis (whose active part is little else than spirit of nitre) upon a solution of salt of tartar in fair water, in which divers small lumps of the salt remained yet undissolved, we have observed the acid spirit to sever the particles of the salt with such impetuosity that the numberless little bubbles produced upon their conflict, and hastily ascending in swarms from some of the little lumps, made them emulate so many little, but rapidly rising, springs … after the two contrary salts had by their mutual conflict tired each other, (or rather had been upon their occursions fastened to one another) there would follow no further ebullition or skipping up and down of little drops of the liquors, upon the putting in of more spirit of nitre, unless there were added likewise more of the alkalizate liquor.”

27 OP, A: impulsus, NS: drift/impetus. (This is only one of a number of variations in the marginal notes at this point.)

28 The Halls note that: “Spinoza … failed to understand what an alkali (or acid) might be. Boyle was the first chemist who was able to establish the modern classification of substances into acid, alkaline, and neutral.” (Oldenburg, 1:468).

29 “It is not barely an indefinite nimbleness of motion and activity of the particles of saline liquors that enables them to perform each of their particular effects: for to the production of some of these there seems requisite, besides perhaps a modification of their motion, a determinate figure of the corpuscles, answerable to that of the pores of the body to be dissolved; as spirit of nitre corrodes silver, but not gold; which nevertheless its particles associated with those of sal-ammoniac, and thereby acquiring a new figure, and perhaps a differing motion, will readily dissolve.”

30 In § 33 (Latin edition only), Boyle writes: “We shall never be able to investigate so thoroughly the subtle workings of nature that there will not remain many natural phenomena which cannot be explained on the principles of the Atomical philosophy.” The English version (which, of course, Spinoza did not see) is more cautious, saying only that perhaps men will not be able to give intelligible (i.e., mechanical) explanations of all things. Cf. Boyle 2, with Boyle 3.

In the Proemial Essay (p. 21 of Boyle 2), Boyle writes: “… I elsewhere declare that there are some things, as particularly the origin of local motion, of which even by the Atomical Doctrine no physical cause can well be rendered, since either such things must be ascribed to God, who is indeed the true, but the supernatural cause of them, or else it must be said that they did ever belong to matter, which, considering that the notion of matter may be compleat without them, is not to give a physical cause of the things in question, but in effect to confess that they have no causes.” I assume that it is to this passage (which does not differ materially in the Latin version) that Spinoza means to refer when he cites p. 23 of the Proemial Essay, though this passage in fact occurs on p. 21 in Boyle 3 also.

31 Here and in the following pages I have expanded Spinoza’s quotations from Boyle to make them more intelligible.

32 In the passage in question Boyle is proposing a theory of fluidity alternative to that of the Epicureans, for whom fluid bodies were thought to be composed of smooth, round atoms which could easily be separated from one another (he quotes Lucretius, De rerum natura II, 451-456). Boyle allows that in some liquids the component particles may be smooth and round, and that this would contribute to their fluidity, but argues that the qualities of some other fluids indicate a different shape in the components. He suggests three conditions of fluidity: (i) smallness of the component particles, (ii) the existence of empty spaces or “some yielding matter” around the component particles, or at least around those on the surface of the fluid, and most importantly (iii) the motion of the component particles.

33 The qualification in parenthesis occurs in the OP, but not in A.

34 Comprobare. See the Glossary-Index on confirm.

35 A: “by reasoning and calculation.” What Spinoza here is saying cannot be proven by experiment seems to be not so much “the particulate structure of matter” (cf. Hall 3, 244), as the slightness of the force required to put particles in motion. Spinoza’s view seems to be that, if bodies are infinitely divisible, the force required to move their parts may be indefinitely small. The infinite divisibility of bodies is not an experimental question, so neither is the calculation that effective forces may be indefinitely small.

36 Boyle goes on to cite a number of examples, the first of which is the dissolution of bones into minute parts by the stomach juices of dogs to form chyle and blood.

37 Gebhardt reproduces the reading of the OP: “concerning a thing uncertain.” AHW reinstate the reading of A and NS, and I have followed them. I take it that Spinoza is somewhat diffident about offering arguments in favor of a thesis he regards as sufficiently clear without argument: that fluidity is not a function of size.

38 In this section Boyle describes an experiment designed to show that the shape as well as the size of its component particles may be a hindrance to a body’s fluidity. He distilled olive oil slowly in a glass retort and found that about a third of the oil driven into the receiver coagulated into “a whitish body almost like butter. So that although it seemed manifest by the strong smell and very piercing taste of this white substance that the oil which afforded it had its particles, as it were, torn in pieces, and though distillation be wont to obtain liquors even from consistent bodies, yet in our experience of a concrete that is naturally fluid, the distilled liquor itself proves not to be so; of which no cause seems more obvious than that the newly acquired shape of the dissipated parts of the oily corpuscles makes them unfit for motion, either absolutely speaking, or at least in respect of one another.…” Then follows the phrase Spinoza quotes.

39 In A this paragraph reads: “So when particles of butter are floating in the whey, they compose part of the milk. But after the milk or cream acquires a new motion, to which not all the parts composing the whole milk can accommodate themselves so easily as to their first motion, the parts of the butter become too light to be able to compose a fluid with the whey, and they are also too heavy to compose a fluid with the air. And because they have an irregular shape, as is evident from the fact that they could not accommodate themselves to the motion of the particles of whey, they alone can not constitute a fluid. Hence they lie on one another and are entangled with one another.”

40 In this section Boyle argues that vacant spaces (or yielding matter) around the component particles of a body contribute to fluidity, adducing the example of water compressed in a bladder, “so that its exterior particles have not about them as before the yielding air to give way to them.” Instead of giving way to a body pressing in on it, the water “emulates a hard body and resists such motions as otherwise it would readily yield to.” The Halls observe that the example is not a happy one, and that Boyle’s other example (comparing new-fallen snow and snow which has been packed into a hard ball) is better.

41 The Halls note that Boyle is here being skeptical about “The Cartesian ‘first matter,’ whose particles are very small and very flexible, so that they can fit between the particles of greater matter … and prevent the formation of a vacuum.”

42 In this section Boyle distinguishes between those fluids which can and those which cannot be regarded as “moist,” “wetting” or “humid”: “The air, the aether and even flame itself may properly be called fluid bodies, according to the notion of fluidity hitherto made out, and yet will scarce by any man be called moist liquors; and saltpetre, whilst in fusion is really a liquor, and so is every melted metal; and yet these wet not the bodies they touch, as do water and other wetting liquors.…”

43 Boyle has just pointed out that quicksilver, which will not wet most substances, will wet certain metals, like gold and tin.

44 Unlike most of the mechanical philosophers, Boyle did not reject final causes. Cf. Hall 1, 51. To Spinoza, as to Descartes, this is anathema.

45 Instead of this sentence, A has simply: “This one observation, I say, indicates completely the nature of a fluid.”

46 The title of this part of Boyle’s work is “The History of Fluidity and Firmness.” It is a history in the Baconian sense of a collection of experimental data relating to some phenomenon. Cf. IV/12/4.

47 A: “very useful, indeed, absolutely necessary to understand the special properties of fluids and to master them.”

48 Boyle has been arguing (Boyle 2, 187ff.) that the pressure of the air is a probable explanation of the fact that smooth bodies will stick together “upon bare juxtaposition or contact.” E.g., if one piece of flat glass is placed against another, parallel to the ground, the lower piece will not drop down, though it will very easily slide along the surface of the upper piece. In the present section he describes an experiment designed to estimate how great the presence of the air is. Boyle took two pieces of marble of 1½ inches in diameter, “as flat and smooth as we could get,” moistened them with spirit of wine to prevent air from coming between them, and attached a scale to one.

49 As Wolf notes, the figure that Spinoza quotes (432 ounces) is a mistake introduced by Boyle’s Latin translator.

50 A reference to another experiment described in Boyle 2, 188-189: “If you take a small open-mouthed glass and plunge it into a vessel full of quicksilver with the mouth upward, that the quicksilver may fill it without leaving any air in it, and if then, whilst it is under the quicksilver, you turn the mouth downwards, and so keeping it upright, lift it up till the mouth be almost to the top of the mercury, you shall perceive that the glass will remain almost full of quicksilver.… Of which the reason seems to be that the glass hinders the quicksilver in it from the pressure of the incumbent air, whereas the quicksilver in the vessel being exposed to it must by it necessarily be forced up against the surface of the inverted bottom of the glass … that it is not nature’s abhorrency of a vacuum that keeps the quicksilver from descending till some air can come to succeed in its room, the famous experiment invented by Torricellius, … touching the descent of quicksilver in any tube of above two foot and a half long, seems clearly to evince.” On the Torricellian experiment, see Letter 14 and Conant.

51 Spinoza evidently does not realize that the vertical and horizontal pressures are the same, though this had been shown by Pascal.

52 Here the OP and NS break off with the remark that the rest is lacking.

53 It seems clear from the description of the contents that follows that the work referred to here would have corresponded more closely to the Short Treatise than to anything else we possess. It is unclear, however, just how closely our ms. of the Short Treatise resembles the ms. Spinoza was working with at this stage. Certainly the axiomatic systems of the early correspondence seem more mature than does the first appendix of the KV.

The major question, however, is whether the work here referred to would have included the Treatise on the Intellect as a part. Gebhardt 3 argued that it would have. One difficulty with that theory is that Spinoza’s language here suggests a work completed at least in a rough draft. Joachim 2,7, suggested that “Spinoza, writing hurriedly at the end of an extremely long letter, has given a not quite accurate summary of a complicated situation,” since one part of the work (the KV) existed in a complete, if rough draft, while the other (the TdIE) was incomplete (though it may have embodied most of what he wanted to say on the emendation of the intellect). Mignini 1, 231-233, influenced partly by this difficulty and partly by his conviction that the TdIE represents an earlier stage in Spinoza’s thought than the KV does, suggests that we might regard the second part of the KV as a treatise on the emendation of the intellect. And while this may seem unlikely (on the ground that the KV II is more concerned with the effects of the intellectual improvement than with its causes), it strikes me as not impossible (cf. KV II, xix, 2-3).

54 Gebhardt notes that in this, the earliest signature we have from him, Spinoza gives his first name in a Latinized form, but his family name in a form more Portuguese than Latin. Mignini 2 argues that this letter was probably written toward the end of 1661, rather than at the later date usually assumed.

55 Thomas Hobbes and Franciscus Linus. See Letter 14 and Conant.

56 Much of this letter is omitted in the OP and the NS: for example, the reference to Casearius in the first paragraph, the whole of the next two paragraphs describing the Amsterdam Spinoza circle, and the final paragraph. Similarly, first person plurals are changed to singulars.

As AHW note, it is unclear whether “superstitiously” is meant to modify only “religious” or “Christian” as well. Gebhardt takes this passage as establishing that those who are closest to Spinoza no longer regarded themselves as Christians.

57 Giovanni Alfonso Borelli (1608-1679) was an Italian mathematician and physicist who published an edition of Euclid, Euclides restitutus, in 1658. On his work in mechanics, see Westfall, 213-229.

58 Andreas Tacquet (1612-1660) was a Belgian mathematician whose Elementa geometricae planae ac solidae was published in 1654.

59 Christopher Clavius (1537-1612) was a German mathematician who published an edition of Euclid with commentary in 1574.

60 Cf. IV/46/2-5.

61 As AHW suggest, this word seems to have been inadvertently omitted. Cf. E IP10S.

62 This reference, like the reference to P8S3 above, reflects an earlier stage in the development of the Ethics. In the OP and the NS the references are corrected to D6 and P10S.

63 AHW conjecture that the reference is to what is now P28S. Certainly it is hard to see why the present P19S should arouse special enthusiasm.

64 The first two paragraphs of this letter are omitted in the OP and NS, as is the reference to the Amsterdam Spinoza circle in the next paragraph. Similarly, the second person plurals are changed to singulars.

65 Casearius (1641 or 1642-1677) was enrolled as a student in theology at the nearby University of Leiden in 1661. In 1665 he was ordained as a minister of the Reformed Church in Amsterdam; and subsequently served in the Dutch East Indies, where he died. It was he Meyer was later to refer to as the pupil to whom Spinoza taught the Cartesian philosophy (I/129-130).

66 A has: “a thing outside us,” and then the words “outside us” are crossed out and replaced by “whose essence.” (There are a number of such indications of revision during the course of composition in this ms.)

67 Following AHW, I read differre for differt here and hoc for hae in l.32.

68 In the NS this paragraph, down to here, comes earlier, replacing the passage from IV/42/29 to IV/43/18.

69 The reference seems to be to Descartes’ Principles of Philosophy I, 49. Cf. Gueroult 1, 1:86.

70 If the usual identification of Boyle’s substances is correct (see above, n. 15), then Boyle’s fixed salt of niter was potash (potassium carbonate), though he seems not to have realized it.

71 See the Principles of Philosophy, IV, 80-132.

72 Boyle here shows the sophistication about experiments that made him a great scientist. But it is ironic that he did not in fact grasp the contribution made to his experiment by the coal he used to kindle the niter. See above, n. 15.

73 In 1663 Boyle published his Considerations touching the usefulness of experimental natural philosophy and Experiments and considerations upon colours.

74 In E IP15S, where Spinoza is discussing the arguments of those opponents who contend that extended substance cannot be infinite, he lets pass, without challenging it, their assumption that it is absurd to suppose that one infinite can be greater than another. This tempts us to think that Spinoza accepts that part of the opponent’s argument. This passage warns us not to argue from silence in that way.

75 NS: onbepaaldelijk/indeterminaté, LC: indefinité, indefinitely.

76 Following AHW who here follow the NS more closely than either of the Latin texts. The example recurs in Descartes’ Principles (I/198-199), and is discussed by Tschirnhaus and Spinoza in Letters 80 and 81 and by Gueroult in Grene, 203-209.

77 Chasdai Crescas (c. 1340-c. 1410), a Spanish critic of the Aristotelian Maimonides. See Wolfson 3.

78 This most recent addition to the Spinozistic corpus was discovered in 1974 and published in the following year. See Offenburg. That edition contains a reproduction of the original letter, written in Latin in Spinoza’s own hand, a transcription, a modern Dutch translation, and a commentary. It is interesting, among other things, as illustrating that Meyer’s role in the publication of Descartes’ Principles of Philosophy and the Metaphysical Thoughts did not consist simply in writing a preface and improving Spinoza’s Latin style.

79 This reference was not corrected in the text, but was corrected in the errata of the first edition. Similarly with the marginal correction.

80 See the note at I/271/30.

81 See the note at I/264/14.

d [NS only] In the letter I sent I omitted this and everything else printed in italics. [This presumably refers to the italicized passages at 63/24-25, 67/4-5, 67/25-26, but not to that at 66/9.]

82 Casearius, on whom see IV/42/19ff.

83 NS: “and that he might therefore say that it could be concealed in tartar and potash.”

84 NS: “… which perhaps others, who had read Descartes’ Principles and to whom I have also shown his letter, after I received it, have thought.”

85 An allusion to the well-known line from Terence’s Heautontimorumenos, 77.

86 Pieter Serrarius was a Belgian who lived in Amsterdam and traveled frequently to London. A collegiant, who expected the second coming of Christ, he was to publish in 1667 a reply to Meyer’s Philosophy the Interpreter of Holy Scripture.

87 Boyle’s Sceptical Chymist was first published in English in 1661 and in Latin in 1662. For an account of Boyle’s critique of Spagyrist theories of matter, see Hall 2.

88 For an account of Boyle’s experiments and Linus’ ad hoc counterhypothesis, see Conant.

89 As the Halls note, this experiment is one of several ‘anomalous suspensions’ much discussed at the time (Huygens had performed a similar experiment). Most of these perplexing experiments depended on the then unknown properties of surface tension and capillarity. They constitute a salutary reminder that the controversy between those who denied and those who affirmed the possibility of a vacuum was not a straightforward conflict between those who relied on a priori argument and those who relied on experiment.

90 So far no one has been able to suggest a target of Meyer’s attack.

91 Boyle welcomed the revival of Epicureanism by writers like Gassendi. But notwithstanding certain differences between the atomists and the Cartesians, their disagreement “about the notion of body in general, and consequently about the possibility of a true vacuum, as also about the origin of motion, the indefinite divisibleness of matter, and some other points of less importance,” he considered that because they agreed “in deducing all the phenomena of nature from matter and local motion … they might be thought to agree in the main, and their hypotheses might, by a person of reconciling disposition, be looked on as … one philosophy, which because it explicates things by corpuscles, or minute bodies, may be called corpuscular” Preface to the Essay on Nitre (Saltpetre), pp. 3-4, in Boyle 2. Hence, Oldenburg’s stress below on the fundamental agreement between Boyle and Spinoza.

The Expositor of Descartes

EDITORIAL PREFACE

THE WORKS presented in this section have suffered unwarranted neglect at the hands of some Spinoza scholars. Wolfson, for example, dismisses them by saying that “If these two works are not to be altogether disregarded by the student of the Ethics, they may be considered only as introductory to it.” (1, 1:32) The first he characterizes as a summary of the first two parts of Descartes’ Principles, together with a fragment of the third; the second, as a “summary of certain philosophic views of scholastic origin.” But this is most misleading. Though there is much in both works that Spinoza would not accept, in neither work is Spinoza merely summarizing anyone’s views.

In Descartes’ Principles, as Meyer remarks in his preface, Spinoza frequently offers proofs different from Descartes’—or offers proofs where Descartes had indulged in mere assertion. He makes use of other Cartesian works—notably the Correspondence, the Dioptrique, and the Meditations (including the Replies to objections)—to help interpret Descartes where Descartes is obscure or too brief. And sometimes he criticizes Descartes, though rarely does he do so openly.

The most important acknowledged points of difference are probably those Meyer notes (at Spinoza’s request) at the end of his preface (I/132): Spinoza does not think the will is distinct from the intellect, or endowed with the liberty Descartes ascribes to it; he does not think that the mind is a substance; and he does not think there is anything that surpasses our understanding, provided that we seek the truth in a way different from Descartes’. (See also the interesting Scholium to IP7.)

But there is a good deal of thinly veiled criticism in Spinoza’s exposition of the Principles. In the Introduction, for example, Spinoza comments that Descartes’ reply (or what he takes to be Descartes’ reply) to the charge of reasoning in a circle “will not satisfy some people.” He does not say who will be dissatisfied, or why, but immediately goes on to offer an answer of his own. In so doing, he subtly invites the reader to put his own critical faculties to work. Similar instances occur at IP8D, IP9S, IP15S, IP21Note, IIP2CS, and in the Metaphysical Thoughts at I/239, 255, 274, 276, and 277-281.

And quite apart from exposition, interpretation, and criticism of Descartes, there is much, particularly in the Metaphysical Thoughts, which is simply independent of Descartes. According to Meyer’s Preface (I/131) it was Spinoza’s intention—both in his exposition of the Principles and in the Appendix—to set out Descartes’ opinions, and their demonstrations, as they would be found in his writings or as they ought to be deduced validly from the fundamental principles of Descartes’ philosophy. But it would take a very generous interpretation of this last clause to justify everything that appears here. Spinoza’s discussions of Zeno’s paradoxes (IIP6S), or of truth (I/246-247), or of good and evil (I/247-248), go well beyond Descartes’ sketchy reflections on those topics. The reader who is familiar with Spinoza’s mature philosophy will find many passages which foreshadow the Ethics or the Theological-Political Treatise (e.g., at I/240-243, 250-252, 264-265, 266). And it is all the more interesting to see these anticipations developed as deductions from Cartesian principles.

The frequency with which Spinoza’s own opinions emerge in the Metaphysical Thoughts gave rise, at the turn of the century, to an interesting debate among German scholars about the relation of that work to Descartes’ Principles. Kuno Fischer (I:285) saw the Metaphysical Thoughts as having been written against Descartes, for the purpose of clarifying and emphasizing the disagreements which Meyer had alluded to in his Preface.1 Freudenthal, however, showed (i) that this work was certainly written before the first part of the Principles, and quite probably before any of the Principles (though, of course, it would have been revised somewhat before being printed), and (ii) that it was directed more against the scholastics than against Descartes.

And indeed, if Spinoza did write these works in the order suggested, there would be a certain logic to the presentation. The Metaphysical Thoughts begin with the definition of being and its division into those beings whose essence does, and those whose essence does not, involve existence, the latter being subdivided into substances and modes. There follows a discussion of various putative beings, which do not in fact qualify as beings (time, truth, etc.). The second part deals principally with the nature of the one infinite substance, God, and his relation to the world, but closes with a brief discussion of the nature of finite thinking substances. And the second part of the Principles completes the discussion by describing the most general features of finite corporeal substances. The work would thus be an introduction to modern philosophy, written from a broadly Cartesian point of view, for someone who already had some familiarity with the scholastic philosophy still dominant in Dutch universities.2 It would then be the first part of the Principles, not the “appendix,” which would be the afterthought.

Freudenthal (in Freudenthal 3) provided a great service to students of Spinoza by identifying some of the medieval and late scholastic authors who formed the background for the Metaphysical Thoughts: Aquinas and Maimonides, of course, were part of that background, but of the better-known scholastics Suarez was probably the most important. Also important were two now obscure Dutch writers, Burgersdijk and Heereboord.

Burgersdijk was a professor of philosophy at the University of Leiden from 1620 to 1635, and the author of a number of manuals which had a considerable influence on the teaching of philosophy in Holland. Dibon (277) comments that while, for Burgersdijk, Aristotle remained the master, “true fidelity to the spirit of Aristotle required each philosopher to adapt the traditional philosophy to the requirements of his own reflection, taking account of what preceding thinkers had contributed.” Burgersdijk’s openness to change clearly inspired his pupil Heereboord to be receptive to the new philosophy.

Heereboord was a professor of logic and ethics at Leiden from 1641 until his death in 1661. Like many Dutch philosophers of his time, he hoped to achieve a synthesis of the new philosophy and the old. By comparison with a Descartes or a Spinoza, he appears a reactionary figure. But he was, in fact, one of the reasons why the University of Leiden became known as a center of Dutch Cartesianism (see Bouillier, I, 270-271). Thijssen-Schoute (2, 96-105) reports that he embarrassed Descartes by his excessive praise of him.

Since there is some reason to think that Spinoza may have studied at the University of Leiden after his excommunication (see Revah 1, 32, 36), and since Heereboord may have been one of his teachers, the man and his work deserve to be less obscure. Spinoza frequently seems to have Heereboord in mind when he criticizes unnamed opponents, and Heereboord shares with Aristotle the distinction of being one of only two opponents to be both named and quoted. Nor does Spinoza refer to Heereboord only to disagree with him. Sometimes he adopts from Heereboord doctrines and distinctions which are of great importance in his mature philosophy (at I/240-241, for example). Whether or not Heereboord was formally his teacher, Spinoza learned from him.

So there is far more in these works than mere summary of Cartesian and scholastic doctrine. They are of the greatest importance for the study of Spinoza’s development. But they also hold much that is of interest to the student of Descartes. No less a scholar than Gilson has commended Spinoza as “an incomparable commentator” (Gilson 2, 68ff.) To say that Spinoza is always faithful to Descartes’ thought would be to claim too much, even if we considered only those passages where Spinoza intends merely to expound Descartes’ view.3 But even the errors of a Spinoza are interesting.

Finally, a word about Balling’s Dutch translation of this work. This appeared in 1664, the year after the first Latin edition. It is more than a translation, though something rather less than the second edition Meyer hoped for (cf. his Preface I/131). A number of new passages have been added, which were not consistently taken into account by any of Spinoza’s editors before Gebhardt. There seems to be no reasonable ground for doubting that these additions were made by Spinoza.

“EP” designates the reading of the first edition, “B” a reading taken from Balling’s translation.

PARTS I AND II OF DESCARTES’ PRINCIPLES OF PHILOSOPHY

Demonstrated in the geometric manner,

By Benedictus de Spinoza, of Amsterdam.

To which are added his

Metaphysical Thoughts

In which are briefly explained the more difficult problems which arise both in the general and in the special part of Metaphysics.

Amsterdam,
Johannes Riewerts,
1663

To the Honest Reader Lodewijk Meyer Presents His Greetings

[I/127] Everyone who wishes to be wiser than is common among men agrees that the best and surest Method of seeking and teaching the truth in the Sciences is that of the Mathematicians, who demonstrate their Conclusions from Definitions, Postulates, and Axioms. Indeed, this [10] opinion is rightly held. For since a certain and firm knowledge of anything unknown can only be derived from things known certainly beforehand, these things must be laid down at the start, as a stable foundation on which to build the whole edifice of human knowledge; otherwise it will soon collapse of its own accord, or be destroyed by the slightest blow.

No one who has even the most cursory acquaintance with the noble [15] discipline of Mathematics will be able to doubt that the things which are there called Definitions, Postulates, and Axioms, are of that kind. For Definitions are nothing but the clearest explanations of the words and terms by which the things to be discussed are designated; and Postulates and Axioms, or common Notions of the mind, are Propositions [20] so clear and evident that no one can deny his assent to them, provided only that he has rightly understood the terms themselves.

But in spite of this you will find hardly any sciences, other than Mathematics, treated by this Method. Instead the whole matter is arranged and executed by another, almost totally different, Method, [25] in which Definitions and Divisions are constantly linked with one another, [I/128] and problems and explanations are mixed in here and there. For almost everyone has been convinced, and many who have applied themselves to founding and writing about the sciences still are convinced, that the Mathematical Method is peculiar to the Mathematical disciplines, and does not apply to any of the rest.

[5] The result is that none of the things they produce are demonstrated by conclusive reasonings, but that they try to construct only probable arguments, foisting on the public a huge heap of huge books, in which you will find nothing that is firm and certain. All of their works are full of strife and disagreement, and whatever is corroborated by some [10] slight, insufficient reasoning is soon rebutted by another, and destroyed and torn apart by the same weapons. So the mind, which has longed for an unshakable truth, and thought to find a quiet harbor, where, after a safe and happy journey, it could at last reach the desired haven of knowledge, finds itself tossed about on a violent sea of opinions, surrounded everywhere by storms of dispute, hurled up and [15] dragged down again endlessly by waves of uncertainty, without any hope of ever emerging from them.

Nevertheless, there have been some who have thought differently, and, taking pity on the wretched plight of Philosophy, have departed from the common way of treating the sciences, and entered on an [20] arduous new path, one beset indeed with many difficulties, that they might leave to posterity the other parts of Philosophy, beyond Mathematics, demonstrated by the mathematical Method and with mathematical certainty. Some of these have put into mathematical order and communicated to the world of letters the Philosophy already received and customarily taught in the school; others have done this with a new philosophy, discovered through their own struggle.

And though many undertook that task for a long time without success, [25] at last there appeared that brightest star of our age, René Descartes. By this new Method he first brought out of darkness and into the light, whatever in Mathematics had been inaccessible to the ancients, and whatever could be desired in addition to that by his own Contemporaries. Then he uncovered firm foundations for Philosophy, foundations on which a great many truths can be built, with Mathematical [30] order and certainty, as he himself really demonstrated, and as manifests itself more clearly than the Noon light to anyone who diligently studies those writings of his, which can never sufficiently be praised.

Although the Philosophical writings of this most Noble and Incomparable Man contain a Mathematical manner and order of demonstration, [I/129] nevertheless they are not written in the style commonly used in Euclid’s Elements and in the works of other Geometricians, the style in which the Definitions, Postulates, and Axioms are set out first, followed by the Propositions and their Demonstrations. Instead they are written in a very different manner, which he calls the true and [5] best way of teaching, the Analytic. For at the end of his Reply to the Second Objections, he recognizes two ways of demonstrating things conclusively, by Analysis, “which shows the true way by which the thing was discovered, methodically, and as it were a priori,”1 and by Synthesis, “which uses a long series of definitions, postulates, axioms, [10] theorems, and problems, so that if a reader denies one of the consequences, the presentation shows him that it is contained immediately in the antecedents, and so forces his assent from him, no matter how stubborn and contrary he may be.”

But though a certainty which is placed beyond any risk of doubt is found in each way of demonstrating, they are not equally useful and [15] convenient for everyone. For since most men are completely unskilled in the Mathematical sciences, and quite ignorant, both of the Synthetic Method, in which they have been written, and of the Analytic, by which they have been discovered, they can neither follow for themselves, nor present to others, the things which are treated, and demonstrated conclusively, in these books. That is why many who have been led, either by a blind impulse, or by the authority of someone [20] else, to enlist as followers of Descartes, have only impressed his opinions and doctrines on their memory; when the subject comes up, they know only how to chatter and babble, but not how to demonstrate anything, as was, and still is, the custom among those who are attached to Aristotle’s philosophy.

To bring these people some assistance, I have often wished that someone who was skilled both in the Analytic and the Synthetic order, [25] and possessed a thorough knowledge of Descartes’ writings and Philosophy, would be willing to take on this work, to render in the Synthetic order what Descartes wrote in the Analytic, and to demonstrate it in the manner familiar to the geometricians. Indeed, I myself, though quite unequal to so great a task, and fully conscious of my weakness, frequently thought of doing this, and even began it. [30] But other occupations distracted me so often that I was prevented from completing it.

Therefore I was very pleased to learn from our Author that he had dictated, to a certain pupil of his, whom he was teaching the Cartesian [I/130] Philosophy, the whole Second Part of the Principles, and part of the Third, demonstrated in that Geometric manner, along with some of the principal and more difficult questions which are disputed in Metaphysics, and had not yet been resolved by Descartes,2 and that in response to the entreaties and demands of his friends, he had agreed [5] that, once he corrected and added to them, these writings might be published. So I too commended this project to him, and at the same time gladly offered my help in publishing, if he should require it.

Moreover, I advised him—indeed entreated him—to render also the first part of the Principles in a like order, and set it before what he had already written, so that by having been arranged in this manner from the beginning, the matter could be better understood and more pleasing. [10] When he saw the soundness of this argument, he did not wish to deny both the requests of a friend and the utility of the reader. And he entrusted to my care the whole business of printing and publishing, since he lives in the country, far from the city, and so could not be present.3

This, then, honest Reader, is what we give you in this little book: [15] the first and second parts of Descartes’ Principles of Philosophy, together with a fragment of the third, to which we have attached, as an Appendix, our Author’s Metaphysical Thoughts. But when we say, and when the title of the book promises, the first part of the Principles, we do not mean that everything Descartes says there is demonstrated here [20] in Geometric order, but only that the main matters which concern Metaphysics, and were treated by Descartes in his Meditations, have been taken from there (leaving aside whatever is a matter of Logic, or is recounted only historically).4

To do this more easily, our Author has carried over, word for word, [25] almost all the things which Descartes put in Geometrical order at the end of his Reply to the Second Objections—beginning with all of Descartes’ Definitions and inserting Descartes’ Propositions among his own, but not annexing the Axioms to the Definitions without interruption. He has placed the Axioms taken from Descartes after the fourth Proposition and altered their order, so they could be demonstrated more [30] easily. He has also omitted certain things which he did not require.

Our Author realizes that these Axioms could be demonstrated as Theorems (as Descartes himself says in the 7th postulate), and that they would be more elegantly treated as Propositions. And though we [I/131] asked him to do this, more important business in which he was involved allowed him only two weeks in which to complete this work. So he was unable to satisfy his desire and ours. Annexing at least a brief explanation, which can take the place of a proof, he has put off [5] a fuller explanation, complete in every respect, till another time. Perhaps, after this printing is exhausted, a new one will be prepared. If so, we shall also try to get him to enrich it by completing the Third Part, On the visible World (we have added here only a fragment of that Part, since our Author ended the instruction of his pupil at that point, and we did not wish to deprive the reader of it, however little [10] it was). For this to be done properly, it will be necessary to introduce certain Propositions concerning the nature and properties of Fluids in the Second Part. I shall do my best to see that our Author accomplishes this at that time.

Our Author quite frequently departs from Descartes, not only in [15] the arrangement and explanation of the Axioms, but also in the demonstration of the Propositions themselves, and the rest of the Conclusions; he often uses a Proof very different from Descartes’. Let no one take this to mean that he wished to correct that most distinguished Man in these matters; it was done only so as to better retain the order he had already taken up, and not to increase unduly the number of [20] Axioms. For the same reason he has also been forced to demonstrate quite a number of things which Descartes asserted without any demonstration, and to add others which he completely omitted.

Nevertheless, I should like it to be particularly noted that in all these writings—not only in the first and second parts of the Principles, and in the fragment of the third part, but also in his Metaphysical [25] Thoughts—our Author has only set out the opinions of Descartes and their demonstrations, insofar as these are found in his writings, or are such as ought to be deduced validly from the foundations he laid. For since he had promised to teach his pupil Descartes’ philosophy, he considered himself obliged not to depart a hair’s breadth from Descartes’ opinion,5 nor to dictate to him anything that either would not [30] correspond to his doctrines or would be contrary to them. So let no one think that he is teaching here either his own opinions, or only those which he approves of. Though he judges that some of the doctrines are true, and admits that he has added some of his own, nevertheless there are many that he rejects as false, and concerning which he holds a quite different opinion.

[I/132] An example of this—to mention only one of many—is what is said concerning the will in the Principles IP15S and in the Appendix, II, 12, although it seems to be proved with sufficient diligence and preparation. For he does not think that the will is distinct from the Intellect, [5] much less endowed with such freedom. Indeed in asserting these things—as is evident from the Discourse on Method, Part IV, the Second Meditation, and other places—Descartes only assumes, but does not prove that the human mind is a substance thinking absolutely. Though our Author admits, of course, that there is a thinking substance in nature, he nevertheless denies that it constitutes the essence of the [10] human Mind; instead he believes that just as Extension is determined by no limits, so also Thought is determined by no limits. Therefore, just as the human Body is not extension absolutely, but only an extension determined in a certain way according to the laws of extended nature by motion and rest, so also the human Mind, or Soul, is not [15] thought absolutely, but only a thought determined in a certain way according to the laws of thinking nature by ideas, a thought which, one infers, must exist when the human body begins to exist. From this definition, he thinks, it is not difficult to demonstrate that the Will is not distinct from the intellect, much less endowed with that liberty which Descartes ascribes to it; that that faculty of affirming [20] and denying is a mere fiction; that affirming and denying are nothing but ideas; and that the rest of the faculties, like Intellect, Desire, etc., must be numbered among the fictions, or at least among those notions which men have formed because they conceive things abstractly, like humanity, stone-hood, and other things of that kind.

[25] Again we must not fail to note that what is found in some places—viz. that this or that surpasses the human understanding—must be taken in the same sense, i.e., as said only on behalf of Descartes. For it must not be thought that our Author offers this as his own opinion. He judges that all those things, and even many others more sublime and [30] subtle, can not only be conceived clearly and distinctly, but also explained very satisfactorily—provided only that the human Intellect is guided in the search for truth and knowledge of things along a different path from that which Descartes opened up and made smooth. The foundations of the sciences brought to light by Descartes, and the [I/133] things he built on them, do not suffice to disentangle and solve all the very difficult problems that occur in Metaphysics. Different foundations are required, if we wish our intellect to rise to that pinnacle of knowledge.

[5] Finally—to put an end to prefacing—we wish our Readers to know that all the things treated here are published with no purpose except that of searching out and propagating the truth, and rousing men to strive for a true and genuine Philosophy; so in order that men may be able to harvest that rich fruit which we sincerely desire each of them to have, we warn them, before they set themselves to read this book, [10] to insert in their place certain things which have been omitted, and to correct accurately the Typographical errors which have crept in. For some of them could be an obstacle to a correct perception of the Author’s intention, and the force of the Demonstration, as anyone who inspects them will easily see.

[I/141] The Principles of Philosophy Demonstrated In the Geometric Manner
[5] Part I

PROLEGOMENON

Before we come to the Propositions themselves and their Demonstrations, it seems desirable to explain concisely why Descartes doubted [10] everything, how he brought to light solid foundations for the sciences, and finally, by what means he freed himself from all doubts. We would have reduced even all these things to Mathematical order, if we had not judged that the prolixity required by such a presentation would [15] prevent them from being understood as they ought to be. For they should all be seen in a single act of contemplation, as in a picture.

Descartes, then, in order to proceed as cautiously as possible in the investigation of things, attempted

(1) to lay aside all prejudices,

[20] (2) to discover the foundations on which all things ought to be built,

(3) to uncover the cause of error,

(4) to understand all things clearly and distinctly.

That he might be able to attain the first, second and third of these, he [25] sought to call all things into doubt, not as a Skeptic would, who has no other end than doubting, but to free his mind from all prejudices, so that in the end he might discover firm and unshakable foundations of the sciences. In this way, if there were any such foundations, they [30] could not escape him. For the true principles of the sciences must be [I/142] so clear and certain that they need no proof, that they are beyond all risk of doubt, and that nothing can be demonstrated without them. These he found, after a long period of doubting. And after he had discovered these principles, it was not difficult for him to distinguish [5] the true from the false, to uncover the cause of error, and so to put himself on guard against assuming something false and doubtful as true and certain.1

To obtain the fourth and last, i.e., that he might understand all things clearly and distinctly, his chief rule was to enumerate and examine [10] separately all the simple ideas of which all the rest of his ideas were compounded. For when he could perceive the simple ideas clearly and distinctly, he would undoubtedly understand, with the same clarity and distinctness, all the rest, which have been constructed from those simple ideas.

[15] With this as preface, we shall explain briefly how he called all things into doubt, discovered the true principles of the Sciences, and extricated himself from the difficulties of his doubts.

Doubt concerning all things

First, then, he considered all those things which he had received from the senses, viz. the heavens, the earth, and the like, and even his [20] own body. All these he had till then thought to exist in nature. And he came to doubt their certainty because he had realized that the senses sometimes deceived him, because in dreams he had often persuaded himself of the existence outside himself of many things, concerning which he afterwards discovered himself to have been deluded, and [25] finally, because he had heard others claim, even while awake, that they felt pain in limbs which they had long lacked.2 So it was not without reason that he was able to doubt the existence of his own body.

From all this he was able to conclude truly that the senses are not that most firm foundation on which every science should be built (for [30] they can be called into doubt), but that certainty depends on other principles, of which we are more certain.

To investigate such principles then, he considered second all universals, such as corporeal nature in general, and its extension, figure, [I/143] quantity, and also all Mathematical truths. And though these seemed more certain to him than all those he had derived from the senses, nevertheless he discovered a reason for doubting them: for others had erred even about these matters, and most important, deeply rooted in [5] his mind was an old opinion, according to which there is a God who can do all things and by whom he was created such as he was. Perhaps this God had made him so that he would be deceived even about those things that seemed clearest to him. And this is the way he called all things in doubt.

The discovery of the foundation of the whole science

To discover the true principles of the sciences, he asked next whether [10] he had called into doubt everything which could fall under his thought. His purpose was to examine whether, perhaps, there was not something remaining which he had not yet doubted. And if he did, by doubting in this way, discover something which could be called into doubt by none of the preceding reasons, nor by any other, he rightly [15] judged that he should set it up as the foundation on which he might build all his knowledge.

And though it seemed that he had already doubted everything—for he had doubted both the things he had derived from the senses and those he had perceived by the intellect alone—nevertheless, there was [20] something remaining which should be examined, viz. he himself who was doubting in this way. Not himself insofar as he consisted of a head, hands, and the other members of the body, since he had doubted these things, but only himself insofar as he was doubting, thinking, etc.

And when he considered it accurately, he discovered that he could not doubt it for any of the previously mentioned reasons. For whether [25] he thinks waking or sleeping, he still thinks and is. And though others, and even he himself had erred concerning other things, since they were erring, they were. Nor could he feign any author of his nature so cunning3 as to deceive him about this. For it will have to be conceded that he exists, so long as it is supposed that he is deceived. [30] Finally, whatever other reason for doubting might be thought up, none could be mentioned that did not at the same time make him most certain of his existence. Indeed, the more reasons for doubting are brought up, the more arguments are brought up that convince him of [I/144] his existence. So in whatever direction he turns in order to doubt, he is forced to break out with these words: I doubt, I think, therefore I am.

Hence, because he had laid bare this truth, he had at the same time also discovered the foundation of all the sciences, and also the measure [5] and rule of all other truths: Whatever is perceived as clearly and distinctly as that is true.4

That there can be no other foundation of the sciences than this, is more than sufficiently evident from the preceding. For we can call all the rest in doubt with no difficulty, but we can not doubt this in any [10] way.

But what we must note here, above all else concerning this foundation, is that this formula, I doubt, I think, therefore I am, is not a syllogism in which the major premise is omitted. For if it were a syllogism, the premises would have to be clearer and better known [15] than the conclusion itself, therefore I am. And so, I am would not be the first foundation of all knowledge. Moreover, it would not be a certain conclusion. For its truth would depend on universal premises which the Author had previously put in doubt. So I think, therefore I am is a single proposition which is equivalent to this, I am thinking.5

[20] Next, to avoid confusion in what follows, we need to know what we are (for this is a matter that ought to be perceived clearly and distinctly). Once we do understand it clearly and distinctly, we shall not confuse our essence with others. To deduce it from the above, our Author proceeded as follows.

[25] He recalled all the thoughts which he had formerly had of himself, e.g., that his soul was something tenuous, like wind, or fire, or air, infused throughout the grosser parts of his body, that the body was better known to him than the soul, and that he perceived it more [30] clearly and distinctly. And he observed that all these thoughts are clearly incompatible with those which up to this point he had understood. For he was able to doubt his own body, but not his own essence, insofar as he was thinking. Moreover, he perceived these thoughts neither clearly nor distinctly, and consequently, according to the rule of his method, he was obliged to reject them as false.

[I/145] Since he could not understand such things to pertain to himself, insofar as he was known to himself up to this point, he proceeded to inquire further what did properly pertain to his essence, which he could not put in doubt, and on account of which he was forced to infer his existence. But these were such things as: that he wished to take [5] care lest he be deceived; that he desired to know many things; that he doubted all things which he could not understand; that so far he affirmed only one thing; that he denied all the rest and rejected them as false; that he imagined many things, even though unwilling to; and finally that he perceived many things as if coming from the senses. Since he could infer his existence from [10] each of these things equally clearly, and could count none of them among those which he had called in doubt, and finally, since they can all be conceived under the same attribute, it followed that all these things were true and pertained to his nature. So when he said, I think, [15] all these modes of thinking were understood, viz. doubting, understanding, affirming, denying, willing, not willing, imagining, and sensing.6

But here the chief things to be noted—because they will be very useful later, when we deal with the distinction between mind and body—are (i) that these modes of thinking are understood clearly and [20] distinctly without the rest, concerning which there is still doubt, and (ii) that the clear and distinct concept we have of them is made obscure and confused, if we wish to ascribe to them any things concerning which we still doubt.

Liberation from all doubts

Finally, in order to become certain of the things he had called in [25] doubt and to remove all doubt, Descartes proceeded to inquire into the nature of the most perfect Being, and whether such a Being existed. For when he discovers that there is a most perfect being, by whose power all things are produced and conserved, and with whose nature being a deceiver is incompatible, then that reason for doubting which he had because he was ignorant of his cause will be removed. [30] He will know that a God who is supremely good and veracious did not give him the faculty of distinguishing the true from the false so that he might be deceived. Hence neither Mathematical truths nor any of those that seem most evident to him can be at all suspected.

Next, to remove the remaining causes of doubt, he went on to ask [I/146] how it happens that we sometimes err. When he discovered that this occurs because we use our free will to assent even to things we have perceived only confusedly, he was able to conclude immediately that he could guard against error in the future, provided he gave his assent [5] only to things perceived clearly and distinctly. Each of us can easily accomplish this by himself, since each has the power of restraining the will, and so of bringing it about that it is contained within the limits of the intellect.

But because we have absorbed at an early age many prejudices from [10] which we are not easily freed, he went on next to enumerate and examine separately all the simple notions and ideas of which all our thoughts are composed, so that we might be freed from our prejudices, and accept nothing but what we perceive clearly and distinctly. For if he could take note of what was clear and what obscure in each, [15] he would easily be able to distinguish the clear from the obscure and to form clear and distinct thoughts. In this way he would discover easily the real distinction between the soul and the body, what was clear and what obscure in the things we have derived from the senses, and finally, how a dream differs from waking states. Once this was [20] done, he could no longer doubt his waking states nor be deceived by the senses. So he freed himself from all the doubts recounted above.

But before we finish, it seems we must satisfy those who make the following objection. Since God’s existence does not become known to [25] us through itself, we seem unable to be ever certain of anything; nor will we ever be able to come to know God’s existence. For we have said that everything is uncertain so long as we are ignorant of our origin, and from uncertain premises, nothing certain can be inferred.

To remove this difficulty, Descartes makes the following reply.7 [30] From the fact that we do not yet know whether the author of our origin has perhaps created us so that we are deceived even in those things that appear most evident to us, we cannot in any way doubt the things that we understand clearly and distinctly either through themselves or through reasoning (so long, at any rate, as we attend to [II/147] that reasoning). We can doubt only those things that we have previously demonstrated to be true, and whose memory can recur when we no longer attend to the reasons from which we deduced them and, indeed, have forgotten the reasons. So although God’s existence cannot [5] come to be known through itself, but only through something else, we will be able to attain a certain knowledge of his existence so long as we attend very accurately to all the premises from which we have inferred it. See Principles I, 13; Reply to Second Objections, 3, and Meditation 5, at the end.

[10] But since this answer does not satisfy some people, I shall give another.8 When we previously discussed the certainty and evidence of our existence, we saw that we inferred it from the fact that, wherever we turned our attention—whether we were considering our own nature, [15] or feigning some cunning deceiver as the author of our nature, or summoning up, outside us, any other reason for doubting whatever—we came upon no reason for doubting that did not by itself convince us of our existence.

So far we have not observed this to happen regarding any other [20] matter. For though, when we attend to the nature of a Triangle, we are compelled to infer that its three angles are equal to two right angles, nevertheless we cannot infer the same thing from [the supposition] that perhaps we are deceived by the author of our nature. But from [this supposition] we did most certainly infer our existence. So [25] here we are not compelled, wherever we direct our attention, to infer that the three angles of a Triangle are equal to two right angles. On the contrary, we discover a ground for doubting, viz. because we have no idea of God which so affects us that it is impossible for us to think [30] that God is a deceiver. For to someone who does not have a true idea of God (which we now suppose ourselves not to have) it is just as easy to think that his author is a deceiver as to think that he is not a deceiver. Similarly for one who has no idea9 of a Triangle, it is just as easy to think that its three angles are equal to two right angles, as to think that they are not.

[I/148] So we concede that we can not be absolutely certain of anything, except our own existence, even though we attend properly to its demonstration, so long as we have no clear and distinct concept of God [5] that makes us affirm that he is supremely veracious, just as the idea we have of a Triangle compels us to infer that its three angles are equal to two right angles. But we deny that we cannot, therefore, arrive at knowledge of anything.

For as is evident from everything we have said just now, the crux [10] of the whole matter is that we can form a concept of God which so disposes us that it is not as easy for us to think that he is a deceiver as to think that he is not, but which now compels us to affirm that he is supremely veracious. When we have formed such an idea, that reason for doubting Mathematical truths will be removed. Wherever we [15] then direct our attention in order to doubt some one of them, we shall come upon nothing from which we must not instead infer that it is most certain—as happened concerning our existence.

E.g., if, after we have discovered the idea of God, we attend to the nature of a Triangle, the idea of this will compel us to affirm that its [20] three angles are equal to two right angles; but if we attend to the idea of God, this too will compel us to affirm that he is supremely veracious, and the author and continual conserver of our nature, and therefore that he does not deceive us concerning that truth. Nor will it be less impossible for us to think that he is a deceiver, when we attend [25] to the idea of God (which we now suppose ourselves to have discovered), than it is for us to think that the three angles of a Triangle do not equal two right angles, when we attend to the idea of a Triangle. And just as we can form such an idea of a Triangle, even though we do not know whether the author of our nature deceives us, so also we [30] can make the idea of God clear to ourselves and put it before our eyes, even though we still doubt whether the author of our nature deceives us in all things. And provided we have it, however we have acquired it, it will suffice to remove all doubt, as has just now been shown.

Therefore, from these premises we reply as follows to the difficulty [I/149] raised. We can be certain of nothing—not, indeed, so long as we are ignorant of God’s existence (for I have not spoken of this)—but as long as we do not have a clear and distinct idea of him.

So if anyone wishes to argue against me, his objection will have to [5] be this: we can be certain of nothing before we have a clear and distinct idea of God; but we cannot have a clear and distinct idea of God so long as we do not know whether the author of our nature deceives us; therefore, we can be certain of nothing so long as we do not know whether the author of our nature deceives us, etc.

[10] To this I reply by conceding the major and denying the minor. For we have a clear and distinct idea of a Triangle, although we do not know whether the author of our nature deceives us; and provided we have such an idea (as I have just shown abundantly), we will be able [15] to doubt neither his existence, nor any Mathematical truth.

With this as preface, let us now come to the matter itself.

DEFINITIONS10

D1: Under the word thought I include everything which is in us and of which we are immediately conscious.

[20] So all operations of the will, the intellect, the imagination and the senses are thoughts. But I have added immediately to exclude those things that follow from thoughts, e.g., voluntary motion does have thought as its principle, but it is still not itself a thought.

D2: By the term idea I understand that form of each thought through [25] the immediate perception of which I am conscious of the thought itself.

So if I understand what I say, I cannot express anything in words, without its being certain from this that there is in me an idea of what is signified by those words.11 And so I do not call only images depicted in the fantasy ideas. [30] Indeed I do not here call them ideas at all, insofar as they are depicted in the corporeal fantasy, i.e., in some part of the brain, but only insofar as they give form to the mind itself which is directed toward that part of the brain.

[I/150] D3: By the objective reality of an idea I understand the being of the thing represented by the idea, insofar as it is in the idea.

In the same way, one can speak of objective perfection, or objective artifice, etc. For whatever we perceive as in the objects of the ideas is in the ideas [5] themselves objectively.

D4: The same things are said to be formally in the objects of the ideas when they are in the objects as we perceive them, and eminently when they are in the objects, not indeed as we perceive them, but to such an extent as to be able to take the place of such things.

[10] Note that when I say the cause contains the perfections of its effect eminently, I mean that the cause contains the perfections of the effect more excellently than the effect itself does. See also A8.

D5: Everything in which there is immediately, as in a subject, or through which there exists, something we perceive, i.e., some property, [15] or quality, or attribute, of which there is a real idea in us, is called Substance.12

For of substance itself, taken precisely, we have no idea, other than that it is a thing in which exists formally or eminently that something which we [20] perceive, or, which is objectively in one of our ideas.13

D6: A substance in which thought is immediately is called a Mind.

I speak here of mind [mens] rather than soul [anima], because the word soul is equivocal and is often taken for a corporeal thing.14

D7: A substance which is the immediate subject of extension15 and of [30] accidents which presuppose extension, like figure, position, local motion, etc., is called a body.

But whether the substance called mind is one and the same as that called body, or whether they are two different substances, will need to be asked later.

D8: The substance which we understand to be through itself16 supremely perfect, and in which we conceive nothing which involves any defect or limitation of perfection, is called God.

D9: When we say that something is contained in the nature or concept [I/151] of something, that is the same as saying that it is true of that thing, i.e., can be truly affirmed of it.17

D10: Two substances are said to be really distinct when each of them can exist without the other.

[5] We have omitted Descartes’ postulates here, because we infer nothing from them in what follows. Still we earnestly ask the reader to read through them, to consider them, and to meditate on them carefully.

AXIOMS18

A1: We do not arrive at knowledge and certainty of an unknown thing [10] except by the knowledge and certainty of another thing which is prior19 to it in certainty and knowledge.

A2: There are reasons which make us doubt the existence of our body.

[15] This has been shown in the Prolegomenon, and so it is made an axiom here.

A3: If we have anything beyond a mind and a body, it is less known to us than the mind and the body.

It should be noted that these axioms make affirmations concerning no things outside us, but only concerning those things which we find in us, insofar as we are thinking things.20

[20] PROPOSITIONS

P1: We cannot be absolutely certain of anything, so long as we do not know that we exist.

Dem.: This proposition is evident through itself. For whoever absolutely [25] does not know that he is, equally does not know that he is affirming or denying, i.e., that he certainly affirms or denies.21

But it should be noted here that although we affirm and deny many things with great certainty without attending to the fact that we exist, nevertheless, unless this is presupposed as indubitable it is possible for everything to be called [30] in doubt.

[I/152] P2: I am must be known through itself.

Dem.: If you deny this, then it will not become known except through [5] something else, the knowledge and certainty of which (by A1) will be prior in us to this proposition, I am. But this is absurd (by P1). Therefore, it must be known through itself, q.e.d.

P3: I, insofar as I am a thing consisting of a body, am, is not the first thing [10] known, nor is it known through itself.

Dem.: There are certain things which make us doubt the existence of our body (by A2); therefore (by A1), we shall not arrive at certainty of [the existence of our body] except through the knowledge and certainty [15] of another thing, which is prior to it in knowledge and certainty. Therefore, the proposition that I, insofar as I am a thing consisting of a body, am, is not the first thing known, nor is it known through itself, q.e.d.

[20] P4: I am cannot be the first thing known except insofar as we think.

Dem.: The proposition I am a corporeal thing or one consisting of a body is not the first thing known (P3). Nor am I certain of my existence [I/153] insofar as I consist of anything else besides a mind and a body. For if we consist of anything else different from the mind and the body, this is less known to us than the body (A3). So I am can not be the first thing known except insofar as we think, q.e.d.

[5] Cor.: Hence it is evident that the mind, or thinking thing, is better known than the body. For a fuller explanation, see Principles I, 11 and 12.

[10] Schol.: Everyone perceives most certainly that he affirms, denies, doubts, understands, imagines, etc., or that he exists doubting, understanding, affirming, etc., or in a word, thinking. Nor can this be [15] called in doubt. So the proposition I think, or I am Thinking is the unique (P1) and most certain foundation of the whole of Philosophy.

Now to be completely certain of matters in the sciences nothing more can be sought or desired than to deduce all things from the firmest principles and to render them as clear and distinct as the principles [20] from which they are deduced. So clearly whatever is equally evident to us, whatever we perceive as clearly and distinctly as the principle we have already discovered, and whatever so agrees with this principle, and so depends on it that if we should wish to doubt it we would have to doubt this principle as well, must be held most true.22

[25] But to proceed as cautiously as possible in examining these matters, I shall admit in the beginning, as equally evident and as perceived by us with equal clarity and distinctness, only those things that each of us observes in himself, insofar as he is thinking. E.g., that he wills [30] this and that, that he has ideas of a certain sort, that one idea contains in itself more reality and perfection than another, that the idea which contains objectively the being and perfection of substance is far more [I/154] perfect than the one which contains only the objective perfection of some accident, and finally that the idea of a supremely perfect being is the most perfect of all. These, I say, we perceive not only with equal evidence and clarity, but even, perhaps, more distinctly. For [5] they affirm not only that we think, but also how we think.

Next we shall also say that those [propositions] agree with this principle which cannot be called into doubt unless at the same time this unshakable foundation of ours should be put in doubt. E.g., if someone should wish to doubt whether something comes from nothing, he [10] will at the same time be able to doubt whether we exist when we think. For if I can affirm something of nothing—viz. that it can be the cause of something—I shall be able at the same time, with the same right, to affirm thought of nothing, and to say that I am nothing when I think. But since I cannot do that, it will also be impossible for me [15] to think that something may come from nothing.

Having considered these matters, I decided to set out here, in order, the things which at present seem necessary to enable us to go further, and to add to the number of Axioms. They are put forward as axioms by Descartes, at the end of the Replies to the Second Objections, and [20] I do not wish to be more accurate than he is.23 Nevertheless, so as not to depart from the order already begun, I shall try to make them somewhat clearer and to show how one depends on the other and how they all depend on this principle—I am thinking—or agree with it in evidence and reason.

[25] AXIOMS TAKEN FROM DESCARTES

A4: There are different degrees of reality, or being: for a substance has more reality than an accident or mode, and the infinite substance more than a finite; accordingly there is more objective reality in the [30] idea of a substance than in that of an accident, and in the idea of the infinite substance than in that of a finite [substance].

This axiom comes to be known just from the contemplation of our ideas, of [I/155] whose existence we are certain, because they are modes of thinking. For we know how much reality or perfection the idea of substance affirms of a substance, and how much the idea of mode affirms of a mode.24 Hence we necessarily find that the idea of substance contains more objective reality than that [5] of some accident. See P4S.

A5: If a thinking thing knows any perfections which it lacks, it will immediately give them to itself, if they are in its power.

Everyone observes this in himself, insofar as he is a thinking thing. Consequently [10] (by P4S) we are most certain of it. And for the same reason we are no less certain of the following, viz.,

A6: Existence—either possible or necessary—is contained in the idea, or concept, of every thing (see Descartes, A10). Necessary existence, in the concept of God, or of a supremely perfect being (for otherwise he would be [15] conceived as imperfect, contrary to what is supposed to be conceived); but contingent, or possible, in the concept of a limited thing.

A7: No actually existing thing and no actually existing perfection of a thing can have nothing, or a thing not existing, as the cause of its existence.

[20] In P4S I have demonstrated that this axiom is as evident to us as I am thinking.

A8: Whatever reality, or perfection, there is in any thing, exists formally or eminently in its first and adequate cause.

[25] I understand that the reality is in the cause eminently when the cause contains the whole reality of the effect more perfectly than the effect itself, but formally when it contains it as perfectly.

This axiom depends on the preceding one. For if it were supposed that there was either nothing in the cause, or less in the cause than in the effect, then the [30] nothing in the cause would be the cause of the effect. But this (by A7) is absurd. So not anything can be cause of an effect, but only that in which there is every perfection which is in the effect either eminently or at least formally.

A9: The objective reality of our ideas requires a cause in which the [I/156] same reality itself is contained, not only objectively, but formally or eminently.

Though many people misapply this axiom, it is acknowledged by everyone. For whenever anyone has conceived something new, there is no one who does [5] not look for the cause of that concept, or idea. When they can assign one which contains formally or eminently as much reality as that concept contains objectively, they are satisfied. This is explained adequately by the example of the machine which Descartes uses in the Principles (I, 17).

Again, if anyone should ask from what source a man has the ideas of his [10] thought and of his body, no one fails to see that he has them from himself, as containing formally all that the ideas contain objectively. So, if a man were to have some idea which contained more objective reality than he contained formally, we would be driven by the natural light to look for another cause, outside the man himself, which contained all that perfection formally or eminently. [15] Nor has anyone ever assigned any other cause, except this one, which he conceived as clearly and distinctly.

As for the truth of this axiom, it depends on the preceding one. For (by A4) there are different degrees of reality or being in ideas, and therefore by (A8) [20] the more perfect they are, the more perfect the cause they require. But the degrees of reality which we perceive in our ideas are not in the ideas insofar as they are considered as modes of thinking, but rather insofar as one represents a substance and another represents only a mode of substance—or, in a word, insofar as they are considered as images of things.a So clearly, there can be no [25] other first cause of ideas except that which (as we have just shown) everyone understands clearly and distinctly by the natural light: viz., one in which there is contained either formally or eminently the same reality which the ideas have objectively.

That this conclusion may be more clearly understood, I shall explain it with one or two examples. Suppose someone sees two books—one the work of a distinguished [30] philosopher, the other that of some trifler, but both written in the same hand. If he attends to the meaning of the words (that is, does not attend to them insofar as they are like images), but only to the handwriting and to the order of the letters, he will recognize no inequality between them which [I/157] compels him to look for different causes. They will seem to him to have proceeded from the same cause in the same way. But if he attends to the meaning of the words and the discourses,25 he will find a great inequality between them. And so he will conclude that the first cause of the one book was very different from the first cause of the other, and really more perfect than it in proportion to the [5] differences he finds between the meaning of the discourses of each book, or between the words considered as images. I speak of the first cause of the books; there must be a first cause, though I concede—indeed I assume—that one book can be copied from another, as is obvious in itself.

The same [axiom] can also be explained clearly by the example of a portrait—say [10] of some Prince. For if we attend only to its materials, we shall find between it and other portraits no inequality which would force us to look for different causes. On the contrary, nothing will prevent us from being able to think that it has been painted from another picture, and that one again from [15] another, and so on to infinity. For we shall discern [clearly] enough that no other cause is required for drawing it. But if we attend to the image insofar as it is an image we shall immediately be forced to look for a first cause which contains, formally or eminently, what the image contains by representation. I do not see what more could be desired for the confirmation and clarification of this axiom.

[20] A10: No less a cause is required for preserving a thing than for first producing it.

From the fact that we are thinking now, it does not necessarily follow that we shall be thinking afterwards. For the concept which we have of our thought does not involve, or contain, the necessary existence of the thought. I can [25] conceive the thought clearly and distinctly even though I suppose that it does not exist.b

But the nature of every cause must contain or involve in itself the perfection of its effect (by A8). From this it follows clearly that there must be something, either in us or outside us, which we have not yet understood, whose concept, [30] or nature, involves existence and which is the cause of our thought’s having begun to exist, and also of its continuing to exist. For though our thought has begun to exist, its nature and essence does not on that account involve necessary existence any more than before it existed. So it needs the same power to persevere [I/158] in existing as it needed to begin existing. And what we say here about thought, must also be said about anything whose essence does not involve necessary existence.

A11: Nothing exists of which it cannot be asked, what is the cause, or reason, why it exists. See Descartes’ A1.

[5] Since existing is something positive, we cannot say that it has nothing as its cause (by A7). Therefore we must assign some positive cause, or reason, why [a thing] exists—either an external one, i.e., one outside the thing itself, or an internal one, i.e., one comprehended in the nature and definition of the existing thing itself.

[10]

The following four propositions are taken from Descartes.

P5: God’s existence is known from the consideration of his nature alone.

[15] Dem.: To say that something is contained in the nature, or concept, of something is the same as saying that it is true of that thing (by D9). But necessary existence is contained in the concept of God (by A6). So, it is true to say of God that necessary existence is in him, or that he exists.

[20] Schol.: Many excellent things follow from this proposition. Indeed, almost all that knowledge of God’s attributes through which we are led to the love of him, or the highest blessedness, depends on this alone: that existence pertains to the nature of God, or that the concept of God involves necessary existence, as the concept of a triangle involves [25] that its three angles are equal to two right angles, or that his existence, no less than his essence, is an eternal truth. So it would be [I/159] very desirable for the human race at last to embrace these things with us.

I confess, of course, that there are certain prejudices that stand in the way of everyone’s understanding this so easily.c But if anyone [5] moved by a good intention and by the simple love of the truth and of his own true advantage, should wish to examine the matter and to weigh carefully the things considered in the Fifth Meditation and at the end of the Replies to the First Objections, as well as what we say about eternity in our Appendix (II, 1), he will doubtless understand [10] it as clearly as possible, and no one will be able to doubt whether he has an idea of God, which, of course, is the first foundation of human blessedness. For he will see that the idea of God is very different from the ideas of other things as soon as he understands that God differs in every way from other things, with respect both to his essence and to [15] his existence. So there is no need to detain the Reader longer about these matters.

P6: God’s existence is demonstrated a posteriori from the mere fact that there is an idea of him in us.

[20] Dem.: The objective reality of any of our ideas requires a cause in which the very same reality is contained, not only objectively, but formally or eminently (by A9). But we have an idea of God (by D2 and D8), [25] and the objective reality of this idea is not contained either formally or eminently in us (by A4); nor can it be contained in any other thing except God himself (by D8). So this idea of God which is in us requires God as its cause, God, therefore, exists (by A7).

[I/160] Schol.: There are some who deny that they have any idea of God, and who nevertheless (so they say) worship and love him. And though you may put before them a definition of God, and God’s attributes, [5] you will still gain nothing by it, no more than if you labored to teach a man blind from birth the differences between the colors, just as we see them. But unless we should wish to regard them as a new kind of animal, between men and the lower animals, we must not bother too [10] much about their words. How, I ask, can we make the idea of any thing known except by propounding its definition and explaining its attributes? Since we offer this concerning the idea of God, there is no reason for us to be delayed by the words of men who deny that they have an idea of God merely because they can form no image of him in their brain.

[15] Next we should note that when Descartes cites A4 to show that the objective reality of our idea of God is not contained in us, either formally or eminently, he supposes that everyone knows that he is not an infinite substance—i.e., supremely intelligent, powerful, etc. He is [20] entitled to suppose this because he who knows that he thinks, knows also that he has doubts about many things and does not understand everything clearly and distinctly.

Finally, we must note that it also follows clearly from D8 that there can not be more than one God, as we clearly demonstrate in P11 and in our Appendix, II, ii.

[25] P7: The existence of God is also demonstrated from the fact that we ourselves who have an idea of him exist.

Schol.: To demonstrate this proposition Descartes assumes these [I/161] two axioms: (1) What can bring about the greater, or more difficult, can also bring about the lesser; (2) It is greater to create, or (by A10) to preserve, a substance than the attributes, or properties, of a substance. But what he means by this I do not know. What does he call easy, and what difficult? [5] Nothing is said to be easy or difficult absolutely, but only in relation to a cause. So one and the same thing can at the same time be called both easy and difficult in relation to different causes.d

But if he calls difficult those things that can be accomplished [by a cause] with great labor, and easy, those that can be accomplished by [10] the same cause with less labor—as a force which can lift 50 pounds will be able to lift [25] pounds twice as easily—then of course, the axiom will not be absolutely true, nor will he be able to demonstrate from it what he wants to. For when he says [AT VII, 168], if I had the power of preserving myself, I would also have the power of giving myself all the perfections I lack (because they do not require such a great power), [15] I would concede this to him. The powers I expend in preserving myself could bring about many other things far more easily, if I did not require them for preserving myself. But so long as I use them for preserving myself, I deny that I can expend them to bring about other things, even though they are easier, as is clear in our example.

[20] It does not remove the difficulty if it is said that since I am a thinking thing I would necessarily have to know whether I spend all my powers in preserving myself, and also whether this is the cause of my [25] not giving myself the remaining perfections. The dispute now does not concern this, but only how the necessity of this proposition follows from this axiom. Moreover, if I knew it, I would be greater, and perhaps would require greater powers to preserve myself in that greater perfection than those I have.26

And then I do not know whether it is a greater work to create (or preserve) a substance than to create (or preserve) attributes. To speak [30] more clearly and Philosophically, I do not know whether a substance does not require its whole power and essence, by which it perhaps preserves itself, for preserving its attributes.27

But let us leave these things to examine further what our most noble Author means here, i.e., what he understands by easy and difficult. I [I/162] do not think, nor can I in any way persuade myself, that by difficult he understands what is impossible (so that it cannot in any way be conceived how it happens), and by easy, what implies no contradiction (so that it can easily be conceived how it happens). It is true that he [5] seems at first glance to mean this, when he says in the Third Meditation [AT VII, 48]: I must not think that perhaps the things I lack are more difficult to acquire than those now in me. On the contrary, it is evident that it was far more difficult for me—i.e., a thing, or substance, which thinks—to emerge from nothing than, etc. But that would not be consistent with [10] the author’s words and would not be worthy of his genius.

For, to pass over the first consideration, there is nothing in common between the possible and the impossible, or between the intelligible and the unintelligible, just as there is nothing in common between something and nothing; and power does not agree with impossibilities [15] any more than creation and generation do with nonexistent things, so they ought not to be compared in any way. Moreover, I can compare things with one another and know the relation between them only if I have a clear and distinct concept of each of them. Hence I deny that it follows that if someone can do the impossible, he should also be [20] able to do what is possible.

What sort of conclusion is this? If someone can make a square circle, he will also be able to make a circle all of whose radii are equal, or, if someone can bring it about that nothing28 is acted on, and can use it [25] as a material from which to produce something, he will also have the power to make something from some [B: other] thing. As I have said, between these and similar things there is neither agreement, nor proportion, nor comparison, nor anything whatsoever in common. Anyone can see this, if he gives the matter any attention at all. I think [30] Descartes was too intelligent to have meant that.

But when I consider the second axiom of the two just cited, it seems that by greater and more difficult he means more perfect, and by less and easier, more imperfect. But this is also very obscure. There is the [I/163] same difficulty here as before. I deny, as before, that he who can do the greater, should be able at the same time and by the same work (as must be supposed in the Proposition) to do the lesser.

Again, when he says: it is greater to create or preserve a substance than to create or preserve its attributes, he can surely not understand by attributes [5] what is contained formally in substance and is distinguished from substance itself only by reason.29 For then creating a substance is the same as creating its attributes. For the same reason he also cannot understand [by attributes] the properties of a substance which follow necessarily from its essence and definition.

[10] Much less can he understand what he nevertheless seems to mean, viz. the properties and attributes of another substance. So, for example, if I say that I have the power of preserving myself, a finite thinking substance, I cannot on that account say that I also have the power [15] of giving myself the perfections of the infinite substance which differs in its whole essence from my essence. For the power, or essence,e by which I preserve myself in my being differs entirely from the power, or essence, by which the absolutely infinite substance preserves itself, from which its powers and properties are only distinguished by reason. [20] Hence, even though I were to suppose that I preserve myself, if I should wish to conceive that I could give myself the perfections of the absolutely infinite substance, I would be supposing nothing but this—that I can reduce my whole essence to nothing and create afresh an infinite substance. This, of course, would be much greater than [25] only supposing that I can preserve myself, a finite substance.

Since, then, he can understand none of these things by attributes or properties, nothing else remains, except the qualities that the substance [30] itself contains eminently (as, this or that thought in the mind, which I clearly perceive to be lacking in me), but not those another substance contains eminently (as, this or that motion in extension; for such perfections are not perfections for me, a thinking thing, and so are not lacking to me). But then Descartes cannot in any way infer from this axiom the conclusion he wants to demonstrate; i.e., that if I [I/164] preserve myself, I also have the power of giving myself all the perfections that I clearly find to pertain to a supremely perfect being.

This is quite evident from what has just been said. But not to leave the matter undemonstrated, and to avoid all confusion, it seemed best [5] to demonstrate the following lemmas first, and afterwards to construct a demonstration of P7 on that basis.

Lemma 1: The more perfect a thing is by its own nature, the greater and more necessary is the existence it involves; conversely, the more necessary the [10] existence it involves by its own nature, the more perfect it is.

Dem.: Existence is contained in the idea, or concept, of everything (by A6). Let A be a thing that has ten degrees of perfection. I say that [15] its concept involves more existence than it would if it were supposed to contain only five degrees of perfection. For since we can affirm no existence of nothing (see P4S), then the more we take away its perfection [20] in thought, and so the more we conceive it as participating in nothing,30 the more possibility of existence we also deny it. Hence, if we should conceive its degrees of perfection to be diminished infinitely to zero, it will contain no existence, or absolutely impossible existence. On the other hand, if we increase its degree [of perfection] infinitely, [25] we shall conceive it as involving existence in the highest degree, and therefore as involving supremely necessary existence. This was the first thing to be proven.

And the second thing proposed for demonstration follows clearly from the fact that these two things [necessary existence and perfection] cannot be separated in any way (as is sufficiently established by A6, and by this whole first part).

[30] Note 1. Although many things are said to exist necessarily from the mere fact that there is a determinate cause to produce them, we are not speaking about these things here, but only about that necessity and possibility which [I/165] follow solely from the consideration of the nature, or essence, of the thing, without regard to any cause.

Note 2. We are not speaking here about beauty and the other ‘perfections’ which men have wished, in their superstition and ignorance, to call perfections. [5] By perfection I understand only reality, or being. E.g., I perceive that more reality is contained in substance than in modes, or accidents. Hence I understand clearly that it contains a more necessary and perfect existence than accidents do, as is plain enough from A4 and A6.

[10] Cor.: Hence it follows that whatever involves necessary existence is a supremely perfect being, or God.

Lemma 2: The nature of him who has the power of conserving himself involves [15] necessary existence.

Dem.: Whoever has the power to preserve himself also has the power to create himself (by A10), i.e. (as everyone will readily concede), he requires no external cause in order to exist; rather, his own nature [20] alone will be a sufficient cause of his existing, either possibly (see A10) or necessarily. But he does not exist possibly. For then (by what we have demonstrated concerning A10), from the fact that he existed now, it would not follow that he would exist afterwards (which is contrary to the hypothesis). So he exists necessarily, i.e., his nature involves [25] necessary existence, q.e.d.

Demonstration of P7: If I had the power to preserve myself, I would [I/166] be of such a nature that I would involve necessary existence (by L2). So (by L1C) my nature would contain all perfections. But I find in myself, insofar as I am a thinking thing, many imperfections—that I [5] doubt, desire, etc.—of which I am certain (P4S). Therefore, I have no power to preserve myself. I cannot say that the reason I now lack those perfections is that I wish to deny them to myself, for that would clearly be incompatible with L1 and with what I clearly find in myself (by A5).

Next, I cannot now exist without being preserved as long as I exist, [10] either by myself, if in fact I have that power, or by another who has it (by A10 and All). But I exist (by P4S) and nevertheless I do not have the power to preserve myself, as was just now proved. Therefore, I am preserved by another. But not by another who does not have the power to preserve himself (by the same reasoning by which [15] I just demonstrated that I cannot preserve myself). So I am preserved by another who has the power of preserving himself, i.e. (by L2), whose nature involves necessary existence, i.e. (by L1C), who contains all the perfections which I understand to pertain clearly to a supremely [20] perfect being. And therefore a supremely perfect being, i.e. (by D8), God, exists, as was to be demonstrated.

Cor.: God can bring about whatever we clearly perceive, as we perceive it.

[25] Dem.: All these things clearly follow from the preceding Proposition. For it is proved there that God exists from the fact that there must exist someone who has all the perfections of which there is some idea in us. But there is in us the idea of a power so great that the [30] heaven, and the earth, and all the other things which I understand to be possible, can be made, unaided, by him in whom the power exists. [I/167] So all these things have been proved about God together with his existence.

P8: Mind and body are really distinct.

[5] Dem.: Whatever we perceive clearly can be made by God as we perceive it (P7C). But (by P3 and P4) we clearly perceive the mind, i.e. (by D6), a thinking substance, without the body, i.e. (by D7), [10] without any extended substance. Conversely, we perceive the body clearly without mind (as everyone will readily concede). So the mind can exist without the body and the body can exist without the mind—at least by divine power.

Now substances which can exist without one another are really distinct [15] (by D10). But the mind and the body are substances (by D5, 6, and 7), which can each exist without the other (as we have just proven). So the mind and the body are really distinct.

See Descartes’ P4 (at the end of the Replies to the Second Objections) [20] and the Principles I, 22-29. For I do not judge it worthwhile to transcribe here the things said there.31

P9: In the highest degree, God understands.

[25] Dem.: If you deny this, then God will understand either nothing, or not everything, or only certain things.

But to understand only certain things and be ignorant of others supposes a limited and imperfect intellect, which it is absurd to ascribe to God (by D8).

[I/168] But that God should understand nothing would indicate either that he lacks any intellection, as men do when they understand nothing, and so would involve imperfection, which cannot be in God (by D8), or that his understanding something would be incompatible with his perfection.

[5] Since intellection would thus be denied to him altogether, he would not be able to create any intellect (by A8). But since we perceive intellect clearly and distinctly, God can be its cause (P7C). Hence it is not at all true that it is incompatible with God’s perfection for him to understand something.

[10] Consequently, he will, in the highest degree, understand, q.e.d.

Schol.: Although it must be conceded that God is incorporeal, as is demonstrated in P16, still this must not be taken to mean that all the [15] perfections of Extension are to be denied him. Extension is to be rejected only insofar as its nature and properties involve some imperfection. The same thing must also be said about God’s intellection, as everyone who wants to be wiser than the ordinary run of Philosophers [20] confesses. This will be explained fully in our Appendix (II, vii).32

P10: Whatever perfection is found in God, is from God.

Dem.: If you deny this, suppose there is some perfection in God [25] which is not from God. It will be in God, either from itself or from something different from God. If it is from itself, then it will have necessary, or not [merely] possible, existence (by P7L2).33 And so (by P7L1C) it will be something supremely perfect, and therefore (by D8) God. Accordingly, if it should be said that there is something in God [I/169] which is from itself, it is said at the same time to be from God, q.e.d. But if it is from something different from God, then God cannot be conceived as supremely perfect through himself, contrary to D8. Therefore, whatever perfection is found in God is from God, q.e.d.

[5] P11: There is not more than one God.34

Dem.: Suppose you deny this. Conceive, if possible, that there is more than one God, e.g., A and B. Then both A and B must, in the [10] highest degree, understand (by P9), i.e., A understands everything, including both himself and B, and B, in turn, will understand himself and A. But since A and B exist necessarily (by P5), then the cause of the truth and necessity of the idea of B which is in A, is B. Conversely, the cause of the truth and necessity of the idea of A which is [15] in B is A. Consequently, there will be a perfection in A which is not from A, and one in B which is not from B. So (by P10) neither A nor B will be Gods. Therefore, there is not more than one God, q.e.d.

It should be noted here that it follows necessarily from the mere fact that some thing involves necessary existence from itself (as God does) that it is unique. [20] Everyone will be able to see this for himself, provided he meditates attentively. I could also have demonstrated it here, but not in a way perceptible by everyone, as has been done in this proposition.

[25] P12: Whatever exists is preserved by the power of God alone.

Dem.: If you deny this, let it be supposed that something preserves [I/170] itself. Then (by P7L2), its nature involves necessary existence, and so it would be God (by P7L1C). There would thus be more than one God, which is absurd (by P11). So nothing exists which is not preserved by the power of God alone, q.e.d.

[5] Cor. 1: God is the creator of all things.

Dem.: God (by P12) preserves all things, i.e. (by A10), he has created whatever exists, and even now continuously creates it.

[10] Cor. 2: Things have no essence from themselves which might be the cause of God’s knowledge; rather, God is the cause of things even with respect to their essences.

[15] Dem.: Since no perfection is found in God which is not from God (by P10), things will have no essence from themselves which could be the cause of God’s knowledge. On the contrary, since God has not generated everything from something else, but has created all things completely (P12 and P12C1), and since that act of creation admits of [20] no cause except the efficient (for so I define creation), which is God, it follows that things were nothing at all before the creation; and so God was also the cause of their essence, q.e.d.

It should be noted that this corollary is also evident from the fact that God is the cause, or creator, of all things (by C1) and that the [25] cause must contain in itself all the perfections of the effect (by A8), as everyone can easily see.

[I/171] Cor. 3: From this it clearly follows that God does not sense or, strictly speaking, perceive. For his intellect is not determined by anything outside itself. Rather, all things proceed from him.

[5] Cor. 4: God is prior in causality to the essence and to the existence of things, as follows clearly from Corollaries 1 and 2 of this Proposition.

P13: God is supremely veracious, and not at all a deceiver.

[10] Dem.: We can attribute nothing to God (by D8) in which we find any imperfection. Now (as is known through itself) every deception, or will to deceive, proceeds only from malice or fear.f Fear implies a [15] lesser power, and malice a privation of goodness. So no deception, or will to deceive, ought to be ascribed to God, i.e., to a being supremely powerful and supremely good. On the contrary, he must be said to be supremely veracious, and not at all a deceiver, q.e.d. See the Replies to the Second Objections, No. 4.

[25] P14: Whatever we perceive clearly and distinctly is true.

Dem.: The faculty of distinguishing the true from the false, which (as everyone discovers in himself and can be seen from all that we [I/172] have now demonstrated) is in us, has been created, and is continuously preserved by God (by P12 with its corollary), i.e. (by P13), by a being supremely veracious and not at all a deceiver. Nor has he given us (as everyone discovers in himself) any faculty of holding back from, or [5] not assenting to, those things we perceive clearly and distinctly. So if we were deceived concerning them, we would be deceived entirely by God, and he would be a deceiver, which (by P13) is absurd. Therefore, whatever we perceive clearly and distinctly is true, q.e.d.

[10] Schol.: Since the things to which we must necessarily assent, when we perceive them clearly and distinctly, must be true, and since we have the faculty of not assenting to those that are obscure and doubtful, or that are not deduced from most certain principles (as everyone [15] discovers in himself), it clearly follows that we can always prevent ourselves from falling into errors and from ever being deceived, provided that we decide resolutely to affirm nothing we do not perceive clearly and distinctly, or which is not deduced from principles clear and certain through themselves. This will be understood even more [20] clearly from what follows.

P15: Error is not something positive.35

Dem.: If error were something positive, it would have God alone [25] as its cause, by whom it would be continuously created (by P12). But this is absurd (by P13). So, error is not something positive, q.e.d.

[I/173] Schol.: Since error is not something positive in man, it can be nothing but a privation of the proper use of liberty (by P14S). So God should not be called the cause of error, except in the sense in which [5] we say that the absence of the Sun is the cause of darkness, or that God is the cause of blindness, because he has made a child like others, except in respect of vision. For he has given us an intellect that extends only to a few things.

To understand this more clearly, and to understand as well how [10] error depends solely on the misuse of our will and, finally, how we can guard against error, we should recall the modes of thinking that we have. They can all be grouped into two kinds: modes of perceiving (like sensing, imagining, and purely understanding) and modes of willing [15] (like desiring, shunning, affirming, denying, and doubting).

It must be noted about these [modes of thinking]:

(1) that the mind can be deceived neither insofar as it understands things clearly and distinctly and assents to them (by P14), nor insofar as it merely perceives things and does not assent to them. For though [20] I may now perceive a winged horse, it is certain that this perception contains no falsity, so long as I do not assent to its being true that there is a winged horse, nor also so long as I doubt whether there is a winged horse. And since assenting is nothing but determining the will, it follows that error depends solely on the use of the will.

[25] To make this still clearer, note:

(2) that we have the power of assenting not only to those things which we perceive clearly and distinctly, but also to those which we perceive in any other way. For our will is not determined by any limits. Anyone can see this clearly, provided he attends to the fact [30] that if God had wished to make our faculty of understanding infinite, he would not have needed to give us a greater faculty of assenting [I/174] than the one we now have in order for us to be able to assent to everything we understand. The same faculty we now have would suffice to our assenting to infinitely many things. And we know from our experience that we assent to many things that we have not deduced from certain principles.

[5] Again, it is clear from these considerations that we should never fall into error (by P14) if either the intellect extended itself as widely as the faculty of willing, or if the faculty of willing could not extend itself more widely than the intellect, or finally, if we could contain the faculty of willing within the limits of the intellect.

[10] But we have no power to bring about the first two. For it involves a contradiction both that the will should not be infinite and that the created intellect should not be finite. There remains, then, the third possibility to be considered, viz., whether we have the power to contain our faculty of willing within the limits of the intellect. Now since [15] the will is free to determine itself, it follows that we do have the power to contain our faculty of assenting within the limits of the intellect, and so can bring it about that we do not fall into error. Hence it is quite evident that it depends entirely on the use of the freedom of the [20] will that we are ever deceived. That our will is free is demonstrated in Principles I, 39 and in the Fourth Meditation.36 We have also shown it fully in the last chapter of our Appendix.

And though we cannot but assent to a thing when we perceive it clearly and distinctly, that necessary assent does not depend on the weakness of our will, but only on its freedom and perfection. For to [25] assent is truly a perfection in us (as is known sufficiently by itself), and the will is never more perfect or more free than when it completely determines itself. Since this can happen when the mind understands something clearly and distinctly, it will necessarily give that perfection to itself immediately (by A5). So it is far from being the [30] case that we understand ourselves to be less free from the fact that we are not at all indifferent in embracing the truth. On the contrary, we have established it as certain that the more we are indifferent, the less we are free.

All that remains to be explained, therefore, is how error is nothing [I/175] but a privation in relation to man, but is only a negation in relation to God. We shall see this easily if we first observe that because we perceive many things in addition to those we understand clearly37 we are more perfect than we would be if we did not perceive them. This [5] is clearly established by the fact that if we could perceive nothing clearly and distinctly, but only confusedly, we would have nothing more perfect than perceiving things confusedly. Nor could anything else be desired for our nature. Next, assenting to things, even to confused things, is a kind of action, and as such, it is a perfection. This [10] will also be plain to anyone who supposes (as above) that perceiving things clearly and distinctly is contrary to man’s nature. For then it will be evident that it is far better for man to assent even to confused things and to exercise his freedom, than to remain always indifferent, [15] i.e. (as we have just shown), in the lowest degree of freedom. And if we also consider what is needed and advantageous in human life, we shall find it absolutely necessary, as daily experience sufficiently teaches everyone.

Since, then, all the modes of thinking we have are perfect, insofar [20] as they are considered in themselves alone, what constitutes the form of error cannot be in them, considered in themselves. But if we consider the modes of willing, as they differ from one another, we shall discover that some are more perfect than others, insofar as some render the will less indifferent, i.e., more free, than others. Next we shall [25] also see that, so long as we assent to confused things, we make the mind less fit to distinguish between the true and the false, and bring it about that we lack the best liberty. So assenting to confused things, insofar as it is something positive, contains neither any imperfection [B: in itself], nor the form of error; [it contains imperfection] only [30] insofar as we thereby deprive ourselves of the best freedom, which belongs to our nature and is in our power. So the whole imperfection of error will consist solely in the privation of the best freedom, which is called error. It is said to be a Privation because we are deprived of a perfection which is suited to our nature; but [it is said to be] Error [I/176] because we lack that perfection through our own fault, insofar as we do not contain the will within the limits of the intellect to the extent that we can.

Since, then, error is nothing, in relation to man, but a privation of [5] the perfect, or right, use of freedom, it follows that it is not placed in any faculty which man has from God, nor in any operation of faculties, insofar as it depends on God. Nor can we say that God has deprived us of a greater intellect than he could have given us, and so has brought it about that we can fall into error. For nothing is such [10] that its nature can require anything of God, nor does anything pertain to anything except what the will of God has willed to bestow on it. For nothing existed prior to the will of God, nor can anything be conceived prior to it. (This is fully explained in our Appendix, II, vii and 8.) So God has no more deprived us of a greater intellect, or a [15] more perfect faculty of understanding, than he has deprived a circle of the properties of a sphere or its circumference of the properties of a spherical surface.

Therefore, since none of our faculties, however it is considered, can show any imperfection in God, it clearly follows that that imperfection [20] in which the form of error consists, is a privation only in relation to man. But considered in relation to God as its cause, it cannot be called a privation, only a negation.

P16: God is incorporeal.

[25] Dem.: Body is the immediate subject of local motion (by D7). So if God were corporeal, he would be divided into parts. Since this clearly involves an imperfection, it is absurd to affirm it of God (by D8).

[I/177] Alternative Dem.: If God were corporeal, he could be divided into parts (by D7). Now each part could either subsist through itself, or it could not. If the latter were the case, then it would be like the other [5] things created by God, and so, like every created thing, would be created continually by God by the same power (by P10 and A11), and would no more pertain to the nature of God than the other created things do. But that is absurd (by P5). On the other hand, if each part exists through itself, then each one must also involve necessary existence [10] (by P7L2), and consequently each one would be a supremely perfect being (by P7L2C). But that is also absurd (by P11). Therefore, God is incorporeal, q.e.d.

P17: God is an entirely simple being.

[15] Dem.: If God were composed of parts, the parts would have to be at least prior in nature to God (as everyone will easily concede). But that is absurd (by P12C4). Therefore, he is an entirely simple being, q.e.d.

[20] Cor.: From this it follows that God’s intellect and his will, or his Decree, and his power, are only distinguished by reason from his essence.38

[I/178] P18: God is immutable.

Dem.: If God were mutable, he could not be changed only in part, [5] but would have to be changed in respect to his whole essence (by P17). However, the essence of God exists necessarily (by P5, 6, and 7). Therefore, God is immutable, q.e.d.

P19: God is eternal.

[10] Dem.: God is a supremely perfect being (by D8), from which it follows (by P5) that he exists necessarily. If we now ascribe a limited existence to him, the limits of his existence must be understood—at least by God himself, if not by us, because he understands in the [15] highest degree (by P9). So beyond those limits God will understand himself (i.e., a supremely perfect being, by D8) as not existing. That is absurd (by P5). So God has, not a limited, but an infinite existence, which we call eternity. See our Appendix, II, 1. Therefore, God is [20] eternal, q.e.d.

P20: God has preordained all things from eternity.

Dem.: Since God is eternal (by P19), his understanding is eternal, [25] because it pertains to his eternal essence (by P17C). But his intellect [I/179] is not really distinct from his will, or decree (by P17C). So when we say that God has understood things from eternity, we are saying at the same time that he has willed, or decreed, them so from eternity, q.e.d.39

[5] Cor.: From this Proposition it follows that God is supremely constant in his works.

P21: Substance extended in length, breadth and depth really exists; and we are [10] united to one part of it.40

Dem.: The extended thing, as we perceive it clearly and distinctly, does not pertain to God’s nature (by P16), but can be created by God [15] (by P7C and P8). Now we perceive clearly and distinctly (as everyone finds in himself, insofar as he thinks) that extended substance is a sufficient cause for producing in us pleasure, pain, and similar ideas, or sensations. These are continually produced in us, even though we [20] are unwilling. But if we wish to feign some other cause of our sensations, beyond extended substance—say God or an Angel—we immediately destroy the clear and distinct concept which we have. Hence, so long as we attend rightly to our perceptions,g so that we admit nothing but what we have perceived clearly and distinctly, we shall [25] be wholly disposed (or not at all indifferent) to assent that extended substance is the only cause of our sensations. Hence [we will be wholly disposed] to affirm that the extended thing created by God exists.41 And in this we can surely not be deceived (by P14 and P14S). So it [I/180] is affirmed truly that substance extended in length, breadth, and depth exists. This was the first thing to be demonstrated.

Next, we observe that among our sensations, which must be produced in us by extended substance (as we have now demonstrated), [5] there is a great difference, viz. when I say that I sense, or see, a tree, and when I say that I am thirsty or in pain. But I clearly see that I cannot perceive the cause of this difference unless I first understand that I am closely united to one part of matter and not to others. Since [10] I understand this clearly and distinctly and cannot perceive it in any other way, it is true that I am united to one part of matter (by P14 and P14S). This was the second thing to be demonstrated.

Note: Unless the Reader here considers himself only as a thinking thing, lacking a body, and puts to one side, as prejudices, all the reasons he previously [15] had for believing that body exists, any effort to understand this proof will be in vain.

[I/181] Principles of Philosophy Demonstrated in the Geometric Manner
[5] Part II

POSTULATE: Here I ask only that everyone attend to his perceptions as accurately as possible, so as to be able to distinguish the clear from the obscure.

[10] DEFINITIONS

D1: Extension is what consists of three dimensions; but by extension we do not understand the act of extending, or anything distinct from quantity.1

D2: By substance we understand what requires only the concurrence of [15] God to exist.2

D3: An atom is a part of nature which is, by its nature, indivisible.3

D4: Indefinite is that whose limits (if it has any) cannot be discovered by the human intellect.4

D5: A vacuum is extension without corporeal substance.5

[20] D6: We make only a distinction of reason between space and extension, or they are not really distinct. Read Principles II, 10.

D7: What we understand to be divided in thought is at least potentially divisible.6

D8: Local motion is the transfer of one part of matter, or one body, [25] from the vicinity of those bodies that touch it immediately, and are considered as resting, to the vicinity of others.

[I/182] Descartes uses this definition to explain local motion. To understand it properly, we must consider:

(1) That he understands by a part of matter whatever is transferred at the same time, even though it, in turn, may consist of many parts.7

[5] (2) That for the sake of avoiding confusion he speaks in this definition only of what is constantly in the mobile thing, viz. the transfer, in order not to confuse this, as others frequently do, with the force or action which moves it. It is commonly thought that this force or action is required only for motion, and not for rest. But those who so think are thoroughly deceived. For as is [10] known through itself, the force which is needed to impart certain degrees of motion to a body at rest is also required to take away those certain degrees of motion from the body so that it is wholly at rest.

Indeed this is also proved by experience. For we use nearly the same force to [15] put in motion a boat resting in still water as we use to check suddenly the same boat when it is moving. The force would surely be exactly the same if we were not aided in checking the motion by the weight and resistance of the water the boat displaces.

(3) That he says the transfer takes place from the vicinity of contiguous bodies into the vicinity of others, and not from one place to another.8 For place, as [20] he has explained in II, 13, is not something real, but depends merely on our thought, so that the same body can be said at the same time both to change and not to change place. But it cannot be said at the same time both to be transferred and not to be transferred from the vicinity of a contiguous body. For only certain bodies can be contiguous to the same mobile [thing] at the same moment of time.

[25] (4) That he does not say absolutely that the transfer takes place from the vicinity of contiguous bodies, but only from the vicinity of those which are regarded as being at rest. If body A is transferred from body B, which is at rest, the same force and action are required on the one part as on the other.9 This is evident from the example [30] of a boat which is stuck in mud or sand at the bottom of the water. To free it, the force exerted on the bottom will have to equal that exerted on the boat. So the force by which bodies must be moved is expended equally on the body which is moved and on the one at rest. The transfer is, in fact, reciprocal; for if the boat is separated from the sand, the sand is also separated from the boat.

[I/183] Therefore, if we should wish to ascribe equal motions absolutely to two bodies which are separated from one another—one in one direction, the other in another—and should wish not to regard one as being at rest, simply because the [5] same action which is in one is in the other, then we would also be compelled to ascribe just as much motion to bodies which everyone takes to be at rest (like the sand from which the boat is separated) as we do to the bodies which move. For as we have shown, the same action is required on the one part as on the other and the transfer is reciprocal. But this would be too inconsistent with the [10] ordinary manner of speaking. Still, even though those bodies from which others are separated are regarded as being at rest, and are so spoken of, nevertheless we shall remember that whatever is in the body in motion, in virtue of which it is said to move, is also in the body at rest.

(5) Finally, it is also clear from the Definition that each body has only one [15] motion proper to it, since it is understood to depart from certain bodies only, viz. those that are contiguous to it and at rest. Nevertheless, if the body in motion is a part of other bodies, having other motions, we understand clearly that it can also participate in countless other motions. But because we cannot [20] easily understand so many at once, or even recognize all of them, it will suffice to consider in each body that one motion which is proper to it. Read Principles II, 31.

D9: By the circle of moved bodies we understand only [25] what occurs when the last body which is moved on account of the impulse of another body immediately touches the first of the bodies in motion, even though the line which is described by all the bodies at once through the impulse of one motion may be very twisted.10

AXIOMS

A1: Nothing has no properties.11

[30] A2: If something can be removed from a thing, while that thing remains intact, it does not constitute the thing’s essence, but if something, on being taken away, takes the thing away, it does constitute the thing’s essence.12

[I/184] A3: The senses do not indicate anything to us in hardness, nor do we understand anything clearly and distinctly about it, except that the parts of hard bodies resist the motion of our hands.13

A4: If two bodies move, either toward one another or away from one [5] another, they will not, on that account, occupy more or less space.

A5: Whether a part of matter moves away or resists, it does not, on that account, lose the nature of body.

A6: Motion, rest, figure and the like cannot be conceived without extension.14

[10] A7: Beyond the sensible qualities there is nothing in body except extension and its affections, enumerated in Part I of the Principles.15

A8: One space, or extension, cannot be larger at one time than at another.16

[15] A9: Every extension can be divided, at least in thought.17

No one who has learned even the elements of Mathematics doubts the truth of this axiom. For the space between a circle and a line tangent to the circle can always be divided by infinitely many other larger circles. The same thing is also evident from the Asymptotes of the Hyperbola.

[20] A10: No one can conceive the limits of any extension, or space, unless at the same time he conceives other spaces beyond them, i.e., immediately following them.18

A11: If there were more than one sort of matter and one did not touch the other immediately, each would be comprehended within limits [25] beyond which there is no matter.19

A12: The smallest bodies yield easily to the motion of our hands.

A13: One space does not penetrate another, nor is it larger at one time than at another.

[30] A14: If a pipe, A, is of the same length as another pipe, C, but C is twice as wide as A, and some fluid matter passes twice as quickly through A as what passes through C, the quantity of matter which passes through [I/185] A in a given interval of time will be the same as that which passes through C. And if the same quantity passes through A as through C, the former will move twice as quickly.20

A15: If two things agree with a third, they agree with one another. And if they are each double the same third thing, they are equal to [5] one another.

A16: Matter that moves in various ways has at least as many parts into which it is actually divided as the different degrees of speed that are observed in it at the same time.

A17: The shortest line between two points is a straight line.

[10] A18: If a body, A, in motion from C toward B, is repelled by an opposite impulse, it will be moved along the same line toward C.

A19: When two bodies which have opposite modes come into contact with one another, either both are constrained to suffer some variation, [15] or else at least one of them is.

A20: A variation in any thing proceeds from a stronger force.

A21: If, when body 1 moves toward body 2 and sets [20] it in motion, body 8 is moved toward body 1 by this impulse, bodies 1, 2, and 3, etc., cannot be in a straight line, but all of them will form a whole circle, up to body 8. See D9.

[25] L1: Where there is Extension, or Space, there is necessarily a Substance.

Dem.: Extension, or space, cannot be a pure nothing (by A1). Therefore, it is an attribute, which must necessarily be attributed to some thing. But not to God (by IP16); therefore to a thing which [30] requires only the concurrence of God to exist (by IP12), i.e. (by D2), to a substance, q.e.d.

[I/186] L2: We conceive Rarefaction and Condensation clearly and distinctly, even though we do not grant that bodies occupy a larger space when rarefied than [5] when condensed.

Dem.: We can clearly and distinctly conceive Rarefaction and Condensation as occurring when the parts of a body merely move away from one another or approach one another. Therefore (by A4) they [10] will not occupy a larger or smaller space; for if the parts of a body—say, a sponge—by, approaching one another expel the bodies which fill the intervals between the parts, this in itself renders that body more dense, and its parts will not on that account occupy a smaller space than before (by A4). And if they should move away from one [5] another again and their path should be filled by other bodies, rarefaction will take place, and yet they will not occupy a larger space. What we perceive clearly in a sponge with the aid of the senses, we can conceive by the intellect alone concerning all bodies, even though the intervals between their parts completely escape our senses [B: on account [20] of their smallness]. So we do conceive Rarefaction and Condensation clearly and distinctly, etc., q.e.d.

It seemed desirable to set these things out first so that the intellect might lay aside its prejudices about Space, Rarefaction, etc., and be made suited to understand the things that follow.

[25] P1: Even though the hardness, weight, and the rest of the sensible qualities are separated from a body, the nature of the body will still remain whole.

Dem.: Sensation does not indicate anything else to us in the hardness [30] of, say, this stone than that the parts of hard bodies resist the [I/187] motion of our hands, nor do we clearly and distinctly understand anything else about it (by A3). So hardness will also be nothing else than that (by IP14). But if that body should be reduced to as fine a [5] powder as possible, its parts will move away easily (by A12), and nevertheless it will not lose the nature of body (by A5), q.e.d.

The proof proceeds in the same way for weight and the rest of the sensible qualities.

[10] P2: The nature of Body, or Matter, consists in extension alone.

Dem.: The nature of the body is not taken away when the sensible qualities are taken away (by P1). Therefore, they do not constitute its essence (by A2). Nothing remains, then, except extension and its affections [15] (byA7), [B: which (by A6) cannot be conceived without extension]. So if extension is taken away, nothing will remain that pertains to the nature of the body, but it will be entirely taken away. Therefore, the nature of Body consists in extension alone (by A2), q.e.d.

[20] Cor.: Space and body do not really differ.

Dem.: Body and extension do not really differ (by P2), and space and extension do not really differ (by D6); therefore (by A15) space [25] and body do not really differ, q.e.d.

[I/188] Schol.: Though we say that God is everywhere, we do not thereby concede that God is extended,a i.e. (by P2), corporeal. For being [5] everywhere is related only to God’s power and concurrence, by which he preserves all things, so that God’s omnipresence is related no more to extension, or body, than to angels or human souls. But it should be noted that when we say that his power is everywhere, we do not exclude his essence. For where his power is, there his essence is also [10] (by IP17C). We exclude only corporeality, i.e., God is everywhere not by some corporeal power, but by the divine power, or essence, which is common to the preservation both of extension and of thinking things (by IP17). For God would not really have been able to preserve [15] the latter if his power, i.e., his essence, were corporeal.21

P3: It involves a contradiction that there should be a vacuum.

Dem.: By a vacuum is understood extension without corporeal substance [20] (by D5), i.e. (by P2), body without body, which is absurd.

For a fuller explanation, and to correct the prejudice about the vacuum, Principles II, 17-18 should be read. The main point there is that bodies [25] between which nothing lies must touch one another, and also that nothing has no properties.

[I/189] P4: One part of a body does not occupy a larger space at one time than at another; conversely, the same space does not contain more body at one time than at another.

[5] Dem.: Space and body do not really differ (P2C). So when we say that a space is not larger at one time than at another (by A13), we are saying thereby that a body cannot be larger, i.e., occupy a larger space, at one time than at another. That was the first thing to be [10] proven. Next, from the fact that space and body do not really differ, it follows that when we say that the body cannot occupy a larger space at one time than at another, we are saying thereby that the same space cannot contain more body at one time than at another.

[15] Cor.: Bodies which occupy equal space—say, gold and air—have just as much matter, or corporeal substance.

Dem.: Corporeal substance does not consist in the hardness of the [20] gold, nor in the softness of the air, nor in any of the sensible qualities (by P1); it consists rather in extension alone (by P2). But since (by Hypothesis) there is as much space, or (by D6) extension, in the one as in the other, there will also be as much corporeal substance, q.e.d.

[I/190] P5: There are no atoms.

Dem.: Atoms are parts of matter which are, by their own nature, [5] indivisible (by D3). But since the nature of matter consists in extension (by P2), which is, by its nature, divisible, however small it may be (by A9 and D7), a part of matter, however small, is, by its nature, divisible. I.e., there are no Atoms, or parts of matter which are, by [10] their nature, indivisible, q.e.d.

Schol.: The dispute about Atoms has always been an important and complicated one. Some maintain that there are Atoms on the ground that one infinite cannot be greater than another. If two quantities, A [15] and its double, should be divisible to infinity, they will also be able to be actually divided into infinitely many parts by the power of God, who understands their infinitely many parts in one intuition. Therefore, since, as has been said, one infinite is not greater than another, quantity A will be equal to its double, which is absurd. Again, they [20] also ask whether half of an infinite number is also infinite, whether it is even or odd, and the like.

To all these questions Descartes replies that we must not reject the things that fall under our intellect and therefore that we conceive clearly and distinctly, because of others that exceed our intellect, or grasp, [25] and that we therefore perceive only quite inadequately.22 But the infinite, and its properties, exceed the human understanding, which is finite by nature. So it would be foolish to reject as false, or to doubt, what we conceive clearly and distinctly about space, because we do [I/191] not comprehend the infinite. For this reason Descartes considers those things in which we do not perceive any limits—like the extension of the world, or the divisibility of parts of matter—as indefinite. Read Principles I, 26.

[5] P6: Matter is indefinitely extended and the matter of the heavens is one and the same as that of the earth.23

Dem.: (1) We cannot imagine any limits to extension, i.e. (by P2), [10] to matter, unless we conceive other spaces which follow immediately beyond them (by A10), i.e. (by D6), extension or matter, and that indefinitely. This was the first thing to be proven.

(2) The essence of matter consists in extension (by P2), and it is [15] indefinite (by part 1), i.e., cannot perceived by the human intellect under any limits (by D4). So (by A11) there is not more than one kind of matter, but it is one and the same everywhere. This was the second thing to be proven.

[20] Schol.: So far we have dealt with the nature, or essence, of extension. That it exists, created by God just as we conceive it, we have demonstrated in IP21. From IP12 it follows that it is now preserved by the same power by which it was created. We have also demonstrated [25] in IP21 that, insofar as we are thinking things, we are united to a part of that matter, with the aid of which we perceive that all those variations actually exist, which we know matter to be capable of from merely contemplating it. E.g., divisibility and local motion, or [I/192] the passage of one part from one place to another.24 We perceive local motion clearly and distinctly, provided that we understand that other parts of matter take the place of those that are moving.

We conceive this division and motion in infinite ways, and so can [5] conceive infinite variations of matter. I say that we conceive them clearly and distinctly so long as we conceive them as modes of extension, but not as things really distinct from extension. This is fully explained in Part I of the Principles.25 And though philosophers have [10] feigned many other motions, we who admit nothing we do not conceive clearly and distinctly, must admit no motion except local motion, since we clearly and distinctly understand that extension is not capable of any motion except local motion, nor can we even imagine any other motion.

[15] Zeno, they say, denied local motion, because of various arguments, which were refuted by Diogenes the Cynic in his fashion—i.e., by walking about the School in which Zeno was teaching these doctrines and thus disturbing those who were listening to Zeno. When he perceived that one of the listeners was holding him back to prevent his [20] walking, he reproached him, saying “How is it that you have thus dared to refute your master’s arguments?”26

Nevertheless, someone who is deceived by Zeno’s argument might think that the senses show us something (viz. motion) which the intellect finds absolutely contradictory, so that the mind would be deceived even about those things that it perceives clearly and distinctly [25] with the aid of the intellect. To prevent any such confusion, I shall set out here Zeno’s main arguments and show that they rest only on false prejudices, because he did not have a true concept of matter.

First, then, Zeno is reported to have said27 that if there were local motion, the motion of a body moving circularly with the greatest speed, [30] would not differ from rest. But the latter is absurd, so the former is also. He proves the consequence as follows. If all of the points of a body remain continuously in the same place, it is at rest. But all the points of a body moving circularly with the greatest speed remain continuously in the same place. Therefore, etc.

They say he explained this by using the example [I/193] of a wheel—say ABC. If it moves around its center with a certain speed, point A will complete the circle through B and C more quickly than it would if it [5] moved more slowly. Suppose that when it begins to move slowly, after an hour has passed it is in the same place as that from which it began. If it should move twice as quickly, it would be in that place after the passage of half an hour. If it should move four [10] times as quickly, then after a quarter of an hour. And if we conceive this speed to be increased to infinity and the time diminished to a moment, then when point A is at that greatest speed it will be at every moment, or continuously, in the place from which it began28 to be moved; so it will always remain in the same place. What we understand [15] to be the case concerning A, must also be understood to apply to all the points of this wheel. So all the points, when at that greatest speed, remain continuously in the same place.

To answer this argument, I must call attention to the fact that it is more an argument against the greatest speed of motion than against [20] motion itself. We shall not examine here whether Zeno argues rightly, but shall rather uncover his prejudices, on which this whole argument—insofar as he thinks that it attacks motion—rests. He supposes, first, that bodies can be conceived to move so quickly that they cannot [25] move more quickly, and second, that time is composed of moments, just as others have conceived that quantity is composed of indivisible points.

Both assumptions are false. For we can never conceive a motion so fast that we do not at the same time conceive a faster one. Our intellect [30] finds a contradiction in conceiving a motion so fast that there cannot be a faster one, no matter how short its course may be. The same is true of slowness. The concept of a motion so slow that there cannot be a slower one also implies a contradiction. We maintain the same thing about time, which is the measure of motion, viz. that our intellect [I/194] clearly finds a contradiction in conceiving a time so short that there cannot be a shorter one.

To prove all these assertions, let us follow in Zeno’s footsteps. Suppose, therefore, as he did, that a Wheel, ABC, moves about its center with such speed that point A is at [5] every moment in the place, A, from which it moves. I say that I clearly conceive a speed indefinitely faster [10] than this, and so moments infinitely less than these. For suppose that while the wheel, ABC, moves around its center, with the aid of a belt it makes another wheel, DEF, move around its center. Let DEF be [15] half the size of ABC. It is plain that in this case, DEF moves twice as fast as ABC, and consequently that at each half moment the point D is again in the place from which it began to move. Again, if we attribute the motion of DEF to ABC, DEF will move four times as fast as [20] [ABC did]29 before. And if we again ascribe this last speed of DEF to ABC, then DEF will move eight times faster, and so on, to infinity.

But this is clearest from the concept of matter alone. For we have proven that the essence of matter consists in extension, or space, which [25] is always divisible; and there is no motion without space. We have also demonstrated that one part of matter cannot occupy two spaces at the same time. For that would be the same as if we were to say that one part of matter is equal to its double, as is evident from what has been demonstrated above. So if a part of matter moves, it moves through [30] some space, which will be divisible, no matter how small it is feigned to be. Consequently the time by which that motion is measured will also be divisible, and the duration of that motion, or time, will be divisible, and this to infinity, q.e.d.

Let us go on now to the other sophism which he is said to have [I/195] used.30 Viz., if a body moves, it either moves in a place in which it is or in one in which it is not. But not in a place in which it is, for if it is somewhere, then it must be at rest. And not in a place in which it is not. Therefore, the body does not move.

[5] But this argument is just like the previous one. For it, too, supposes that there is a time than which no time is shorter. If we reply to the argument by saying that the body does not move in a place, but rather from the place in which it is to the place in which it is not, he will ask whether it has not been in the places in between. We may reply by drawing a distinction: if by has been he understands has rested, then [10] we deny that it has been anywhere while it was moving; but if by has been he means has existed, we say that, while it was moving, it must have existed.

Again, he will ask, where has it existed, while it was moving? We may reply once more: if by where has it existed? he means what place has [15] it stayed in? while it was moving, we say that it did not stay in any. But if he means what place has it changed? we say that it changed whatever places he might wish to assign in the space through which it was moving.

He will continue by asking whether it could, at the same moment of time, both occupy a place and change it. To this we will reply [20] finally, by drawing this distinction: if by a moment of time he understands a time than which none can be shorter, he asks something which has been adequately shown to be unintelligible and hence unworthy of an answer. But if he takes time in the sense I have explained above, i.e., in its true sense, he can never assign a time so short that, even [25] though an indefinitely shorter one might be supposed, a body could not both occupy and change its place. This is sufficiently plain to anyone who pays attention. So what we were saying above is now clearly evident—that he is supposing a time so short that there can not be a shorter one. Hence, he proves nothing.

[30] In addition to these two, still another argument of Zeno’s is commonly mentioned. This can be read, together with its refutation in the next to the last of Descartes’ Letters, Volume one.31

But here I should like my Readers to note that I have opposed my reasonings to Zeno’s reasonings, and therefore that I have refuted him [I/196] by reason, not by the senses, as Diogenes did. For the senses cannot provide anything else to one who is seeking the truth except the Phenomena of Nature, by which he is determined to investigate their causes. They can never show him that something is false that the [5] intellect has clearly and distinctly found to be true. For so we judge. And therefore, this is our Method: to demonstrate the things we put forward by reasons perceived clearly and distinctly by the intellect, and to regard as negligible whatever the senses say that seems contrary [10] to those reasons. As we have said, the senses can only determine the intellect to inquire into this matter rather than that one. They cannot convict it of falsity, when it has perceived something clearly and distinctly.

P7: No body enters the place of another unless at the same time that other body [15] enters the place of some other body.

Dem.: If you deny this, assume (if it can be done) that body Ab enters the place of body B, which, I also assume, is equal to A and does not yield its place. Therefore the space which used to contain [20] only B, now contains (by Hypothesis) both A and B. So it contains twice as much corporeal substance as before, which (by P4) is absurd. Therefore no body enters the place of another unless, etc., q.e.d.32

[25] P8: When any body enters the place of another, at the same moment of time the place left by it is occupied by another body which touches it immediately.

[I/197] Dem.: If body B moves toward D, then either bodies A and C will, at the same moment of time, approach and touch one another or they will not. If they should approach and touch one another, then what we have [5] maintained is conceded. But if they should not approach one another, then the whole space left by B would lie between A and C. Therefore, a body equal to B lies between A and C (by P2C and [10] P4C). But (by Hypothesis) the body is not identical with B. Therefore, it is another body which enters B’s place at the same moment of time. And since it enters at the same moment of time, it can be none other than one which is immediately touching. For in P6S we demonstrated [15] that there is no motion from one place to another which does not require a time such that there is always a shorter one. From this it follows that body B’s space cannot be occupied at the same moment of time by another body which would have to move through some space before it entered B’s place. So only a body which touches B [20] immediately enters its place at the same moment of time, q.e.d.

Schol.: Since the parts of matter are really distinct from one another (by Principles I, 61), one can exist without another (by IP7C), and they [25] do not depend on one another. So all those fictions about Sympathy and Antipathy are to be rejected as false. Moreover, since the cause of an effect must always be positive (by IA8), it should never be said that a body moves in order that there not be a vacuum. A body moves only on account of the impulse of another body.

[I/198] Cor.: In every motion a whole Circle of bodies moves at the same time.33

Dem.: At the same time that body 1 enters the [5] place of body 2, body 2 must enter the place of another body, say 3, and so on (by P7). Next, at the same moment of time at which body 1 enters the place of body 2, the place left behind by body 1 must be occupied by another [10] body (by P8), say 8, or another, which touches 1 immediately. Since this happens only on account of the impulse of another body (by P8S) which is here taken to be 1, not all of these bodies can be in motion in the same straight line (by A21); instead they describe a [15] whole circle (by D9), q.e.d.

P9: If a circular pipe, ABC, is full of water, and is four times as wide at A as at B, when the water (or other fluid body) which is at A begins to move [20] toward B, the water which is at B will move four times as fast.34

Dem.: Since all the water which is at A moves [25] toward B, at the same time just as much water must enter its place from C, which immediately touches A (by P8). And as much water will have to enter C’s place from B (by P8). Therefore (by A14), [30] it will move four times as quickly, q.e.d.

What we say here about a circular pipe must [I/199] also be understood to be true of all the unequal spaces through which bodies which move at the same time are forced to pass. For the demonstration will be the same in the other cases.

[5] Lemma: If two semicircles are described about the same center, as A and B are, the space between their perimeters will be equal everywhere. But if they are described about [10] different centers, as C and D are, the space between their perimeters will be unequal everywhere.

The demonstration is obvious from the definition of the circle alone.

P10: A fluid body moving through a pipe, ABC,c receives indefinite degrees [15] of speed.

Dem.: The space between A and B is unequal everywhere (by the preceding Lemma). So (by P9), the speed with which a fluid body moves through a pipe, ABC, will be unequal everywhere. Now, since [20] we conceive in thought indefinite spaces between A and B, which are always less and less (by P5), we shall also conceive the inequalities, which are everywhere, as indefinite. Hence (by P9), the degrees of speed will be indefinite, q.e.d.

[25] P11: There is a division into indefinite parts in the matter which flows through a pipe, ABC.d

[I/200] Dem.: The matter that flows through the pipe, ABC, acquires at the same time indefinite degrees of speed (by P10). Therefore (by A16), it has indefinite parts which are really divided, q.e.d. Read [5] Principles II, 34 and 35.35

Scholium: So far we have dealt with the nature of motion. Now it is necessary for us inquire into its cause, which is twofold. There is the primary, or general, cause, which is the cause of all the motions [10] that there are in the world, and there is the particular cause, by which it comes about that the individual parts of matter acquire motions that they did not have before. As far as the general cause is concerned, since nothing is to be admitted except what we perceive clearly and distinctly (by IP 14 and P15S), and since we do not clearly and distinctly [15] understand any other cause except God (i.e., the creator of matter), it is evident that no other general cause except God should be admitted.36 And what we say here about motion should also be understood to be true of rest.

[20] P12: God is the principal cause of motion.

Dem.: Examine the immediately preceding Scholium.

P13: God still preserves, by his concurrence, the same quantity of motion and [25] rest which he first imparted to matter.37

[I/201] Dem.: Since God is the cause of motion and of rest (by P12), he still preserves them by the same power by which he created them (by [5] IA10), and indeed, in that same quantity in which he first created them (by IP20C), q.e.d.

Schol.: (1) Although it may be said in Theology that God does many things from his good pleasure and to show his power to men, [10] nevertheless, since those things which depend only on his good pleasure do not become known except by divine revelation, they are not to be admitted in Philosophy, where we inquire only into what reason tells us, lest Philosophy be confused with Theology.38

(2) Although motion is nothing in the matter that moves but a mode [15] of it, nevertheless it has a certain determinate quantity. How this is to be understood will be evident from what follows. Read Principles II, 36.

P14: Each thing, insofar as it is simple, undivided, and considered in itself [20] alone, always perseveres in the same state as far as it can.39

This proposition is like an axiom to many; nevertheless, we shall demonstrate it.

[25] Dem.: Since nothing is in any state except by God’s concurrence alone (IP12) and God is supremely constant in his works (IP20C), if we attend to no external, i.e., particular causes, but consider the thing by itself, we shall have to affirm that insofar as it can it always perseveres [30] in the state in which it is, q.e.d.

[I/202] Cor.: Once a body moves, it always continues to move unless it is impeded by external causes.

[5] Dem.: This is obvious from P14. Nevertheless, to correct the prejudice about motion, read Principles II, 37-38.

P15: Every body in motion tends of itself to continue to move in a straight line, not in one which is curved.40

[10] It would be proper to number this proposition among the axioms, but I shall demonstrate it as follows from what has been shown above.

Dem.: Because the motion has only God as its cause (P12),41 it never [15] has any power to exist of itself (IA10), but is as it were created by God at every moment (by those things which are demonstrated concerning the axiom just cited). Hence, so long as we attend only to the nature of the motion, we shall never be able to attribute to it, as pertaining to its nature, a duration that can be conceived to be greater [20] than another. But if it should be said to pertain to the nature of a body in motion that it describes a curved line by its own motion, a greater duration would be attributed to the nature of the motion than when it is supposed to be of the nature of the moving body to tend to [25] continue to move in a straight line (A17). But since (as we have just demonstrated) we cannot attribute such a duration to the nature of the motion, neither can we assert that it is of the nature of the moving body to continue to move in a curved line, but only in a straight line, q.e.d.

[I/203] Scholium: To many, perhaps, it will seem that this Demonstration shows no more that it does not pertain to the nature of motion to describe a curved line, than that it does pertain to the nature of motion [5] to describe a straight line. For no straight line can be assigned such that there is none shorter, whether straight or curved, nor any curved line such that there is not also another shorter curve. But though I have considered these things, I still judge that the demonstration proceeds correctly. It reaches the conclusion proposed for demonstration [10] from the universal essence, or essential difference, of lines, not from the quantity of anything, or not from an accidental difference.

But to demonstrate a thing already clear enough in itself might make it more obscure. So I shall refer the Readers simply to the definition of motion [D8], which affirms nothing of motion except that it is the [15] transfer of one part of matter from the vicinity, etc., into the vicinity of others, etc. So unless we conceive this transfer most simply, i.e., as occurring in a straight line, we add something to the motion which is not contained in its definition, or essence. So it does not pertain to its nature.

[20] Cor.: From this proposition it follows that every body which moves in a curved line continuously deviates from the line along which it would, of itself, go on moving; and this occurs by the force of some external cause (P14).

[25] P16: Every body which moves in a circle, as for example, a stone in a sling, is continuously determined to go on moving along a tangent.42

[I/204] Dem.: A body that moves in a circle is continuously prevented by an external force from continuing to move in a straight line (by P15C). If this [5] force ceases, the body of itself will continue to move in a straight line (by P15). I say, moreover, that a body moving in a circle is determined by an external [10] cause to continue to move along a tangent. For, if you deny this, suppose there is a stone at B which is determined to move by a sling, not along the tangent BD, but along another line from the same point, [15] a line conceived as either outside the circle or within it—say, along BF, when the sling is assumed to come from L toward B, or along BG, if it is supposed to come from C toward B (I understand BG and BF to form equal angles with the line BH which is drawn from the [20] center of the circle and cuts the circumference at B). But if the stone at B is supposed to be determined by the sling, which is moving in a circle from L toward B, so that the stone continues to move toward F, then necessarily (by A18) when the sling moves in an opposite direction, from C toward B, the stone will be determined to continue [25] to move along the same line, BF, in an opposite direction. Hence, it will tend toward K, not toward G. But this is contrary to the hypothesis. And since, except for the tangent, there can be no line drawn through B which makes equal angles with the line BH (as DBH and [30] ABH do),e there can be none except the tangent which can preserve the hypothesis, whether the sling moves from L toward B or from C toward B. So there can be no line except the tangent along which it tends to move, q.e.d.

[I/205] Alt. Dem.: Conceive, instead of a circle, a Hexagon, ABH, inscribed in a circle, and a body [5] C at rest on one side, AB. Then conceive that a ruler, DBE (with one end fixed in the center [10] at D and the other end movable) moves around the center, continuously cutting the line AB. It is evident that if the ruler, DBE, while it is conceived [15] to move in this way, meets body C at the time when it cuts the line AB at right angles, the ruler will determine C by its impulse, to continue to move [20] toward G along the line FBAG, i.e., along the line AB extended indefinitely.

But because we have assumed a Hexagon at our pleasure, we shall have to say the same of any other figure which we conceive can be inscribed in this circle—i.e., that when a body, C, lying at rest on [25] one side of the figure, is struck by a ruler, DBE, at the same time DBE cuts the side at right angles, it will be determined by that ruler to continue to move along that side produced indefinitely. Conceive, then, instead of a Hexagon, a rectilinear figure of infinitely many sides [30] (i.e., a circle, according to Archimedes’ definition). It is evident that the ruler, DBE, whenever it meets C, always meets it at that time when it cuts some side of the figure at right angles. Hence it will never [I/206] meet C without determining it at the same time to continue to move along that side. And since any side, extended in any direction, must always fall outside the figure, this side, indefinitely extended, will be [5] tangent to a figure of infinitely many sides, i.e., a circle. Therefore, if we conceive, instead of a ruler, a sling moving in a circle, it will continuously determine this stone to go on moving along a tangent, q.e.d.

Here it should be noted that both of these demonstrations can be adapted to [10] any curved figure.

P17: Every body that moves in a circle strives to move away from the center of the circle that it describes.43

[15] Dem.: As long as a body moves in a circle, it is compelled by an external cause. When this ceases, it continues at the same time to move along a tangent (by P16), all of whose points, except that which [20] touches the circle, fall outside the circle (by Euclid’s Elements III P16), and so are further away from its center. So when a stone which moves in [25] a circle in the sling EA is at point A, it strives to continue along a line whose points are all further away from the center, E, than are all of the points of the circumference LAB. Doing this is nothing but striving to move away from the center of the circle [30] which it describes, q.e.d.

[I/207] P18: If a body, say A, moves toward another body at rest, B, and nevertheless B does not lose any of its rest on account of the impetus of A, then A will also [5] not lose any of its motion, but it will retain entirely the same quantity of motion that it had before.44

Dem.: If you deny this, suppose that body A loses some of its motion, and nevertheless does not transfer [10] what it has lost to another, say to B. Then, when this happens, there will be a lesser quantity of motion in nature than there was before, which is absurd (P13). The Demonstration proceeds in the same way with respect to the rest in body B. So if the one transfers nothing to the other, B will retain all its rest, and A will retain all its [15] motion, q.e.d.

P19: Motion, considered in itself, is different from its determination in some definite direction; nor is it necessary that a moving body be at rest for a time, [20] in order to move in an opposite direction, or be repelled.45

Dem.: Assume, as in the preceding proposition, that body A is moving in a straight line toward B, and is prevented by B from continuing further. Therefore (P18) A will retain its whole motion, and [25] will not be at rest for any interval of time, however small. Nevertheless, although it continues to move, it does not move in the same direction in which it was moving before. For it is supposed to be prevented by B. Hence since its motion remains intact, and its former [I/208] determination [in a certain direction] is lost, it will move in the opposite direction, and not in any other (by those things said in chap. 2 of the Dioptric). Hence (by A2) its determination [in a certain direction] does not pertain to the essence of the motion, but differs from it. Nor does a moving body, when it is repelled, remain at rest for some time, [5] q.e.d.

Cor.: From this it follows that motion is not contrary to motion.

P20: If body A meets body B, and takes B with it, A will lose as much motion [10] as B acquires because of its meeting with A.46

Dem.: If you deny this, suppose that B acquires more or less motion from A than A loses. That whole difference will have to be added to or subtracted from [15] the quantity of motion of the whole of nature, which is absurd (by P13). Since, therefore, body B can acquire neither more nor less motion, it will acquire as much as A loses, q.e.d.

[20] P21: If body A is twice as large as Bf and is moving with equal speed, A will also have twice as much motion as B, or twice as much force for retaining a speed equal to B’s.

[25] Dem.: Let twice B be put in place of A, i.e. (by Hypothesis), one A divided in two equal parts; each B has a force for remaining in the state in which it is (P14), and that force is equal in each of them (by [I/209] Hyp.); now if these two Bs are joined, their speed remaining the same, there will result one A, whose force and quantity will be equal to two Bs, or twice one B, q.e.d.

Note that this also follows simply from the definition of motion; for the greater a moving body is, the more matter there is which is separated from [5] other matter; there is, therefore, more separation, i.e. (by D8), more motion. See our fourth note on the definition of motion [I/182ff.].

P22: If body A is equal to body B, and A is moving twice as fast as B, the [10] force, or motion, in A will be twice that of B.g

Dem.: Assume that when B first acquired a certain force for moving, it acquired four degrees of speed. If nothing comes near it, it will [15] continue to move (by P14) and to persevere in its state. Suppose it again acquires, from some new impulse, another new force equal to the first, so that it acquires, in addition to the first four, four more degrees of speed, which it will also maintain (by P14). I.e., it will move twice as quickly as before, i.e., as quickly as A; and it will at [20] the same time have twice the force, i.e., a force equal to A’s. So the motion in A is twice that in B, q.e.d.

Note that here, by force in moving bodies, we understand a quantity of motion, which must be greater, in bodies of equal size, as the speed of motion is greater, insofar as the equal bodies are, by that speed, separated more, in the [25] same time, from bodies immediately touching them, than they would be if they were moving more slowly. Therefore (by D8) they also have more motion. But in bodies at rest we understand by force of resisting a quantity of rest.47 From which it follows that

[30] Cor. 1: The more bodies are moving slowly, the more they participate in [I/210] rest. For they offer more resistance to bodies moving more quickly which meet them and have less force than they. They are also separated less from bodies which touch them immediately.

[5] Cor. 2: If body A moves twice as quickly as body B, and B is twice as large as A, there is just as much motion in the larger B as in the smaller A; and hence there is also an equal force.

Dem.: Let B be twice as large as A, and A move twice as quickly [10] as B; next, let C be half as large as B, and move with half the speed of A. Then B (by P21) will have a motion twice as great as C’s, and A (by P22) will have a motion twice as great as C’s. Therefore (by A15) B and A have equal motion, for the motion of each is twice that [15] of the same third thing, C, q.e.d.

Cor. 3: From these it follows that motion is distinguished from speed. For we conceive that of bodies which have equal speed, one can have [20] more motion than another (P21); and on the other hand, those which have unequal speed can have equal motion (by P22C2). This can also be inferred just from the definition of motion. For it is nothing but the transfer of one body from the vicinity, etc.

But here it should be noted that this third Corollary is not inconsistent with [25] the first. For we conceive of speed in two ways: either insofar as a body is separated more or less in the same time from the bodies immediately touching it (and to that extent it participates more or less in motion or rest) or insofar as it describes a greater or lesser line in the same time (and to that extent it is distinguished from motion).

[I/211] I could have added other propositions here to explain P14 more fully, and to explain the forces of things in each state, as we have done here concerning motion. But it will be enough to read over Principles II, 43, and to annex one proposition which is necessary for understanding those which follow.

P23: When the modes of a body are forced to suffer variation, that variation will always be the least that there can be.

[10] Dem.: This proposition follows clearly enough from P14.

P24, Rule 1: If two bodies, A and B, absolutely equal, and moving in a straight line toward each other with equal speed,h meet, each will be reflected [15] in the opposite direction without losing any part of its speed.48

In this hypothesis it is clearly evident that, to remove the contrariety of these two bodies, either each of them must be reflected in an opposite direction, or one must take the other with it. For they are contrary to one another only with respect to their determination in a [20] certain direction, not with respect to their motion.

Dem.: When A and B meet, they must undergo some variation (by A19). But since motion is not contrary to motion (by P19C), they will [25] not be forced to lose any of their motion (by A19). Hence the change will occur only in the determination [in a certain direction]. But we cannot conceive that the determination of only one—say B—is changed, unless we should suppose that A, by which it would have to be changed, [I/212] has more force (by A20). But this would be contrary to the hypothesis. Therefore, since the change of determination in a certain direction cannot occur only in one, it will occur in each of them, with both A and B moving off in an opposite direction (but not in just any other [5] direction—according to what is said in chapter 2 of the Dioptric and retaining its motion intact, q.e.d.49

P25, Rule 2: If two bodies are unequal in bulk, B being larger than A, and the rest assumed to be as before,i then only A will be reflected, and each will [10] continue to move with the same speed.50

Dem.: Since A is supposed to be smaller than B, it will also have less force than B (P21). But since, in this hypothesis (as in the preceding one), there is contrariety only in the determination [in a certain [15] direction], then, as we demonstrated in P24, the variation must occur only in the determination [in a certain direction]. It will occur in A and not in B (A20). So only A will be reflected in the opposite direction by B, which has more force, with A retaining its speed intact, q.e.d.

[20] P26: If two bodies are unequal both in bulk and speed, B being twice as large as A, but the motion in A being twice as fast as that in B, and the rest assumed to be as before,j then each will be reflected in an opposite direction, [25] and each will retain the speed it had.

Dem.: When A and B move toward each other, according to the hypothesis, there is just as much motion in the one as in the other (P22C2), and51 the motion of the one will not be opposed to that of [I/213] the other (P19C), and the forces in each are equal (P22C2). Hence this hypothesis is just like the hypothesis of P24. Therefore, A and B are [5] reflected in an opposite direction, each retaining its motion intact (by the demonstration of P24), q.e.d.

Cor.: From these three preceding propositions it is clear that to change a body’s determination [in a certain direction] requires a force [10] equal to that required to change its motion.52 From which it follows that a body which loses more than half of its determination [in a certain direction] and more than half its motion, suffers more change than one which loses its whole determination [in a certain direction].

[15] P27, Rule 3: If two bodies are equal in bulk, but B is moving a little more quickly than A, not only will A be reflected in the opposite direction, but also B will transfer to A half of its excess speed, and both will proceed to move in the same direction at the same speed.53

[20] Dem.: By hypothesis A is opposed to B not only in its determination [in a certain direction], but also in its slowness, insofar as it participates in rest (by P22C1). So even if it were reflected in the opposite direction, and only [25] its determination [in a certain direction] were changed, not all of the contrariety of the two bodies would thereby be removed. So (by A19) the variation must occur both in the determination and in the motion. But since B (by hypothesis) moves more quickly than A, B will have more force than A (P22). So (by A20) the change in A will proceed [30] from B, from which A will be reflected in the opposite direction. This was the first thing to be proved.

[I/214] Next, so long as A moves more slowly than B, it is opposed to B (by P22C1); therefore, the variation must occur (by A19) until it does not move more slowly than B. But that A should move faster than B is something which, in this hypothesis, is not compelled by any cause [5] of enough force. [B: For if B could impel A so that it moved more quickly than B, these bodies would suffer more variation than was necessary to remove their contrariety. It really was removed (as we [10] proved just now) when A did not move more slowly than B; so (by P23) B cannot impel A to move faster than B.] Since, therefore, when A is impelled by B, it can move neither more slowly than B, nor faster than B, it will proceed to move as fast as B.

[15] Next, if B should transfer less than half its excess speed to A, then A would proceed to move more slowly than B. But if B should transfer more than half its excess speed to A, A would proceed to move faster than B. But each of these is absurd, as we have already demonstrated. Therefore, the variation will occur just until B has transferred [20] to A half its excess speed, which (by P20) B must lose. So both will proceed to move in the same direction with equal speed without any contrariety, q.e.d.

Cor.: From this it follows that, the faster a body is moving, the [25] more it is determined to continue moving in the direction in which it is moving; and conversely, the slower it is moving, the less determination [in a certain direction] it has.

Schol.: So that my Readers do not here confuse the force of determination [in a certain direction] with the force of motion, it [30] seems desirable to add a few words to explain this distinction. If two bodies, A and C, should be conceived as equal, and as moving in a straight line toward one another with [35] equal speed, they will be reflected in the opposite direction and retain [I/215] their motion intact (P24). But if C is at B, and is moving obliquely toward A, it is clear that it is less determined to move along the line BD, or CA. So although it has a motion equal to A’s, C’s force of [5] determination when moving directly toward A (which is equal to A’s force of determination) is greater than its force of determination when moving from B toward A, and is as much greater as the line BA is [10] longer than the line CA. For the longer line BA is in relation to CA, then (when B and A are moving with equal speed, as we assume here) the more time B requires to be able to move along the line BD or CA, [15] through which it is opposed to the determination of body A. Therefore, when C meets A obliquely, from B, it will be determined as if it would proceed to move along the line AB toward B (which I assume to be as far from C as C is from B when it is at the point where line AB intersects the extended line BC). But A, retaining its motion and [20] determination intact, will continue to move toward C and will drive body B54 with it, since B, so long as it is determined to motion along the diagonal AB, and is moving with a speed equal to A’s, requires more time than A to describe any part of the line AC by its own motion. And to that extent it is opposed to the determination of body [25] A, which has more force.

But for C’s force of determination, when it is moving from B to A (insofar as it participates in the line CA), to be equal to its force of determination when moving directly toward A (i.e., by hypothesis, to be equal to A’s force of determination), B will have to have more [30] degrees of motion than A in proportion as the line BA is longer than the line CA. And then, when it meets body A obliquely, A will be reflected in the opposite direction, toward A, and B toward B, each retaining its motion intact.

But if the excess of B over A is greater than the excess of the line [35] BA over the line CA, then B will drive A back toward A, and transfer a part of its motion to A, until the motion of B is related to the motion [I/216] of A, as the line BA is to the line CA, and B will continue to move in the direction in which it was moving before, losing as much motion as it transferred to A. E.g., if line AC is to line AB as 1 to 2, and the motion of body A is to the motion of body B as 1 to 5, then B will [5] transfer to A one degree of its motion, drive it back in the opposite direction, and continue to move in the same direction in which it was tending before, with the four remaining degrees of motion.

P28, Rule 4: If body A is completely at rest and a little larger than B,k then [10] no matter how fast B moves toward A, it will never move A, but will be driven back by it in the opposite direction, without loss of motion.55

Note that the contrariety of these bodies is removed in three ways: either one takes the other with it, and afterwards they continue to [15] move in the same direction at equal speeds; or one is reflected in the opposite direction, and the other [B errata: which is at rest] retains its rest intact; or one is reflected in the opposite direction, and transfers some of its motion to the other, which was at rest. But there is no fourth way (by P13). Therefore it will have to be demonstrated now (by P23) that, in accordance with our hypothesis, the least change occurs in these bodies.56

[20] Dem.: If B were to move A until they both proceeded to move with the same speed, then (by P20) it would have to transfer as much of its motion to A as A acquires, and (by P21) it would have to lose more [25] than half of its motion. Consequently (by P27C) it would have to also lose more than half of its determination [in a certain direction]. Hence, (by P26C) it would suffer more change than if it lost only its determination [in a certain direction]. And if A should lose some of its rest, but not so much that it proceeded to move as fast as B, then the [30] contrariety of these two bodies would not be removed. For A, by its slowness, insofar as it participates in rest, will be opposed to the speed of B (by P22C1). There B will still have to be reflected in the opposite direction, and will lose its whole determination [in a certain direction] [35] and part of its motion, which it transferred to A. This is also a greater [I/217] change than if it were to lose only its determination [in a certain direction]. Therefore since the change is only in the determination, it is, in accordance with our hypothesis, the least which can occur in these bodies. Hence, no other change occurs (by P23), q.e.d.

[5] It should be noted that in the demonstration of this Proposition (as in other demonstrations) we have not cited P19, in which it is demonstrated that the whole determination can be changed, while the whole motion remains intact. Nevertheless you must attend to this proposition to rightly perceive the force of the demonstration. For in P23 we did not say that the variation will [10] always be absolutely the least, but the least there can be. It is evident from P18, P19, and P19C that such a change as we have assumed in this demonstration, i.e., one consisting only in the determination, can occur.

[15] P29, Rule 5: If a body at rest, A, is smaller than B, then no matter how slowly B moves toward A.l it will move it with it, and transfer a part of its motion to A, so that afterwards both will move with equal speed. (Read Principles II, 50.)

[20] In this Rule also, as in the preceding one, we can conceive only three cases in which this contrariety would be removed. Indeed we shall demonstrate that, in accordance with our hypothesis, the least change happens in these bodies. Therefore (by P23), they also must be changed in such a way.

[25] Dem.: According to our hypothesis, B transfers to A (by P21) less than half its motion, and (by P27C)57 less than half its determination [in a certain direction]. If B did not take A with it, but were reflected in the opposite direction, it would lose its whole determination, and a [30] greater variation would occur (by P26C)—much greater, if it were to lose its whole determination, and at the same time, part of its motion, as is supposed in the third case. Hence the variation [B: which occurs in these bodies] is, in accordance with our hypothesis, the least, q.e.d.

[I/218] P30, Rule 6: If body A, which is at rest, were exactly equal to body B, which is in motion toward it, [A] would partly be impelled by [B], and partly drive [B] back in the opposite direction.58

[5] Here also, as in the preceding proposition, only three cases can be conceived. Therefore we shall have to demonstrate that we assert here the least variation that there can be.

Dem.: If body B takes body A with it, until both [10] proceed to move with equal speed, then there will be as much motion in the one as in the other (P22) and (by P27C) it must lose half of its determination, and also (by P20) half [15] of its motion. But if it is driven back by A in the opposite direction, then it will lose all of its determination and retain all of its motion (by P18). The second variation is equal to the first (by P26C). But neither of these can happen. For if A were to keep its state, and could change [20] B’s determination, it would necessarily have more force than B (by A20), which is contrary to the hypothesis. And if B were to take A with it until both were moving with equal speed, B would have more force than A, which is also contrary to the hypothesis. Therefore, since neither of these cases can happen, the third will, i.e., B will set [25] A in motion a little59 and be driven back by A, q.e.d. Read Principles II, 51.

P31, Rule 7: If B and A should be moving in the same direction, A more [30] slowly, and B following after it more quickly, so that B finally strikes A, and [I/219] if A should be larger than B, but the excess of speed in B should be greater than the excess of size in A,m then B would transfer so much of its motion to A that afterwards they both proceed in the same direction, with the same speed. [5] But if, on the other hand, the excess of size in A should be greater than the excess of speed in B, [B] would be reflected in the opposite direction, retaining all of its motion.

Read Principles II, 52. Here, as in the preceding propositions, only three cases can be conceived.

[10] Dem.: Of part 1: B, which is supposed to have more force than A (by P21 and P22), cannot be reflected in the opposite direction by A (by A20). Therefore, since B has more force, it will move A with it, and indeed, in such a way that they proceed to move with equal speed. [15] For then the least change will occur, as is easily apparent from the preceding.

Of part 2: B, which is supposed to have less force than A (by P21 and P22), cannot impel A (by A20), nor give it any of its own motion. [20] So (by P14C) B will retain all of its motion, [but] not in the same direction, since it is supposed to be impeded by A. Therefore (by what is said in The Dioptric, chap. 2) it will be reflected in the opposite direction—not in any other direction—retaining all of its motion (by P18), q.e.d.

[25] Note that here and in the preceding Propositions we have assumed as demonstrated that every body which directly meets another, by which it is completely prevented from going further in the same direction, must be reflected in the opposite direction, not in any other direction. To understand this, read chap. 2 of the Dioptric.60

[30] Schol.: Up till now, to explain the changes of bodies that arise from the impulse of one on the other, we have considered two bodies as [I/220] divided from all bodies, and taken no account of the bodies surrounding them on all sides.61 But now we shall consider their state and changes, taking into account the surrounding bodies.

[5] P32: If body B is surrounded on all sides by particles in motion, which are striking it in every direction at once with equal force, then so long as no other cause occurs, it will remain in the same place unmoved.

[10] Dem.: This proposition is evident in itself. For if it were moved in any direction by the impulse of particles coming from one direction, the particles that moved it would strike it with greater force than the others that were striking it at the same time in an opposite direction and could not have their effect (by A20),62 which would be contrary [15] to the hypothesis.

P33: Body B, in the same conditions as assumed above, can be moved in any direction whatever by any external force, no matter how small.63

[20] Dem.: Because all bodies touching B immediately are in motion (by Hyp.), and B remains unmoved (by P32), those bodies are reflected in another direction, retaining all of their motion, as soon as they touch B (by P28). So body B is automatically, and continuously, left by the [25] bodies touching it immediately. Therefore, however large B is feigned to be, no action is required to separate it from the bodies immediately touching it (by what we have noted in section 4 concerning D8). So no external force, no matter how small it is feigned to be, can be thrust [I/221] against it, which is not greater than the force which B has for remaining in the same place (for we have just now demonstrated that it has no force for adhering to the bodies immediately touching it); nor can there be any external force which is not also greater than the force of [5] the other particles striking B in an opposite direction, when it is added to the impulse of the particles which at the same time drive B in the same direction as the external force does (for it was supposed that without the external force, the forces of the particles were equal). Therefore (by A20), body B will be moved in any direction whatever [10] by this external force, however slight it is feigned to be, q.e.d.

P34: Body B, in the conditions assumed above, cannot move more quickly than it is driven by an external force, even though the particles by which it is surrounded may be agitated far more rapidly.

[15] Dem.: The particles that strike body B at the same time and in the same direction as the external force, even though they may be agitated much more rapidly than the external force can move B, nevertheless (by hyp.) do not have a greater force than the bodies which drive B [20] back in the opposite direction. Hence, they expend all their forces of determination merely in resisting these, without (by P32) yielding any of their speed to it. Therefore, since no other circumstances, or causes, are supposed, B will receive a quantity of speed from no cause other [25] than the external force. So (by IA8)64 it will not be able to be moved more quickly than it is driven by the external force, q.e.d.

P35: When body B is thus moved by an external impulse, it receives the greatest part of its motion from the bodies by which it is continuously surrounded, [30] not from the external force.65

[I/222] Dem.: Even though body B may be feigned to be very large, it must be moved by any impulse, no matter how slight (by P33). Let us conceive, therefore, that B is four times larger than the external body [5] by whose force it is set in motion. Since (by P34) both bodies must move with equal speed, there will be four times as much motion in B as in the external body by which it is set in motion (by P21). So (by IA8) it does not have the principal part of its motion from the external [10] force. And because, beyond this, no other causes are supposed except the bodies by which it is continuously surrounded (for B is supposed to be, of itself, unmoved), it receives the chief part of its motion solely from the bodies (by IA7) by which it is surrounded, not from the external force, q.e.d.

Note that here we cannot say, as we did above, that the motion of the [15] particles coming from one direction is required to resist the motion of the particles coming from the opposite direction. For bodies moving toward one another with an equal motion (as these are here supposed to be) are contrary only in their determination [in a certain direction], not in their motion (by P19C). Therefore they expend only their determination in resisting each other, but not [20] their motion.n For this reason, body B can receive no determination, and consequently (by P27C) no speed (insofar as speed is distinguished from motion) from the bodies surrounding it. But it can receive motion. Indeed, as the external force approaches, B must necessarily be moved by them, as we have demonstrated in this Proposition, and as you can clearly see from the way we [25] have demonstrated P33.

P36: If any body, e.g., our hand, can move with equal motion in any direction whatever, so that it does not in any way resist any bodies, and no other bodies [30] resist it in any way, then, in that space through which it would thus move, there will necessarily be as many bodies moving in one direction as in any other, and each will move with a force of speed equal to that of any other and to that of our hand.

[I/223] Dem.: A body can move through no space which is not full of bodies (by P3). Therefore I say that the space through which our hand [5] can thus move is filled by bodies which will move under the same conditions that I have indicated. If you deny this, suppose that they are either at rest or moving in some other way.

If they are at rest, they will necessarily resist the motion of our hand (by P14) until its motion is communicated to them so that in the end they are moving in the same direction that it is, and with an equal [10] speed (P20). But in the hypothesis, they are assumed not to resist. Therefore, these bodies are moving, which was the first thing to be proved.

Next, they must be moving in all directions. For if you deny this, assume that they are not moving in some direction, say from A toward [15] B. Therefore, if the hand is moving from A toward B, it will meet bodies which are moving (by the first part of this demonstration), and moving (according to your hypothesis) with a determination different from that of the hand. So they will resist it (by P14) until they are [20] moving in the same direction as our hand (by P24 and P27S). But (by Hyp.) they do not resist our hand. Therefore, they will be moving in every direction, which was the second thing to be proved.

Again, these bodies will be moving in every direction with a force of speed which is equal in each of them. [25] For if they were supposed to be moving with an unequal force of speed, then let it be assumed that those which are moving from A toward B are not moving with so great a force of speed as those which are moving from A toward C. So if the hand should move from A to B with the same speed with which bodies are [30] moving from A to C (for it is supposed to be able to move with an equal motion in every direction without resistance), then the bodies moving from A toward B will resist the hand (by P14) until they are moving with a force of speed equal to that of the hand (by P31). But [I/224] this is contrary to the hypothesis. Therefore, they will move in every direction with an equal force of speed, which was the third thing to be proved.

Finally, if the bodies are moving with a force of speed not equal to that of the hand, the hand will move either more slowly, or with less [5] force of speed, or more rapidly, or with a greater force of speed, than the bodies do. If the former, then the hand will resist the bodies following it in the same direction (by P31); if the latter, then the bodies which our hand follows, and with which it is moving in the same direction, will resist it (by P31). But each of these is contrary to the [10] hypothesis. Therefore, since our hand can move neither more quickly nor more slowly, it will move with a force of speed equal to that of the bodies, q.e.d.

If you ask, why I say “with an equal force of speed,” and not, unconditionally, “with equal speed,” read P27CS. If you then ask whether the hand, while [15] it is moving, for example, from A to B, does not resist the bodies moving at the same time, with equal force, from B to A, read P33. From that you will understand that their force is balanced by the force of the bodies which are moving at the same time with the hand from A to B (for the latter force, by the 3rd part of this proposition, is equal to the former).

[20] P37: If a body, say A, can be moved in any direction whatever, by any force, no matter how small, it must be surrounded by bodies each moving with a speed equal to that of the others.

[25] Dem.: Body A must be surrounded on every side by bodies (by P6), moving equally in every direction. For if they were at rest, body A could not be moved in any direction whatever, by any force, no [30] matter how small (as is supposed in the hypothesis), but only by a force great enough to be able to move with it the bodies immediately touching A (by A20).

Next, if the bodies by which A is surrounded [I/225] were moving with a greater force in one direction than in another—say from B to C rather than from C to B—since it is surrounded on every side by moving bodies (as we have just now demonstrated), the [5] bodies moving from B to C would necessarily bear A with them in the same direction (by what we have demonstrated in P33). So not any small force would suffice to move A toward B, but only one great enough to make up for the excess of motion of the bodies coming from [10] B to C (by A20). So they must be moving with an equal force in every direction, q.e.d.

Schol.: Since these things happen concerning those bodies which are called Fluid, it follows that fluid bodies are those which are divided into many small particles, moving with equal force in all directions. [15] And although those particles cannot be seen by an eye, no matter how sharpsighted, nevertheless what we have just clearly demonstrated should not be denied. For such minuteness of nature, which cannot be determined or reached by any thought (not to mention the senses), is sufficiently proven from the previously stated PP10 and 11.

[20] Again, since it is also sufficiently established from the preceding, that bodies resist other bodies only by their rest, and that we perceive nothing else in hardness, as the senses indicate, than that the parts of hard bodies resist the motion of our hands, we clearly infer that those bodies whose particles are all at rest in relation to each other are hard. [25] Read Principles II, 54-56.

[I/226] Principles of Philosophy Demonstrated Geometrically
Part III

HAVING thus set out the most universal principles of natural things, we must now proceed to explain those things that follow from them. But since the things that follow from these principles are more than [10] our mind can ever survey in thought, and since we are not determined by them to consider some rather than others, we should first set out a brief history of the main Phenomena whose causes we shall investigate here.1 But you have this in Principles III, from article 5 up to [15] article 15. And from article [20] to article [43] Descartes proposes the hypothesis that he judges most convenient, not only to understand the Phenomena of the heavens, but also to investigate their natural causes.

Next, since the best way to understand the nature of Plants and of [20] Man is to consider how they gradually come to be and are generated from seeds, we shall have to devise such principles as are very simple and very easy to know, from which we may demonstrate how the stars, earth and finally all those things that we find in this visible [25] world, could have arisen, as if from certain seeds—even though we may know very well that they never did arise that way. For by doing this we shall exhibit their nature far better than if we only described what they now are.2

I say that we seek principles that are simple and easy to know; for [30] if they are not, we shall not need them. We only ascribe seeds to [I/227] things fictitiously, in order to get to know their nature more easily, and in the manner of the Mathematicians, to ascend from the clearest things to the more obscure, and from the simplest to the more composite.3

[5] Next, we say that we seek principles from which we may demonstrate how the stars, earth, etc., could have arisen. For we do not seek causes that suffice only to explain the Phenomena of the heavens (as the Astronomers usually do), but causes that will lead us also to a [10] knowledge of the things on earth. For we judge that whatever we observe to happen on the earth ought to be counted among the Phenomena of nature.

To discover such principles, we must observe the following requirements for a good hypothesis:

[15] 1. Considered only in itself, it should imply no contradiction.

2. It should be the simplest there can be.

3. It should be the easiest to know (this follows from the second requirement).

4. Everything which is observed in the whole of nature should be capable of being deduced from it.4

[20] We have said, finally, that we are permitted to assume a hypothesis from which, as from a cause, we can deduce the Phenomena of nature, even though we may know very well that they have not arisen in this way.

So that you may understand this, I shall use the following example. If someone should find drawn on a paper the curved line we call a [25] Parabola, and wish to investigate its nature, it is all the same whether he supposes that line to have been, first cut from some Cone, and then pressed on the paper, or to have been described by the motion of two straight lines, or to have arisen in some other way—provided that he demonstrates all the properties of the Parabola from what he supposes. [30] Indeed, even though he may know it to have come to be from the pressing of a Conic section on the paper, he will nevertheless be able to feign any other cause he pleases, which seems to him most convenient to explain all the properties of the Parabola. Similarly we are permitted to assume any hypothesis we please to explain the features [I/228] of nature, provided that we deduce all the Phenomena of nature from it by Mathematical consequences.

And what is more worthy of note, is that we shall hardly be able to assume anything from which the same effects could not be deduced, though perhaps with more difficulty, through the Laws of nature explained [5] above.

For since matter, with the aid of these Laws, successively takes on all the forms of which it is capable, if we consider those forms in order, we will be able, in the end, to arrive at [the form] of this world. So no error is to be feared from a false hypothesis.5

[10] Post: We ask it to be conceded: [i] that in the beginning God divided all that matter of which this visible world is composed into particles which were, as nearly as possible, equal to one another (not, indeed, into spheres, for several spheres joined together do not fill a continuous [15] space, but) into parts shaped in another way and of medium size, or of a size intermediate among all those of which the heavens and stars are now composed; [ii] that these particles had just as much motion among themselves as is now found in the world, and were moving equally—both each one around its own center and separately from [20] one another (so that they would make up a fluid body, such as we think the heavens to be) and also many together around certain other centers, equally removed from one another, and distributed in the same way that the centers of the fixed stars now are; [iii] that they were also moved around several other [25] points, which equal the number of the Planets; and [iv] that they would thus make as many different vortices as there now are stars in the world.6 See the Figure for Principles III, 47.7

This hypothesis, considered in itself, does not imply any contradiction. For it does not ascribe to matter anything except divisibility and motion, modifications which, as we have demonstrated above, really exist in matter; and because we have shown that indefinite matter is [30] one and the same as the matter of the heavens and the earth, we can suppose these modifications to have been in the whole of matter, without worrying about any contradiction.8

[I/229] Next, this hypothesis is the simplest, because it supposes inequality or dissimilarity neither in the particles into which matter was divided in the beginning, nor in their motion. From this it follows that this [5] hypothesis is also the easiest to know. This is also evident from the fact that, according to this hypothesis, nothing is supposed to have been in matter except what becomes known by itself to anyone from the concept of matter alone, viz. divisibility and local motion.

Moreover, we shall try to show that, from this hypothesis, everything [10] observed in nature can really be deduced, to the extent that such a deduction is possible. We shall adopt the following order. First, we shall deduce the fluidity of the Heavens from it, and explain how this is a cause of light. Next we shall proceed to the nature of the Sun, and at the same time, to those things observed in the fixed Stars. Afterwards, we shall speak of the Comets, and finally, of the Planets [15] and their Phenomena.

DEFINITIONS

D1: By Ecliptic we understand that part of the vortex which, when it rotates around its axis, describes the greatest circle.

D2: By Poles we understand the parts of the vortex which are most [20] remote from the ecliptic, or which describe the smallest circles.

D3: By Striving for motion we do not understand any thought, but only that a part of matter is so placed and stirred to motion, that it really would go somewhere if it were not prevented by any cause.9

[25] D4: By Angle we understand whatever projects beyond a spherical shape in any body.10

AXIOMS

A1: Several spheres joined together cannot occupy a continuous space.

[30] A2: A portion of matter divided into parts which have angles requires [I/230] more space if its parts move around their own centers than if all of its parts are at rest and all their sides touch one another immediately.

A3: The smaller a part of matter is, the more easily it is divided by [5] the same force.11

A4: The parts of matter that are in motion in the same direction, and do not depart from one another by their motion, are not actually divided.12

[10] P1: The parts into which matter was first divided were not round, but had angles.13

Dem.: The whole of matter was divided from the beginning into equal and similar parts (by the Postulate). Therefore (by A1 and IIP2) [15] they were not round, and so (by D4) had angles, q.e.d.

P2: The force which brought it about that the particles of matter would move around their own centers, brought it about at the same time that the angles of [20] the particles would be worn away by their meeting one another.

Dem.: The whole of matter was divided in the beginning into parts which were equal (by the Postulate) and had angles (by P1). Therefore if, as soon as they began to move around their centers, their angles [25] had not been worn away, then necessarily (by A2) the whole of matter would have had to occupy more space than when it was at rest. But this is absurd (by IIP4); therefore their angles were worn away as soon as they began to move, q.e.d.

The rest is lacking.

[I/233] Appendix
Containing Metaphysical Thoughts
Part I

[5] IN WHICH are briefly explained the chief things that commonly occur in the general part of Metaphysics, concerning Being and its Affections.

[B: The end and purpose of this Part is to show that the common [10] Logic and Philosophy serve only to train and strengthen the memory, so that we rightly remember the things which are presented to us, through the senses, randomly and without order or connection, and by which we can be affected only through the senses; but these disciplines do not serve to train the intellect.]

CHAPTER I
[15] OF REAL BEINGS, FICTITIOUS BEINGS, AND BEINGS OF REASON

I shall say nothing concerning either the definition of this Science or the things it is concerned with; my intention here is only to explain the more obscure things which are commonly treated by Writers on Metaphysics.

The definition of Being

[20] Let us begin, therefore, with Being, by which I understand Whatever, when it is clearly and distinctly perceived, we find to exist necessarily, or at least to be able to exist.

Chimaeras, Fictitious Beings, and Beings of reason are not beings

From this definition, or if you prefer, description, it follows that Chimaeras, Fictitious Beings, and Beings of reason can not in any way be [25] classed as beings. For a Chimaera,a of its own nature, cannot exist. But a Fictitious Being cannot be clearly and distinctly perceived, because in that case a man, from his sheer freedom alone, knowingly and intentionally (and not, as in the case of the false, unknowingly) connects what he wishes to connect and disjoins what he wishes to disjoin. [30] Finally, a Being of reason is nothing but a mode of thinking, which helps us to more easily retain, explain, and imagine the things we have understood. Note that by a mode of thinking we understand, as we have already explained in IP15S, all affections of thought, such as [35] intellect, joy, imagination, etc.

[I/234] By what modes of thinking we retain things

That there are certain modes of thinking which help us to retain things more firmly and easily, and when we wish, to recall them to mind or keep them present to the mind, is sufficiently established for those who use that well-known rule of Memory, by which to retain [5] something very new and imprint it on the memory, we recall something else familiar to us, which agrees with it, either in name or in reality. Similarly, the Philosophers have reduced all natural things to certain classes, to which they recur when anything new presents itself [10] to them. These they call genus, species, etc.

By what modes of thinking we explain things

We also have modes of thinking which serve to explain a thing by determining it through comparison to another. The modes of thinking by which we do this are called time, number, and measure, and perhaps [15] there are other besides. Of these, time serves to explain duration, number discrete quantity, and measure continuous quantity.

By what modes of thinking we imagine things

Finally, since we are accustomed to depict in our fantasy also images of whatever we understand, it happens that we imagine nonentities [20] positively, as beings. For the mind, considered in itself, since it is a thinking thing, has no greater power of affirming than of denying. But as imagining is nothing but being aware of the traces found in the brain from the motion of the spirits aroused in the senses by objects, [25] such an awareness can only be a confused affirmation.1 Hence it happens that we imagine as if they were beings all those modes which the mind uses for negating, such as blindness, extremity or limit, term, darkness, etc.

Why beings of reason are not Ideas of things and are nevertheless taken to be ideas

So it is evident that these modes of thinking are not ideas of things, and can not in any way be classed as ideas. So they also have no object [30] that exists necessarily, or can exist. Moreover, the reason why these modes of thinking are taken for ideas of things is that they arise from the ideas of real beings so immediately that they are quite easily confused with them by those who do not pay very close attention. So [I/235] these people also give names to them, as if to signify beings existing outside our mind, which Beings, or rather Nonbeings, they have called beings of reason.

Being is badly divided into real being and being of reason

From this it is easy to see how improper is the division of being [5] into real being and being of reason.2 For they divide being into being and nonbeing, or into being and mode of thinking. Nevertheless, I do not wonder that Philosophers preoccupied with words, or grammar, should fall into such errors. For they judge the things from the words, not the words from the things.

[10] In what sense Beings of reason can be called a mere nothing, and in what sense they can be called real Beings

Nor do they speak less improperly who say that a being of reason is not a mere nothing.3 For if anyone looks outside the intellect for what is signified by those words, he will find it to be a mere nothing. But if he means the modes of thinking themselves, they are indeed real beings. For when I ask, what is a species, I seek nothing but the [15] nature of that mode of thinking, which is really a being and distinguished from another mode of thinking.

Still, these modes of thinking cannot be called ideas, nor can they be said to be true or false, just as love cannot be called true or false, but [only] good or bad. So when Plato said that man is a featherless [20] biped, he erred no more than those who said that man is a rational animal. For Plato was no less aware than anyone else that man is a rational animal. But he referred man to a certain class so that, when he wished to think about man, he would immediately fall into the [25] thought of man by recalling that class, which he could easily remember. Indeed Aristotle erred very seriously if he thought that he had adequately explained the human essence by that definition of his. Whether, indeed, Plato did well, one can only ask. But this is not the place for these matters.

[30] In the investigation of Things real Beings must not be confounded with beings of reason

From all that has been said above, it is clear that there is no agreement between a real being and the objects of a being of reason. From this also it is easy to see how carefully we should be on guard in the investigation of things, lest we confound real beings with beings of reason. For it is one thing to inquire into the nature of things, and another to inquire into the modes by which things are perceived by [I/236] us. Indeed, if these things are confounded, we shall be able to understand neither the modes of perceiving, nor nature itself. Moreover, and this is most important, we shall, on that account, fall into great [5] errors, as has happened to many before us.

How the being of reason is distinguished from the fictitious being

It ought also to be noted that many confound beings of reason with fictitious beings.4 For they think that a fictitious being is also a being of reason because it has no existence outside the mind. But if one attends correctly to the definitions just given of beings of reason and [10] fictitious beings, he will discover a great difference between them, both with respect to the cause, and also with respect to their nature, without regard to the cause. For we said that a fictitious being is nothing but two terms connected by a sheer act of the will alone, without any guidance from reason. So a fictitious being can be true [15] by chance. But a being of reason does not depend on the will alone, nor does it consist of any terms connected with one another, as is sufficiently obvious from the definition.

If anyone asks, therefore, whether a fictitious being is a real being or a being of reason, we need only to go back and repeat what we have already said, that being is badly divided into real being and being [20] of reason, and that therefore the question is ill-founded. For it is supposed that all being is divided into real being and being of reason.

The division of being

But let us return to our proposition, from which we seem to have strayed somewhat. From the definition of being already given (or if [25] you prefer, from the description), it is easy to see that being should be divided into being which exists necessarily by its own nature, or whose essence involves existence, and being whose essence involves only possible existence. This last is divided into Substance and Mode, whose definitions are given in the Principles of Philosophy I, 51, 52, and [30] 56. So it is not necessary to repeat them here.

I only wish it to be noted, concerning this division, that we say expressly that being is divided into Substance and Mode, and not into Substance and Accident. For an Accident is nothing but a mode of thinking, inasmuch as it denotes what is only a respect. E.g., when I [I/237] say that the triangle is moved, the motion is not a mode of the triangle, but of the body which is moved. Hence the motion is called an accident with respect to the triangle. But with respect to the body, it is called a real being, or mode. For the motion cannot be conceived without [5] the body, though it can without the triangle.5

So that you may understand better what has already been said, and what will follow, we shall try to explain what should be understood by the being of essence, the being of existence, the being of idea, and the being of power. We are moved to do this by the ignorance of certain people [10] who recognize no distinction between essence and existence, or who, if they do recognize such a distinction, confuse the being of essence with the being of idea or the being of power. We shall explain this matter as distinctly as we can in what follows, both to satisfy them, and for its own sake.

CHAPTER II
[15] WHAT ARE THE BEING OF ESSENCE, THE BEING OF EXISTENCE, THE BEING OF IDEA AND THE BEING OF POWER

To perceive clearly what should be understood by these four, it is necessary only to consider what we have already said about uncreated [20] substance, or God:

That creatures are in God eminently

(1) That God contains eminently what is found formally in created things, i.e., that God has attributes in which all created things are contained in a more eminent way. See IA8 and P12C1. E.g., we conceive [25] extension clearly without any existence, and therefore, since it has, of itself, no power to exist, we have demonstrated that it was created by God (IP21). And since there must be at least as much perfection in the cause as there is in the effect, it follows that all the perfections of extension are in God. But because we saw afterward [30] that an extended thing, by its very nature, is divisible, i.e., contains an imperfection, we could not attribute extension to God (IP 16). So [I/238] we were constrained to allow that there is some attribute in God which contains all the perfections of matter in a more excellent way (IP9S) and can take the place of matter.

(2) That God understands himself and all other things, i.e., that he [5] also has all things objectively in himself (IP9).

(3) That God is the cause of all things, and that he acts from absolute freedom of the will.

What are the being of essence, of existence, of idea and of power6

From this, one may see clearly what should be understood by those [10] four. For first, being of Essence is nothing but that manner in which created things are comprehended in the attributes of God. Being of Idea is spoken of insofar as all things are contained objectively in God’s idea. Being of Power is spoken of only with respect to God’s power, by which he was able to create all things not yet existing from the absolute [15] freedom of his will. Finally, being of Existence is the essence itself of things outside God, considered in itself. It is attributed to things after they have been created by God.

These four are only distinguished from one another in creatures

From this it is evident that these four are only distinguished from one another in created things, but not at all in God. For we do not conceive God to have been in another by his power, and his existence [20] and his intellect are not distinguished from his essence.

Reply to certain questions concerning essence

Hence we can easily reply to the questions that are usually raised concerning essence. These questions are as follows: whether essence is distinguished from existence? and if it is distinguished, whether it is anything different from the idea? and if it is something different [25] from an idea, whether it has any being outside the intellect? The last of these must surely be granted.

To the first question we reply by making a distinction: in God essence is not distinguished from existence, since his essence cannot be conceived without existence; but in other things it does differ from [30] and certainly can be conceived without existence. To the second we say that a thing that is conceived clearly and distinctly, or truly, outside the intellect is something different from the idea.

But again it is asked whether that being outside the intellect is by [I/239] itself or has been created by God. To this we reply that the formal essence neither is by itself nor has been created, for both these presuppose that the thing actually exists. Rather it depends on the divine essence alone, in which all things are contained. So in this sense we agree with those who say that the essences of things are eternal.

[5] Still, it could be asked how we understand the essences of things, when the nature of God is not yet understood. For these essences, as we have just said, depend on the nature of God alone. To this I say that it arises from the fact that the things have already been created. For if they had not been created, then I should concede fully that it would be impossible to understand the essences of things without an adequate knowledge of the nature of God—just as impossible as knowing [10] the nature of the coordinates of a Parabola prior to a knowledge of its nature (or even more so).

Why the author recurs in the definition of essence to the attributes of God

Next it is to be noted that, although the essences of nonexistent modes are comprehended in their substances, and their being of essence [15] is in their substances, nevertheless we wished to recur to God in order to explain generally the essence of modes and of substances, and also because the essence of modes has only been in their substances after the creation of the substances and we were seeking the eternal being of essences.

[20] Why he has not recounted the definitions of others

I do not think it worthwhile to refute here those Authors who think differently than we do, nor to examine their definitions or descriptions of essence and existence. For in this way we should render a clear [25] thing more obscure. Since we can give no definition of anything without at the same time explaining its essence, what do we understand more clearly than what essence is, and what existence is?

How the distinction between essence and existence is easily learned

Finally, if any Philosopher still doubts whether essence is distinguished from existence in created things, he need not labor greatly over definitions of essence and existence to remove that doubt. For if [30] he will only go to some sculptor or woodcarver, they will show him how they conceive in a certain order a statue not yet existing, and after having made it, they will present the existing statue to him.

[I/240] CHAPTER III
CONCERNING WHAT IS NECESSARY, IMPOSSIBLE, POSSIBLE, AND CONTINGENT

What is to be understood here by affections

Having explained in this way the nature of being, insofar as it is being, we pass to the explanation of some of its affections. It should [5] be noted, that by affections we here understand what Descartes has elsewhere called attributes (Principles I, 52). For being, insofar as it is being, does not affect us by itself alone, as substance. It must, therefore, be explained by some attribute, from which, nevertheless, it is distinguished only by a distinction of reason. So I cannot sufficiently [10] admire the very subtle cleverness of those who have sought—not without great harm to the truth—for a middle ground between being and nothing.7 But I shall not stay to refute their error, since they themselves vanish entirely in their empty subtlety when they struggle to give definitions of such affections.

[15] The definition of affections

Let us, therefore, attend to our own business. We say that affections of being are certain attributes, under which we understand the essence or existence of each thing, [the attributes,] nevertheless, being distinguished from [being] only by reason. I shall try here to explain certain things concerning these attributes (for I do not undertake to treat them all), and also [20] to distinguish them from denominations, which are affections of no being. First I shall treat of what is necessary, and what is impossible.

In how many ways a thing is said to be necessary, and impossible

A thing is said to be necessary or impossible in two ways: either in respect to its essence or in respect to its cause.8 We know that God exists necessarily in respect to his essence, for his essence cannot be [25] conceived without existence. And it is impossible that a chimaera exist in respect to its essence, which involves a contradiction.

[Other] things—e.g., material ones—are called either impossible or necessary in respect to their cause. For if we consider only their essence, we can conceive it clearly and distinctly without existence. [30] Therefore, they can never exist by the power and necessity of their essence, but only by the power of their cause, God, the creator of all things. And so, if it is in the divine decree that some thing exists, it [I/241] will necessarily exist; but if not, it will be impossible that it should exist. For it is evident in itself that if a thing has neither an internal nor an external cause for existing, it is impossible that it should exist. Nevertheless, such a thing is assumed in this second hypothesis:9 one [5] that could exist without either the power of its own essence (which is what I understand by an internal cause), or the power of the divine decree (the only external cause of all things). It follows that things of the sort described by us in the second hypothesis cannot exist.

Chimaeras properly called verbal beings

First, it should be noted that we may properly call a Chimaera a [10] verbal being because it is neither in the intellect nor in the imagination. For it cannot be expressed except in words. E.g., we can, indeed, express a square Circle in words, but we cannot imagine it in any way, much less understand it. So a Chimaera is nothing but a word, [15] and impossibility cannot be numbered among the affections of being, for it is only a negation.

Created things depend on God both for essence and existence

Second, it should be noted that not only the existence of created things, but also their essence and nature depend on the decree of God alone, as we shall demonstrate very clearly below in the second part.10 [20] From this it clearly follows that created things have no necessity of themselves. For they have no essence of themselves, nor do they exist by themselves.

The necessity which is in created things from their cause is either of essence or of existence, but these two are not distinguished in God

Finally, it should be noted that necessity, as it is in created things by the power of their cause, is said either in respect to their essence [25] or in respect to their existence. For these two are distinguished in created things. The former depends on the eternal laws of nature, the latter on the series and order of causes. But in God, whose essence is not distinguished from his existence, necessity of essence is also not distinguished from necessity of existence.

[30] It follows from this that if we were to conceive the whole order of nature, we should discover that many things whose nature we perceive clearly and distinctly, that is, whose essence is necessarily such, can not in any way exist. For we should find the existence of such things in nature to be just as impossible as we now know the passage of a [I/242] large elephant through the eye of a needle to be, although we perceive the nature of each of them clearly. So the existence of those things would be only a chimaera, which we could neither imagine nor understand.

[5] Possible and contingent are not affections of things

Let this be enough about necessity and impossibility. But it seems desirable to add a few words about the possible and the contingent; for these are taken by some to be affections of things. Nevertheless, they are nothing but a defect in our understanding, as I shall show clearly, [10] after I have explained what is to be understood by these two.

What possibility and contingency are

A thing is called possible, then, when we understand its efficient cause, but do not know whether the cause is determined. So we can regard it as possible, but neither as necessary nor as impossible. If, however, we [15] attend to the essence of the thing alone, and not to its cause, we shall call it contingent. That is, we shall consider it as midway between God and a chimaera, so to speak, because we find in it, on the part of its essence, neither any necessity of existing (as we do in the divine essence) [20] nor any impossibility or inconsistency (as we do in a chimaera).

And if anyone wishes to call contingent what I call possible, or possible what I call contingent, I shall not contend with him. For I am not accustomed to dispute about words. It will suffice if he grants us that these two are nothing but a defect in our perception, and not anything [25] real.

That possibility and contingency are only a defect of our understanding

Moreover, if anyone wishes to deny this, his error can be demonstrated to him with no difficulty. For if he attends to nature and how it depends on God, he will find that there is nothing contingent in things, that is, nothing which, on the part of the thing, can either [30] exist or not exist, or as is commonly said, be a real contingent.

This is readily apparent from what we have taught (IA10), viz. that as much power is required for creating a thing as for preserving it. So, no created thing does anything by its own power, just as no created [I/243] thing has begun to exist by its own power. From this it follows that nothing happens except by the power of the cause who creates all things, namely God, who produces all things at each moment by his concurrence.

Moreover, since nothing happens except by the divine power alone, it is easy to see that whatever happens, happens by the power of God’s [5] decree and his will. But since in God there is no inconstancy or change (IP18 and P20C), he must have decreed from eternity that he would produce those things which he now produces. And since nothing is more necessary in its existence than what God has decreed would exist, it follows that a necessity of existing has been in all created [10] things from eternity. Nor can we say that those things are contingent because God could have decreed otherwise. For since in eternity there is no when, nor before, nor after, nor any other affection of time, it follows that God never existed before those decrees so that he could decree otherwise.

[15] [B: In order that this proof may properly be understood, we must note what is said in the second part of this appendix concerning the will of God, namely, that God’s will or constant decree is only understood when we conceive the thing clearly and distinctly. For the essence of the thing, considered in itself, is nothing other than God’s decree, or his determinate will. But we also say that the necessity of really existing is not distinct from the necessity of essence (II, ix). That is, when we say that God has decided that the triangle shall exist, we are saying nothing but that God has so arranged the order [20] of nature and of causes that the triangle shall necessarily exist at such a time. So if we understood the order of causes as it has been established by God, we should find that the triangle must really exist at such a time, with the same necessity as we now find, when we attend to its nature, that its three angles are equal to two right angles.]

[25] The reconciliation of the freedom of our will and of God’s predestination surpasses the human understanding

As for the freedom of the human will (which we have said is free, IP15S), that also is preserved by the concurrence of God, nor does any man will or do anything but what God has decreed from eternity that he would will and do. How this can happen and human freedom [30] still be preserved is beyond our grasp.

But we should not reject what we perceive clearly because we are ignorant of something. For if we attend to our nature, we understand clearly and distinctly that we are free in our actions and that we deliberate about many things, simply from the fact that we will [to do [35] so]. Also if we attend to the nature of God, we perceive clearly and distinctly, as we have just shown, that all things depend on him and that nothing exists whose existence has not been decreed by God from [I/244] eternity. But how the human will is produced by God at each moment in such a way that it remains free we do not know. For there are many things exceeding our grasp which we nevertheless know to have been [5] done by God—e.g., there is that real division of matter into indefinite particles, which we have already demonstrated quite clearly (IIP11), though we do not know how that division occurs.

Note that we here take it as something known that these two notions, possible and contingent, signify only a defect in our knowledge [10] about a thing’s existence.

CHAPTER IV
OF DURATION AND TIME

What eternity is; What duration is

From our earlier division of being into being whose essence involves existence and being whose essence involves only possible existence, [15] there arises the distinction between eternity and duration. Of eternity we shall speak more fully later. Here we say only that it is an attribute under which we conceive the infinite existence of God. But duration is an attribute under which we conceive the existence of created things insofar as they [20] persevere in their actuality. From this it clearly follows that duration is only distinguished by reason from the whole existence of a thing. For as you take duration away from the thing, you take away just as much of its existence.11

What time is

But to determine this duration, we compare it with the duration of [25] other things which have a certain and determinate motion. This comparison is called time. Time, therefore, is not an affection of things, but only a mere mode of thinking, or, as we have already said, a being of reason. For it is a mode of thinking that serves to explain duration. We should also note here—since it will be of use later, when we speak [30] of eternity—that duration is conceived as being greater or lesser, and as composed of parts, and finally, that it is only an attribute of existence, and not of essence.

[I/245] CHAPTER V
OF OPPOSITION, ORDER, ETC.

What Opposition, Order, Agreement, Difference, Subject, Adjunct, etc. are

From the fact that we compare things with one another certain notions arise which nevertheless are nothing outside the things themselves [5] but modes of thinking. This is clear from the fact that if we wish to consider them as things posited outside of thought [B: outside the intellect], we immediately render confused the clear concept which we otherwise have of them. These are such notions as Opposition, Order, Agreement, Difference, Subject, Adjunct, and whatever others are like [10] these. We perceive them clearly enough, I say, insofar as we conceive them not as something different from the essences of the things opposed, ordered, etc., but only as modes of thinking by which we retain or imagine the things themselves more easily. So I do not judge [15] it necessary to speak more fully about them. Instead I pass to the terms usually called transcendental.

CHAPTER VI
OF THE ONE, TRUE, AND GOOD

These terms are taken by nearly all Metaphysicians to be the most [20] general Affections of Being; for they say that every being is one, true and good, even though no one thinks of these things. But we shall see what should be understood concerning them when we have examined each of these terms separately.

What unity is

So let us begin with the first, viz. One. They say that this term [25] signifies something real outside the intellect. But what this adds to being they cannot explain, which shows sufficiently that they confound beings of reason with real being; by doing this they render confused what they understand clearly. We say, however, that Unity is not in any way distinguished from the thing itself, or that it adds [30] nothing to the being, but is only a mode of thinking by which we [I/246] separate the thing from others which are like it or agree with it in some way.12

What multiplicity is; in what respect God can be called one, in what respect unique

To unity is opposed multiplicity, which, of course, also adds nothing [5] to things, is nothing but a mode of thinking, as we understand clearly and distinctly. I do not see what more remains to be said about a thing so clear. All that need be noted here is that God can be called one insofar as we separate him from other beings. But insofar as we conceive that there cannot be more than one of the same nature, he is [10] called unique. Indeed, if we wished to examine the matter more accurately, we could perhaps show that God is only very improperly called one and unique. But this does not matter greatly, or even at all, to those who care about things and not about words. So we shall leave this behind and pass on to the second topic, and at the same time we shall say what the false is.13

[15] What the true and the false are, both among ordinary people and among Philosophers

To perceive these two, the true and the false rightly, we shall begin with the meaning of the words, from which it will be plain that these are only extrinsic denominations of things and are not attributed to things except metaphorically. But since ordinary people first invent words, which afterwards are used by the Philosophers, it seems desirable [20] for one seeking the original meaning of a term to ask what it first denoted among ordinary people—particularly where we lack other causes that could be used to investigate that [meaning], causes drawn from the nature of language.

The first meaning of true and false seems to have had its origin in [25] stories: a story was called true when it was of a deed that had really happened, and false when it was of a deed that had never happened.

Afterwards the Philosophers used this meaning to denote the agreement of an idea with its object and conversely. So an idea is called true when it shows us the thing as it is in itself, and false when it [30] shows us the thing otherwise than it really is. For ideas are nothing but narratives, or mental histories of nature. But later this usage was transferred metaphorically to mute things, as when we call gold true or false, as if the gold which is presented to us were to tell something of itself that either was or was not in it.

[I/247] True not a transcendental term

So they are thoroughly deceived who judge true to be a transcendental term, or affection of being. For it can only be said improperly—or if you prefer, metaphorically—of the things themselves.

Truth and a true idea, how they differ

If you should ask what truth is beyond a true idea, ask also what [5] whiteness is beyond a white body. For they are related to each other in the same way.

The cause of the true and of the false, we have already dealt with previously. So nothing remains to be noted—even what we have said would not have been worth the trouble of noting, if writers had not [10] so entangled themselves in trifles of this kind that afterwards they have not been able to untangle themselves, finding difficulties where none exist.

What are the properties of truth? Certainty is not in things

The properties of truth, or of a true idea, are (1) that it is clear and distinct, and (2) that it removes all doubt, or in a word, that it is certain. Those who seek certainty in the things themselves are deceived [15] in the same way as when they seek truth in them. And although we say that the thing is uncertain, this is a figure of speech which takes the object for the idea. In the same way we call a thing doubtful, except perhaps that then we understand by uncertainty contingency, or a thing which inspires uncertainty or doubt in us. There [20] is no need to delay longer concerning these, so we shall proceed to the third term, and at the same time we shall explain what should be understood by its contrary.

Good and bad are only said in respect to something

No thing is said to be either good or evil considered alone, but only in respect to another [thing], to which it is advantageous in acquiring [25] what it loves, or the contrary.14 So each thing can be said at the same time to be both good and evil in different respects. E.g., the counsel given by Achitophel to Absalom is called good in Sacred Scripture; nevertheless it was very bad for David, at whose death it aimed.15

And indeed many other things are good, which are not good for all. [30] So salvation is good for men, but neither good nor evil for animals or plants, to which it has no relation. To be sure, God is called supremely good, because he acts to the advantage of all, preserving, by his concurrence, each one’s being, than which nothing is dearer. But [35] there is no absolute evil, as is evident through itself.

[I/248] Why some have maintained a Metaphysical good

However, those who eagerly seek some Metaphysical good, needing no qualification, labor under a false prejudice, for they confuse a distinction of reason with a real or modal distinction. They distinguish [5] between the thing itself and the striving that is in each thing to preserve its being, although they do not know what they understand by striving. For though the thing and its striving to preserve its being are distinguished by reason, or rather verbally (which deceives these people very greatly), they are not in any way really distinct.

[10] How the thing and the striving it has to persevere in its state are distinguished

To make this clear, let us take an example of a very simple thing. Motion has a force of persevering in its state; this force is really nothing other than the motion itself—that is, the nature of motion is such. For if I say that in this body, A, there is nothing but a certain quantity of motion, it follows clearly from this that, so long as I attend to A, I [15] must always say that it is moving. For if I were to say that it was losing, of itself, its force of moving, I should necessarily have to attribute to it something else, besides what we have supposed in the hypothesis, through which it was losing its nature.

If this reasoning seems somewhat obscure, let us concede that that [20] striving to move itself is something beyond the laws themselves and nature of motion. Since, therefore, you suppose this striving to be a metaphysical good, this striving will necessarily also have a striving to persevere in its being, and this again will have another, and so on to infinity.16 I know of nothing more absurd which could be feigned. But [25] the reason why some distinguish the thing’s striving from the thing itself is that they find in themselves a longing to preserve themselves and they imagine such a [longing] in each thing.

Whether God could be called good before creation of things

Nevertheless, it is asked whether God could be called good before he created things. It seems to follow from our definition that God had [30] no such attribute, because we say that a thing can be called neither good nor evil, if it is considered in itself alone. This will seem absurd to many; but I do not know why. For we ascribe to God many attributes of this sort, which could only be ascribed to him potentially [I/249] before things were created, as when he is called creator, judge, compassionate, etc.17 So such arguments should not cause us any delay.

How perfection may be ascribed in a certain respect, and how absolutely

Next, just as good and bad are said of a thing only in a certain respect, so also is perfection, except when we take perfection for the [5] very essence of the thing. In that sense we said previously that God has infinite perfection, that is, infinite essence or infinite being.

It is not my intention to add more to this. I think the rest of what pertains to the general part of Metaphysics is sufficiently known, and so not worth the trouble of pursuing further.

Part II of the Appendix Containing Metaphysical Thoughts

IN WHICH are briefly explained the chief things which commonly occur [15] in the special part of Metaphysics about God, his Attributes, and the human Mind.

[B: In this Chapter God’s existence is explained quite differently from the way in which men commonly understand it; for they confuse God’s existence with their own, so that they imagine God as being [20] somewhat like a Man and do not take note of the true idea of God which they have, or are completely ignorant of having it. As a result, they can neither prove God’s existence a priori, i.e., from his true definition, or essence, nor prove it a posteriori, from the idea of him, insofar as it is in us. Nor can they conceive God’s existence.

In this Chapter, therefore, we shall attempt to show as clearly as we [25] can that God’s existence differs entirely from the existence of created things.]

CHAPTER I
OF GOD’S ETERNITY

The division of substances

We have already pointed out that there is nothing in Nature but [30] substances and their modes. So it is not to be expected here that we should say anything about substantial forms and real accidents, for these things, and others of the same kind, are clearly absurd.

[I/250] We have divided substances into two chief kinds, extension and thought; thought we have divided into created, or the human Mind, and uncreated, or God. His existence we have demonstrated more than sufficiently, both a posteriori, from the idea which we have of [5] him, and a priori, or from his essence as the cause of his existence. But since we have treated certain of his attributes more briefly than the dignity of the argument requires, we have decided to return to them here, to explain them more fully, and at the same time to resolve some problems.

[10] That duration is not attributed to God

The chief attribute, which deserves consideration before all others, is God’s Eternity, by which we explain his duration. Or rather, so as not to ascribe any duration to God, we say that he is eternal. For as we have noted in Part I, duration is an affection of existence, and not [15] of the essence of things.1 But since God’s existence is of his essence, we can attribute no duration to him. Whoever attributes duration to God distinguishes his existence from his essence.

Nevertheless, there are those who ask whether God has not existed longer now than he had when he created Adam. It seems to be clear enough to them that he has and they hold that duration should in no [20] way be taken away from God.2

But they beg the question. For they suppose that God’s essence is distinguished from his existence and ask whether God, who has existed until Adam, shall not have existed for more time from the creation of Adam until us. So they ascribe to God a greater duration each [25] day and think of him as if he were created continuously by himself. If they did not distinguish God’s existence from his essence, they would not ascribe duration to him at all, since duration cannot in any way pertain to the essences of things. For no one will ever say that the essence of a circle or a triangle, insofar as it is an eternal truth, [30] has endured longer now than it had in the time of Adam.

Again, since duration is conceived as being greater or lesser, or as composed of parts, it follows clearly that no duration can be ascribed to God: for since his being is eternal, i.e., in it there can be nothing [I/251] which is before or after, we can never ascribe duration to him, without at the same time destroying the true concept which we have of God. I.e., by attributing duration to him, we divide into parts what is infinite by its own nature and can never be conceived except as infinite. [5] [B: We divide his existence into parts, or conceive it as divisible, when we attempt to explain it by duration. See I, iv.]

The reasons why Writers have attributed duration to God

The reason why these Writers have erred is threefold: first, because they have attempted to explain eternity without attending to God, as [10] if eternity could be understood without contemplation of the divine essence—or as if it were something beyond the divine essence; and this again has arisen because we are accustomed, on account of a defect of words, to ascribe eternity also to things whose essence is distinguished from their existence, as when we say that it does not involve [15] a contradiction for the world to have existed from eternity; also we attribute eternity to the essences of things so long as we conceive the things as not existing, for then we call them eternal; secondly, they have erred because they have ascribed duration to things only insofar as they judged them to be subject to continuous variation and not, as we do, insofar as their essence is distinguished from their existence; [20] thirdly, they have erred because they have distinguished God’s essence from his existence, just as they do in the case of created things.

These errors, I say, have provided them with the occasion for further error. For the first error resulted in their not understanding what eternity is, but rather considering it as if it were a species of duration. [25] The second, in their not being able to discover easily the difference between the duration of created things and the eternity of God. And the last, as we have said, in their ascribing duration to God, although duration is only an affection of existence and they have distinguished his existence from his essence.

[30] What is eternity?

In order that we may better understand what Eternity is, and how it cannot be conceived without the divine essence, we need to consider what we have already said before, viz. that created things, or all things except God, always exist only by the power, or essence, of God, and not by their own power. From this it follows that the present existence [I/252] of things is not the cause of their future existence, but only God’s immutability is. So we are compelled to say that when God has first created a thing, he will preserve it afterwards continuously, or will continue that same action of creating it.

[5] From this we conclude: (1) that the created thing can be said to enjoy existence, because existence is not of its essence; but God cannot be said to enjoy existence, for the existence of God is God himself, as is his essence also; from which it follows that created things enjoy duration, but that God does not in any way; (2) that all created things, [10] while they enjoy present duration and existence, altogether lack future duration and existence, because it must continually be attributed to them; but nothing similar can be said of their essence. But we cannot ascribe future existence to God, because existence is of his essence; for the same existence which he would have then ought even now to [15] be ascribed to him actually, or, to speak more properly, infinite actual existence pertains to God in the same way as infinite actual intellect pertains to him. And I call this infinite existence Eternity, which is to be attributed to God alone, and not to any created thing, even though its duration should be without beginning or end.

[20] So much for eternity. Of the necessity of God I say nothing. There is no need, since we have demonstrated his existence from his essence. Let us proceed then to his unity.

CHAPTER II
OF GOD’S UNITY

[25] We have often wondered at the worthless arguments by which Writers try to prove God’s Unity, such as, If one could create the world, others would be unnecessary, and If all things tend toward the same end, they are all produced by one maker, and similar arguments drawn from relations [30] or extrinsic denominations.3 Leaving all these to one side, we shall here put forward our own proof as clearly and briefly as we can.4

[I/253] That God is unique

Among the attributes of God we have numbered also supreme understanding, and we have added that he has all his perfection from himself and not from another. If now you say that there are many Gods, or supremely perfect beings, they will all have to understand, [5] in the highest degree. To satisfy that condition, it is not sufficient that each one should understand only himself; for since each one must understand all things, he will have to understand both himself and the rest. From this it would follow that the perfection of each one’s intellect would depend partly on himself and partly on another. Therefore, [10] there could not be any supremely perfect being, i.e., as we have just noted, any being that has all its perfection from itself and not from another. Nevertheless we have already demonstrated that God is a supremely perfect being and that he exists. From this we can now conclude that he is unique. For if there were more than one, it would [15] follow that a most perfect being has an imperfection, which is absurd. [B: But although this proof is completely convincing, nevertheless it does not explain God’s Unity; therefore I advise the Reader that by right we infer God’s Unity from the nature of his existence, which is [20] not distinguished from his essence, or which necessarily follows from his essence.] This will suffice on God’s Unity.

CHAPTER III
OF GOD’S IMMENSITY

How God is called infinite, how immense

We have explained previously that no being can be conceived as [25] finite and imperfect, that is, as participating in nothing, unless we first attend to the perfect and infinite being, i.e., to God. So only God is to be called absolutely infinite, insofar as we find that he really consists of infinite perfection. But he can also be called immense, or interminable, [30] insofar as we consider the fact that there is no being by which God’s perfection can be limited.

From this it follows that God’s Infinity, in spite of what the term suggests, is something most positive. For we call him infinite insofar [I/254] as we are attending to his essence, or supreme perfection. But Immensity is only ascribed to God in a certain respect. For it does not pertain to God insofar as he is considered absolutely, as a most perfect being, but only insofar as he is considered as the first cause, which, even if [5] it were only most perfect in respect to secondary beings, would still be no less immense. For there would be no being, and consequently, no being could be conceived, more perfect than him, by which he could be limited or measured.a

What is commonly understood by the immensity of God

Nevertheless, usually when authors deal with God’s Immensity, they [10] seem to ascribe quantity to him.5 For from this attribute they wish to conclude that God must necessarily be present everywhere, as if they thought that if there were some place which God was not in, then his quantity would be limited.

This is even clearer from the other argument they bring forward to [15] show that God is infinite, or immense (for they confuse these two), and also that he is everywhere. If God, they say, is pure act, as indeed he is, he must be everywhere and infinite. For if he were not everywhere, either he would not be able to be wherever he wishes to be, or he would necessarily—note this—have to move. From this it is clear that [20] they ascribe Immensity to God insofar as they regard him as having a certain quantity; for they seek to argue for God’s Immensity from the properties of extension, which is most absurd.

A proof that God is everywhere

If you should now ask how we shall prove that God is everywhere, [25] I reply that we have already demonstrated this more than sufficiently when we showed that nothing can exist for even a moment that is not produced by God at each moment.6

God’s omnipresence cannot be explained

Now, of course, for God’s omnipresence or presence in each thing to be properly understood, it would be necessary for us to know fully the [30] inmost nature of the divine will, by which he has created things and continually produces them. Since this is beyond man’s grasp, it is impossible to explain how God is everywhere.

[B: Here we should note that whenever ordinary people say that God is everywhere they introduce Him as a spectator at a Play. From this what we say at the end of this Chapter is evident, viz. that People [35] usually confuse the Divine nature with Human nature.]

[I/255] That God’s Immensity is said by some to be threefold, but wrongly

Some claim that God’s Immensity is threefold: immensity of essence, of power, and of presence;7 but that is foolish, for they seem to distinguish between God’s essence and his power.

[5] That God’s power is not distinguished from his essence

But others have also asserted the same thing more openly, when they say that God is everywhere through his power, but not through his essence8—as if the power of God were distinguished from all of his attributes, or his infinite essence. Nevertheless it cannot be anything else. For if it were something else, it would be either some [10] creature or something accidental to the divine essence, which the divine essence could be conceived to lack. But both alternatives are absurd. For if it were a creature, it would require the power of God in order to be conserved, and so there would be an infinite regress. And if it were something accidental, God would not be a most simple being, contrary to what we have demonstrated above.9

[15] Nor is his Omnipresence

Finally, by Immensity of presence they seem also to mean something beyond the essence of God, through which things have been created and are continually preserved. Such is the absurdity into which they have fallen, through confusing the divine intellect with the human and [20] frequently comparing his power with the power of kings.

CHAPTER IV
OF GOD’S IMMUTABILITY

What Change is; What Transformation is

By Change we understand here whatever variation there can be in a [25] subject while the very essence of the subject remains intact; commonly the term is taken in an even broader sense, signifying the corruption of things, not an absolute corruption but one which at the same time includes the generation following corruption, as when we say that peat is changed into ashes, or men into beasts. But Philosophers use a [30] different term to denote this, viz. Transformation. Here we are speaking only of that change in which there is no transformation of the subject, as when we say that Peter has changed his color, or his ways.

[I/256] Transformation cannot be ascribed to God

We must see now whether such changes can be ascribed to God; for there is no need to say anything about transformation, after we have explained that God exists necessarily—i.e., that God could not cease to be, or be transformed into another God. For then he would cease [5] to exist, and at the same time there could be many gods, both of which we have shown to be absurd.

What are the causes of Change

In order to understand more distinctly the things which remain to be said here, we need to consider that every change proceeds either from external causes (with the subject either willing or unwilling), or [10] from an internal cause and the choice of the subject himself. E.g., that a man becomes darker, becomes ill, grows, and the like all proceed from external causes, the two former against the subject’s will, the last in accordance with it; but that he wills to walk,10 to display anger, etc., these result from internal causes.

[15] That God is not changed by another

The first sort of change, which proceeds from external causes, can not be ascribed to God, since he is the sole cause of all things and is acted on by no one. Add to this the fact that no created thing has in itself any power of existing, much less any power of producing any effect outside itself or on its cause. And although it is often found in [20] Holy Scripture that God has been angry or sad on account of men’s sins, in such places the effect is taken for the cause—just as we say that the Sun in summer is stronger and higher than in winter, although it has not changed its position or renewed its strength. And [25] that such things are often taught in Holy Scripture may be seen in Isaiah—for he says (59:2), when he is reproaching the people: ‘Your iniquities separate you from your God.’

Nor by himself

Let us, therefore, go on to ask whether there is any change in God from God himself. We do not concede that there is such a change in [30] God—indeed, we deny it completely. For every change which depends on the will occurs in order that its subject may change into a better state. But this cannot occur in a most perfect being. Also there is no change except for the sake of avoiding some disadvantage or [I/257] acquiring some good which is lacking, neither of which can occur in God. So we conclude that God is an immutable being.

[B: Note that this can be much clearer if we consider the nature of God’s will and his decrees. For as I shall show in what follows, God’s will, through which he has created things, is not distinct from his intellect, through which he understands them. So to say that God [5] understands that the three angles of a triangle are equal to two right angles is the same as saying that God has willed or decreed that the three angles of a triangle should equal two right angles. For this reason, it will be as impossible for us to conceive that God can change his decrees as it is for us to think that the three angles of a triangle are not equal to two right angles. Moreover, this proposition—that there can be no change in God—can also be proven in other ways; but [10] because we are trying to be brief, we prefer not to pursue this further.]

Note that I have here deliberately omitted the common divisions of change, although in a way we have encompassed them too. For there was no need to show of each one that God is free of it, since we have [15] demonstrated (IP 16) that God is incorporeal and those common divisions include only changes of matter.

CHAPTER V
OF GOD’S SIMPLICITY

The threefold Distinction of Things: Real, Modal, of Reason

We proceed to the Simplicity of God. In order to understand this [20] attribute of God rightly, we need to recall what Descartes has taught (Principles I, 48, 49), viz. that there is nothing in nature but substances and their modes. From this a threefold distinction of things is deduced (I, 60-62), viz. real, modal, and of reason.

That distinction is called real by which two substances are distinguished [25] from one another, whether they have the same or different attributes, e.g., thought, and extension, or the parts of matter. This is known from the fact that each can be conceived, and consequently, can exist, without the aid of the other.

The modal distinction is shown to be twofold: there is that between [30] a mode of a substance and the substance itself, and that between two modes of one and the same substance. We know the latter from the fact that, although either mode may be conceived without the aid of the other, nevertheless neither may be conceived without the aid of the substance whose modes they are. The former is known from the fact that, although the substance can be conceived without its mode, [35] nevertheless, the mode cannot be conceived without the substance.

[I/258] Finally, that distinction is said to be of reason which exists between substance and its attribute, as when duration is distinguished from extension. And this is also known from the fact that such a substance cannot be understood without that attribute.

[5] Whence all composition arises, how many kinds there are

From these three all composition arises. The first sort of composition is that which comes from two or more substances which have the same attribute (e.g., all composition which arises from two or more bodies) or which have different attributes (e.g., man). The second comes from the union of different modes. The third, finally, does not [10] occur, but is only conceived by the reason as if it occurred, so that the thing may be the more easily understood. Whatever is not composed in these first two ways should be called simple.

That God is a most simple Being

It must be shown, therefore, that God is not something composite, from which we shall be able to conclude that he is a most simple [15] being. This we shall accomplish easily. For since it is clear through itself that component parts are prior in nature at least to the thing composed, those substances by whose coalition and union God is composed will necessarily be prior in nature to God himself, and each one will be able to be conceived through itself, although it is not attributed [20] to God. Then, since they must be really distinguished from one another, each one will also necessarily be able to exist through itself without the aid of the others; and so, as we have just said, there could be as many gods as there are substances from which God would be supposed to be composed. For since each one is able to exist through [25] itself, it will have to exist of itself, and therefore will also have the power of giving itself all the perfections which we have shown to be in God (as we have already explained more fully in IP7, where we have demonstrated the existence of God). But since nothing more absurd than this can be said, we conclude that God is not composed of a coalition and union of substances.11

[30] That there is also in God no composition from different modes is sufficiently demonstrated from the fact that there are no modes in God. For modes arise from the alteration of substance (Principles I, 56).

Finally, if anyone wishes to feign another manner of composition, from the essence of things and their existence, we will not contradict [I/259] him at all. But it should be remembered that we have already sufficiently shown that these two are not distinct in God.

That God’s Attributes are distinguished only by reason

And from this we can now clearly conclude that all the distinctions we make between the attributes of God are only distinctions of reason [5] —the attributes are not really distinguished from one another. Understand such distinctions of reason as I have just mentioned, which are recognized from the fact that such a substance cannot exist without that attribute. So we conclude that God is a most simple being. For the rest, we pay no attention to the hodgepodge of Peripatetic distinctions [10] but go on to God’s life.

CHAPTER VI
OF GOD’S LIFE

What the Philosophers commonly understand by life

In order that this attribute, the Life of God, may be rightly understood, it is necessary for us to explain generally what in each thing is [15] denoted by its life. First, we shall examine the opinion of the Peripatetics. By life they understand the persistence of the nutritive soul with heat (see Aristotle, De Respiratione, I, 8).12 And because they have feigned three souls, vegetative, sensitive, and intellective, which they ascribe [20] only to plants, the lower animals, and men, it follows, as they themselves confess, that all other things are without life.

But in the meantime they did not dare to say that minds and God lack life. Perhaps they were afraid that they would fall into its contrary, i.e., that if minds and God lacked life, they might be dead. So [25] Aristotle (Metaphysics XI, vii) gives another definition of life, which is peculiar to minds, viz. Life is the actuality of the intellect.13 In this sense he attributes life to God, who understands and is pure act.

We shall not take much trouble to refute these doctrines. We have already proven sufficiently that those three souls they attribute to plants, [30] the lower animals, and men are only fictions, for we have shown that there is nothing in matter but mechanical constructions and operations. As far as God’s life is concerned, I do not know why [Aristotle] [I/260] should call it an action of the intellect more than an action of the will and of similar things. But because I expect no reply from him, I pass to the explanation promised, i.e., what life is.

[5] To what things life can be attributed

Although this term is often taken in an extended sense, to signify the conduct of some person, we shall explain briefly only what is denoted by it philosophically. Note that if life ought to be attributed to corporeal things also, nothing will be without life. But if it should be attributed only to those things in which a soul is united to a body, [10] then it will have to be ascribed only to men, and perhaps also to the lower animals, but not to minds or to God. But since the term life is commonly used more widely than this, there is no doubt but what it should also be ascribed to corporeal things not united to minds and to minds separated from the body.

[15] What life is, and what it is in God

So we understand by life the force through which things persevere in their being. And because that force is different from the things themselves,14 we say properly that the things themselves have life. But the power by which God perseveres in his being is nothing but his essence. So they speak best who call God life. Some Theologians think [20] it was for this reason, i.e., that God is life, and is not distinguished from life, that the Jews, when they swore, said chay yëhowah, living Jehovah, but not chey yëhowah, the life of Jehovah, as Joseph, when he swore by the life of the Pharaoh, said chey phar’oh.15

CHAPTER VII
[25] OF GOD’S INTELLECT

[B: From what is proven in these next three chapters, in which we treat of God’s intellect, will and power, it follows very clearly that the essences of things, and the necessity of their really existing from a [30] given cause, are nothing but God’s determinate will, or decree. Therefore God’s will is clearest to us when we conceive things clearly and [I/261] distinctly. So it is ridiculous for the Philosophers to take refuge in the will of God whenever they are ignorant of the causes of things. We often see this happen: for example, when they say that the things [5] whose causes are unknown to them have happened solely by God’s pleasure and from his absolute decree.

Ordinary people too have found no stronger proof of God’s providence and rule than that based on the ignorance of causes. This shows [10] clearly that they have no knowledge at all of the nature of God’s will, and that they have attributed a human will to him, i.e., a will really distinct from the intellect. I think this misconception has been the sole cause of superstition, and perhaps of much knavery.]

That God is Omniscient

Among the attributes of God we have previously numbered Omniscience, [15] which is quite certainly ascribable to God. For knowledge involves perfection, and God, as the supremely perfect being, must lack no perfection. So we shall have to attribute to God knowledge in the highest degree, i.e., such as presupposes, or supposes, no ignorance, or privation of knowledge. For then there would be an imperfection [20] in the attribute itself, or in God. From this it follows that God has never had a potential intellect, nor does he conclude anything by reasoning.

The objects of God’s knowledge not things outside God

It also follows from God’s perfection that his ideas are not determined, as ours are, by objects placed outside God. On the contrary, [25] the things which have been created outside God by God are determined by God’s intellect.b For otherwise the objects [of his knowledge] would have their own nature and essence through themselves, and would be prior, at least in nature, to the divine intellect. But that is absurd.

Because some people have not taken sufficient note of this, they [30] have fallen into very great errors, and have maintained that there is matter outside God, coeternal with him, existing of itself. According to some, God, in understanding, only reduces this matter to order; according to others, he impresses forms on it. And then some have maintained that things are, of their own nature, either necessary, or [I/262] impossible, or contingent, and that God, therefore, also knows them as contingent and is completely ignorant of whether they exist or not. Finally, others have said that God knows contingents from their circumstances, perhaps because he has had long experience of them. In addition to these, I could mention here still other errors of this kind, [5] if I did not judge it superfluous. From what has been said, their falsity should be evident without further discussion.

But God himself

Let us return then to our thesis, viz. that outside God there is no object of his knowledge, but that he himself is the object of his knowledge, or rather is his own knowledge. Those who think that the world [10] is also the object of God’s knowledge are far less discerning than those who would have a building, made by some distinguished Architect, be considered the object of his knowledge. For the builder is forced to seek suitable material outside himself, but God sought no matter outside himself. Both the essence and the existence of things have been [15] made from his intellect or will.

How God knows sins, and beings of reason, etc.

The question now arises whether God knows evils, or sins, and beings of reason, and the like. We reply that God must understand those things of which he is the cause, particularly since they could not [20] even exist for a moment without his concurrence. Therefore, since evils and sins are nothing in things, but are only in the human mind, which compares things with one another, it follows that God does not know them outside human minds. We have said that beings of reason are modes of thinking, and in this way must be understood by God, [25] i.e., insofar as we perceive that he preserves and produces the human mind, in whatever way it is constituted. But we do not mean that God has such modes of thinking in himself in order to retain more easily the things he understands. And if only the little we have said here is rightly attended to, it will not be possible to propose any difficulty concerning God’s intellect which cannot be very easily resolved.

[30] How he knows singular things and universals

But in the meantime, we must not pass over the error of those writers who say that God knows only eternal things, such as the angels, the heavens, etc., which they have feigned to be, by their nature, unsusceptible either to generation or to corruption, but that he knows nothing of this world, except species, inasmuch as they also are not [I/263] subject to generation or corruption. These writers seem determined to go astray and to contrive the most absurd fantasies. For what is more absurd than to deprive God of the knowledge of singular things, which cannot exist even for a moment without God’s concurrence. Then [5] they maintain that God is ignorant of the things that really exist, but fictitiously ascribe to him a knowledge of universals, which neither exist nor have any essence beyond that of singular things. We, on the contrary, attribute a knowledge of singular things to God, and deny him a knowledge of universals, except insofar as he understands human minds.

[10] In God there is only one simple idea

Finally, before we put an end to this argument, we must deal satisfactorily with the question whether there is more than one idea in God, or only one, absolutely simple idea. To this I reply that the idea of God in virtue of which he is called omniscient is unique and absolutely [15] simple.16 For really, God is called omniscient only because he has the idea of himself, which idea or knowledge has always existed with God. For it is nothing but his essence, nor could it exist in any other way.

What God’s knowledge concerning created things is

But God’s knowledge concerning created things cannot so properly be referred to God’s knowledge; for if God had willed it, created things [20] would have had another essence, which has no place in the knowledge God has concerning himself. Nevertheless, it may be asked whether what is (properly or improperly) called knowledge of created things is manifold or one.

But, we may reply, this question is like those which ask whether [25] God’s decrees and volitions are many or not, and whether God’s omnipresence, or the concurrence by which he preserves singular things, is the same in all things. And we have already said that we can have no distinct knowledge concerning these.

Nevertheless, we know most evidently that just as God’s concurrence, [30] if it is referred to his omnipotence, must be unique, although it is manifested variously in its effects, so also his volitions and decrees (for so it pleases us to call his knowledge of created things), considered in God, are not many,17 although they are expressed variously through created things, or rather, in created things.

[I/264] Finally, if we attend to the proportion of the whole of nature,18 we can consider it as one being, and consequently there will only be one idea of God, or decree concerning natura naturata.

CHAPTER VIII
[5] OF GOD’S WILL

That we do not know how God’s Essence, his intellect, by which he understands himself, and his will, by which he loves himself, are distinguished

God’s will, by which he wills to love himself, follows necessarily from his infinite intellect, by which he understands himself. But how are these three things—God’s essence, his intellect, by which he understands himself, and his will, by which he wills to love himself—[10] distinguished? We do not know. Not that we are ignorant of the term personality, which the Theologians commonly use to explain this matter. But though we are familiar with the term, we do not know its meaning, nor can we form any clear and distinct concept of it. Nevertheless, [15] we believe firmly that God will reveal this to his own, in the most blessed vision of God which is promised to the faithful.

God’s Will and Power, as far as externals are concerned, are not distinguished from his intellect

God’s Will and Power, as far as externals are concerned, are not distinguished from his intellect, as has already been well-established above. For we have shown that God decreed, not only that things [20] would exist, but also that they would exist with such a nature. That is, that their essence and their existence had to depend on the will and power of God. From which we perceive clearly and distinctly that God’s intellect, and his power and will, by which he has created, understood, and preserves, or loves, created things, are not distinguished [25] from one another in any way, except in regard to our thought.19

God is improperly said to hate things, and love others

But when we say that God hates some things and loves others, this is said in the same sense Scripture uses in maintaining that the earth disgorges men, and other things of that kind. That God is angry with no one, that he does not love things in the way in which ordinary people persuade themselves he does—these propositions may be inferred [30] sufficiently from Scripture itself. Isaiah says, and the apostle Paul to the Romans more clearly, For when they (namely the sons of Isaac) had not yet been born and had done neither good nor evil, it was said to her [Rebekah] that in order that God’s purpose should be maintained according [I/265] to his choice, not because of works, but because of his call, the elder would serve the younger, etc.20 And a little later, Therefore, he has pity on whom he will, and hardens whom he will. You will say to me—What does he still complain of? For who resists his will? But, who are you, man, to answer [5] God thus? Will what is made say to him who made it—Why have you made me in this way? Does the potter not have power over his clay, to make, from the same mass, one vessel for honor, and another for dishonor? etc.21

Why God warns men, why he does not save without warning, and why the impious are punished

If you should ask now, why does God warn men? the answer is [10] easy, viz. that God has decreed from eternity to warn men at that time, in order that those whom he willed to be saved might be converted. If you ask next, whether God could not save them without that warning, we reply that he could have.

Why, then, does he not save? you will perhaps ask again. I shall [15] answer this after you have told me why God did not render the Red Sea passable without a strong east wind, and why he does not bring about all singular motions without others, and infinitely many other things which God does by mediating causes.

You will ask again, why are the impious punished? For they act [20] from their own nature, and according to the divine decree. But I answer that it is also from the divine decree that they are punished. If only those were fit to be punished whom we feign to sin only from freedom, why do men try to exterminate poisonous snakes? For they only sin from their own nature, nor can they do otherwise.

[25] Scripture teaches nothing which contradicts the natural light

Finally, if any other passages which give rise to scruples still occur in Sacred Scripture, this is not the place to explain them. For here we are inquiring only after those things that we can grasp most certainly by natural reason. It suffices that we demonstrate those things clearly for us to know that Sacred Scripture must also teach the same things. [30] For the truth does not contradict the truth, nor can Scripture teach such nonsense as is commonly supposed. For if we were to discover in it anything that would be contrary to the natural light, we could refute it with the same freedom which we employ when we refute the Koran and the Talmud. But let us not think for a moment that anything could be found in Sacred Scripture that would contradict the [35] natural light.22

[I/266] CHAPTER IX
OF GOD’S POWER

How God’s Omnipotence should be understood

We have already proven sufficiently that God is omnipotent. Here we shall only attempt to explain briefly how this attribute is to be [5] understood. For there are many people who speak of it neither piously enough nor according to the truth. They say that some things are possible, others impossible, and still others necessary, by their own nature, and not by God’s decree. And they say that God’s omnipotence applies only to possible things.

[10] But we, who have already shown that all things depend absolutely on God’s decree, say that God is omnipotent. Moreover, after we have understood that he decreed certain things from the sheer freedom of his will, and then that he is immutable, we say now that he can do nothing against his own decrees, and that this is impossible for the [15] sole reason that it is incompatible with God’s perfection.

All things are necessary with respect to God’s decree, but it is not the case that some are necessary in themselves, and others with respect to his decree

But perhaps someone will argue that we find some things to be necessary only by attending to God’s decree, and others to be necessary without attending to his decree. For example, that Josiah would burn the bones of the idolators on Jeroboam’s altar.23 If we attend [20] only to Josiah’s will, we shall regard the matter as possible, nor shall we call it necessarily future in any way, except from the fact that the prophet had predicted it from God’s decree. But that the three angles of a triangle must equal two right angles, the thing itself shows.

Those who say this surely feign distinctions in things out of their [25] own ignorance. For if men understood clearly the whole order of Nature, they would find all things just as necessary as are all those treated in Mathematics. Yet because this is beyond human knowledge, we judge certain things to be possible, but not necessary. Accordingly, [30] we must say either that God can do nothing, since all things are really necessary, or that he can do all things, and that the necessity we find in things has resulted from the decree of God alone.

[I/267] If God had made a different nature of things, he would have had to give us a different intellect

Suppose someone asks now: what if God had decreed otherwise and had made false those things which are now true? would we not, nevertheless, admit them as quite true? Yes indeed, if he had left us with [5] the nature which in fact he has given us; but then he would also have been able, if he had so willed, to give us such a nature as he has now given us, by which we would understand the nature of things, and their laws, as God would have decreed them. Indeed, if we attend to God’s veracity, [we shall see that] he must have given us such a nature.

The same conclusion is also evident from what we said above, viz. that the whole natura naturata is only one being. From this it follows [10] that man is a part of Nature, which must be coherent with the other parts. Accordingly, it would also follow from the simplicity of God’s decree that, if God had created things in another way, he would at the same time have constituted our nature so that we would understand things just as they had been created by God. So though we wish to retain the same distinction concerning the power of God that [15] the Philosophers commonly teach, nevertheless, we are forced to explain it differently.

The subdivisions of God’s Power: absolute, ordained, ordinary, extraordinary; what they are

We divide the power of God, therefore, into absolute and ordained, and we call God’s power absolute, when we consider his omnipotence without attending to his decree, but ordained, when we do consider his [20] decrees.

Then there is the ordinary power of God, and his extraordinary power. The ordinary is that by which he preserves the world in a certain order; the extraordinary is exercised when he does something beyond the order of nature, e.g., all miracles, such as the speaking of an ass, the appearance of angels, and the like.

[25] Concerning this last there could, not without reason, be considerable doubt. For it seems a greater miracle if God always governs the world with one and the same fixed and immutable order, than if, on account of human folly, he abrogates the laws which (as only one thoroughly blinded could deny) he himself has most excellently decreed [30] in nature, from sheer freedom. But we leave this for the Theologians to settle.

We omit the other questions commonly raised about God’s power, viz. whether it extends to the past, whether he can do better what he does, [I/268] whether he can do more than he has done.24 For after what we have said above, such questions are very easily answered.

CHAPTER X
OF CREATION

[5] What creation is

That God is the creator of all things we have already established. Now we shall try to explain what should be understood by creation. Then we shall answer as well as we can the questions commonly raised [10] concerning creation. We say, therefore, that creation is an activity in which no causes concur except the efficient, or a created thing is that which presupposes nothing except God in order to exist.25

The common definition of creation rejected

There are several things which need to be noted here: (1) we omit those words which the philosophers commonly use, viz. ex nihilo, as [15] if nothing was the matter from which things were produced. The reason why philosophers speak this way is that when things are generated, they customarily suppose something prior to the things, out of which the things are made; consequently they were not able to omit that particle ex in creation.

The same thing has happened concerning matter. Because they see [20] that all bodies are in a place and are surrounded by other bodies, when they ask themselves where the whole of matter would be, they reply, in some imaginary space. So there is no doubt that they have not considered nothing as the negation of all reality, but have feigned or imagined it to be something real.26

[25] The author’s own definition explained

(2) I say that in creation no other causes concur beyond the efficient. I could, indeed, have said, that creation denies, or excludes, all causes except the efficient. Still, I preferred concur, so as not to be forced to answer those who ask whether God had set no end before him, on [30] account of which he created things.

Furthermore, to explain the matter better, I have added the second definition, viz. that a created thing presupposes nothing except God. [I/269] Surely if God had some end before him, it was not outside God. For there is nothing outside God by which he might be roused to action.

That accidents and modes are not created

(3) From this definition it follows that there is no creation of accidents and modes; for they presuppose a created substance in addition [5] to God.

There was no time or duration before creation

(4) Finally, we can imagine neither time nor duration before creation; but these latter have begun with things. For time is the measure of duration, or rather, is nothing but a mode of thinking. Consequently [10] it presupposes, not just any created thing whatever, but particularly, thinking men. Moreover, duration ceases when created things cease to be, and begins when created things begin to exist.

I say created things, for we have already shown quite unmistakably that no duration, but only eternity, is ascribable to God. Wherefore, [15] duration presupposes, or at least, supposes created things. Those, however, who imagine duration and time before created things labor under the same prejudice as those who invent a space outside matter. That is evident enough through itself. This will suffice concerning the definition of creation.

[20] God’s activity is the same in creating the world as in preserving it

Again, there is no need for us to repeat here what we demonstrated in IA10, viz. that as much power is required for creating a thing as for preserving it,27 i.e., that God’s activity is the same in creating the world as in preserving it.

[25] With these matters noted, we pass to the second thing we promised. We need to ask (1) what has been created, and what is uncreated? and (2) whether the created could have been created from eternity?

What created things are

[30] To the first, we reply that the created is everything whose essence is conceived clearly without any existence, and is nevertheless conceived through itself. E.g., matter, of which we have a clear and distinct concept, when we conceive it under the attribute of extension, and we conceive it equally clearly and distinctly whether it exists or not.

[I/270] How God’s thought differs from ours

But perhaps someone will say that we perceive thought clearly and distinctly without existence, and nevertheless, ascribe it to God. To this, however, we reply that we do not ascribe to God a thought such as ours is, i.e., susceptible of being acted on, and limited by the nature [5] of things, but one that is pure act, and therefore involves existence, as we have demonstrated above at sufficient length. For we have shown that God’s intellect and will are not distinguished from his power and essence, which involves existence.

There is not something outside God, and coeternal with him

Therefore, since all those things whose essence involves no existence [10] must be created by God in order to exist, and must be continuously preserved by the creator himself, as we have explained above, many times, we shall not waste time in refuting the opinion of those who have set up the world, or chaos, or matter devoid of all form, as coeternal with God, and therefore independent of him.28 So we pass [15] to the second question and ask whether what has been created could have been created from eternity.29

What is denoted here by the words: from eternity

To understand the question rightly, we must attend to this manner of speaking: from eternity. For by this we wish to signify here something altogether different from what we explained previously when [20] we spoke of God’s eternity. Here we understand nothing but a duration without any beginning of duration, or a duration so great that, even if we wished to multiply it by many years, or tens of thousands of years, and this product in turn by tens of thousands, we could still [25] never express it by any number, however large.

A proof that there could not have been something created from eternity

But that there can be no such duration is clearly demonstrated. For if the world were to go backward again from this point, it could never have such a duration. Therefore the world also could not have arrived at this point from such a beginning.

[30] You will say, perhaps, that to God nothing is impossible, for he is omnipotent, and therefore could make a duration such that there can not be a greater. We reply that God, because he is omnipotent, will never create a duration such that he cannot create a greater. For the nature of duration is such that, for any given duration, a greater or [I/271] lesser can always be conceived, just as is the case with number.

You will insist, perhaps, that God has existed from eternity, and therefore has endured up to this time. So there is a duration than which a greater cannot be conceived. But in this way you attribute to God a duration consisting of parts, which we have already refuted [5] more than adequately, when we showed that, not duration, but eternity pertains to God. Would that men had considered this rightly! For then they could have extricated themselves very easily from many disputes and absurdities, and would have occupied themselves entirely with the most blessed contemplation of this being, to their very great [10] delight.

But let us proceed to reply to the arguments of certain writers30 who try to show the possibility of such an infinite prior duration.

From the fact that God is eternal, it does not follow that his effects can also exist from eternity

First, they contend, a thing produced can exist at the same time as its [15] cause, but since God has existed from eternity, his effects could also have been produced from eternity. And this they confirm further by the example of the son of God, who has been produced by the father from eternity. But from what we have previously said, it is clear that they confuse eternity with duration and only attribute duration to God from eternity, as is also [20] evident from the example they use. For the same eternity they ascribe to the son of God they hold to be possible for creatures. Again, time and duration are imagined prior to the establishment of the world and they wish to set up a duration without created things, just as others invent an eternity outside God. We have already shown both views to [25] be very far from the truth.

We reply, therefore, that it is quite false that God can communicate his eternity to creatures. Nor is the son of God a creature; rather like the father, he is eternal. So when we say that the father has begotten the son from eternity, we mean only that he has always communicated [30] his eternity to the son.31

That God, if he acted necessarily, is not infinitely powerful

Secondly, they argue that God is not less powerful when he acts freely, than when he acts necessarily; but if God acted necessarily, since his power is infinite, he would have had to create the world from eternity. Still, we can [I/272] reply very easily to this argument also if we pay attention to its basis. For those good men32 suppose that they can have different ideas of a being of infinite power. For they conceive God to be of infinite power, both when he acts from the necessity of nature and when he acts freely.

[5] But we deny that God, if he acted from the necessity of nature, would be of infinite power. We may deny this now, and indeed they are obliged to concede it, after we have demonstrated that the most perfect being acts freely and can only be conceived as unique.

They may reply that it can, nevertheless, be posited that God, when [10] he acts from the necessity of nature, is of infinite power, even though what is supposed is impossible. Our answer is that it is no more legitimate to suppose that, than to suppose a square circle in order to infer that not all lines drawn from its center to its circumference are equal. And this is adequately established by what we have said just now, so that there is no need to repeat what was said earlier. For we [15] have just demonstrated that there is no duration such that its double, or a greater or lesser duration cannot be conceived, and that therefore, for any given duration, a greater or lesser can always be created by God, who acts freely with infinite power. But if God acted from the necessity of nature, that would not follow at all. For he could produce [20] only that [duration] which would result from his nature, and not infinitely many others greater than the given [duration].

Briefly, we argue thus: if God created a greatest duration, such that he himself could not create a greater one, then he would necessarily diminish his power. But the latter is false, for his power does not [25] differ from his essence. Therefore, etc. Again, if God acted from the necessity of nature, he would have to create a duration such that he himself cannot create a greater; but if God creates such a duration, he is not of infinite power, for we can always conceive a duration greater than any given duration. Therefore, if God acted from the necessity of nature, he would be of infinite power.

[30] How we have the concept of a greater duration than the world has

But here perhaps a difficulty will occur to some, viz. how is it that—seeing that the world was created five thousand years ago, or more, if the calculation of the chronologists is correct33—we can nevertheless conceive a greater duration, which we said could not be understood [I/273] without created things. That difficulty can be very easily removed, if it is noted that we do not understand this duration from the mere contemplation of created things, but from the contemplation of God’s infinite power of creating. For creatures cannot be conceived as [5] existing, or enduring, through themselves, but as existing through God’s infinite power, from which alone they have all their duration. See IP12 and its corollary.

Finally, in order not to waste time here replying to worthless arguments, the following things only are to be noted: the distinction [10] between eternity and duration, and that duration is not in any way intelligible without created things, nor eternity without God. If we perceive these things rightly, we can reply to all the arguments very easily. So we do not think it necessary to dwell on them further.

[15] CHAPTER XI
OF GOD’S CONCURRENCE

Little or nothing remains to be said about this attribute, after we have shown that at each moment God continually creates a thing, anew as it were. From this we have demonstrated that the thing, of itself, [20] never has any power to do anything or to determine itself to any action, and that this applies not only to things outside man, but also to the human will itself. Then we reply also to certain arguments concerning this; and though many other arguments are usually brought [25] forward, our intention here is to ignore them, since they pertain principally to Theology.

Nevertheless, because there are many who admit God’s concurrence, but in quite a different sense from that in which we maintain it, we must, in order to uncover their fallacy most readily, take note [30] here of what we have proven previously. Viz. that the present time has no connection with the future time (see IA10), and that we perceive [I/274] this clearly and distinctly. And if only we attend properly to this, we will be able, without any difficulty, to answer all of the arguments they can draw from Philosophy.

How God’s Preservation is related to his determination of things to act

Still, in order not to mention this question uselessly, we shall reply [5] in passing to the query, whether it adds something to God’s preservation, when he determines a thing to act. When we spoke of motion, we already suggested an answer to this. For we said that God preserves the same quantity of motion in nature. So if we attend to the whole nature of [10] matter, nothing new is added to it. But with respect to particular things, it can in a sense be said that something new is added to them. It does not seem that this applies also to spiritual things; for it is not evident that they depend on one another in this way.

Finally, since the parts of duration have no connection with one [15] another, we can say, not so much that God preserves things as that he creates them. So if a man now has a determinate freedom to do something, it must be said that God has created him thus at this time. Nor is it an objection to this that the human will is often determined [20] by things outside it, and that in turn all things in nature are determined by one another to activity. For they have been determined so by God. No thing can determine the will, nor can the will in turn be determined,34 except by the power of God alone. But how this is [25] compatible with human freedom, i.e., how God can do this and human freedom still be preserved, we confess that we do not know, as we have already frequently remarked.

That the common division of God’s attributes is more nominal than real

These are the things I had decided to say about God’s attributes. So far I have given no division of them. But that division Writers [30] generally give—that God’s attributes are divided into the communicable and the incommunicable—to confess the truth, that division seems more nominal than real. For God’s knowledge agrees no more with human knowledge than the Dog that is a heavenly constellation agrees with the dog that is a barking animal. And perhaps even much less.35

[I/275] The Author’s own division

But we give this division. There are some attributes of God which explain his active essence, others which explain nothing of his action, but only his manner of existing.36 Unity, eternity, necessity, etc., are [5] of the latter sort, but understanding, will, life, omnipotence, etc., of the former. This division is sufficiently clear and evident, and includes all of God’s attributes.

CHAPTER XII
OF THE HUMAN MIND

[10] We must go on now to created substance, which we have divided into extended and thinking. By extended substance we understood matter, or corporeal substance. But by thinking substance we understood only human minds.

Angels are a subject for theology, but not for metaphysics

And though the Angels have also been created, nevertheless, because [15] they are not known by the natural light, they do not concern Metaphysics. For their essence and existence are known only by revelation, and so pertain solely to Theology. Since theological knowledge is altogether other than, or completely different in kind from, natural knowledge, it ought not to be mixed with it in any way. So [20] no one will expect us to say anything about angels.

The human mind is not transmitted but created by God, though we do not know when

Let us return, then, to human minds, about which few things now remain to be said, apart from reminding you that we have said nothing about the time of the human mind’s creation.37 Our reason is that it is not sufficiently established at what time God creates it, since it can [25] exist without body. It is sufficiently certain that it is not by transmission.38 For that occurs only in things which are generated, i.e., in the modes of some substance. But substance itself cannot be generated; it can only be created by the Omnipotent alone, as we have proven fully in the preceding.

[30] In what sense the human soul is mortal

But let me add something concerning its immortality. Quite certainly we cannot say of any created thing that its nature is such that it would involve a contradiction for the thing to be destroyed by God’s [I/276] power; he who has the power of creating a thing, has also the power of destroying it. Moreover, as we have already fully demonstrated, no created thing can exist by its own nature for even a moment, but each is created continually by God.

[5] In what sense immortal

In spite of this, we see clearly and distinctly that we have no idea by which we conceive that a substance is destroyed, as we have ideas of the corruption and generation of modes. For we conceive clearly, when we attend to the structure of the human body, that such a structure [10] can be destroyed. But when we attend to corporeal substance,39 we do not conceive clearly that it can be annihilated.

Again, a Philosopher does not ask what God can do by his supreme power, but judges the nature of things from the laws that God has [15] placed in them. So he judges to be fixed and settled what is inferred from those laws to be fixed and settled, though he does not deny that God can change those laws and everything else.40 Hence we also do not ask, when we speak of the soul, what God can do, but only what follows from the laws of nature.41

[20] Its immortality is demonstrated

Moreover, since it clearly follows from these laws that a substance can be destroyed neither through itself nor through another created substance (as we have already proven abundantly, unless I am mistaken), we are compelled, from the laws of nature, to maintain that the mind is immortal.

And if we wish to look into the matter still more thoroughly, we [25] shall be able to demonstrate most evidently that it is immortal. For as we have just demonstrated, it follows clearly from the laws of nature that the soul is immortal. But those laws of nature are God’s decrees, revealed by the natural light, as is also established most plainly by the preceding. Now we have also already demonstrated that God’s decrees [30] are immutable. From all this we infer clearly that God’s immutable will concerning the duration of souls has been manifested to men not only by revelation, but also by the natural light.

God acts, not against nature, but above nature; what this is, according to the author

Nor does it matter if someone objects that God sometimes destroys those natural laws to bring about miracles. For most of the more prudent [I/277] Theologians42 concede that God does nothing against nature, but only acts above nature. I.e. (as I explain it), that God also has many laws of acting which he has not communicated to the human intellect. But if these laws had been communicated to the human intellect, they [5] would be just as natural as the rest.

So it is quite clearly established that minds are immortal, and I do not see what remains to be said here about the human soul in general. Nor would there remain anything to be said in particular about its functions, if the arguments of certain Authors did not summon me to [10] reply to them. For they try, by these arguments, to bring it about that they do not see and think what they do see and think.

Why some think the will is not free

Some think they can show that the will is not free, but is always determined by something else. And they think this because they understand by will something distinct from the soul, something they [15] consider as a substance whose nature43 consists entirely in that it is indifferent. To remove all confusion, we shall first explain [what the will is]. Once this is done, we shall lay bare the fallacies of their arguments very easily.

What the will is

We have said that the human mind is a thinking thing; it follows, [20] accordingly, that, from its own nature alone, considered in itself, it can do something, viz. think, i.e., affirm and deny. But these thoughts are determined either by things existing outside the mind, or by the mind alone. For it is a substance from whose thinking essence many [25] acts of thought can and must follow. But those acts of thought which recognize no other cause of themselves than the human mind are called volitions. And the human mind, in so far as it is conceived as a sufficient cause for producing such actions, is called the will.

[30] That there is a will

But that the soul has such a power, although determined by no external things, can be explained most conveniently by the example of Buridan’s ass. For if we put a man, instead of an ass, in such a condition of equilibrium,44 the man will rightly be considered, not a thinking thing, but a most shameful ass, if he should perish from hunger and thirst.

[I/278] The same conclusion is also evident from the fact that, as we have said before, we willed to doubt all things, and indeed, not just to judge doubtful those things which can be called in question, but to reject them as false. (See Descartes Principles I, 39.)

[5] And that it is free

Next, it must be noted that, although the soul is determined by external things to affirming or denying something, it is not so determined as if it were compelled by external things, but it always remains [10] free. For no thing has the power of destroying its essence. So what the soul affirms and denies, it always affirms and denies freely, as is explained sufficiently in the fourth Meditation. Hence, if anyone asks why the soul wills this or that, or does not will this or that, we shall reply, because the soul is a thinking thing, i.e., a thing which, of its [15] own nature, has the power of willing and not willing, of affirming and denying. For this is what it is to be a thinking thing.

And should not be confused with wanting

With these matters explained, let us now look at our opponents’ arguments. (1) The first is as follows: If the will can will contrary to the last dictate of the intellect, if it can want what is contrary to the good prescribed [20] by the last dictate of the intellect, it will be able to want evil as evil. But the latter is absurd. Therefore the former is also.

From this argument it is plain that they do not understand what the will is. For they confuse it with the appetite which the soul has after it has affirmed or denied something. This they have learned from their [25] Master, who has defined the will as an appetite for what seems good.45

But we say that the will is the affirming that this is good, or the contrary. We have already explained this fully in dealing with the cause of error, which we have shown to arise from the fact that the will extends more [30] widely than the intellect. But if the mind had not affirmed from the fact that it is free, that this is good, it would want nothing.

So we reply to the argument by conceding that the mind can will nothing contrary to the last dictate of the intellect, i.e., that it can will nothing insofar as it is supposed not to will it. And that is what is supposed here, when it is said that the mind has judged something [I/279] evil, i.e., it has not willed it. Nevertheless, we deny that the mind absolutely could not have willed what is evil, i.e., judged it good. That would be contrary to experience. For we judge good things that [5] are evil, and evil many things that are good.

Nor is the will anything except the mind itself

(2) The second argument—or if you prefer, the first, since so far there has been none—is this: If the will is not determined to willing by the last judgment of the practical intellect, then it will determine itself. But the will does not determine itself, because of itself and by its nature it is [10] indeterminate. So they go on to argue thus. If the will, of itself and by its own nature, is indifferent to willing and not willing, it cannot be determined by itself to willing. For what determines must be as determinate as what is determined is indeterminate. But the will, considered as determining itself, is [15] as indeterminate as it is when it is considered as to be determined. For our opponents posit nothing in the determining will which is not the same in the will which either is to be determined or has been determined. Nor indeed, can they posit such a thing here. Therefore, the will cannot be determined by itself to willing. And if not by itself, then it is determined by another.

[20] These are the very words of Professor Heereboord of Leiden.46 They show plainly that he understands by will, not the mind itself, but something else either outside the mind or in the mind, like a blank tablet, lacking all thought, and capable of receiving any picture whatever. Or rather he conceives it as a balance in a state of equilibrium, [25] which is moved in either direction you like by any weight whatever, as the added weight is determined [in a certain direction], or finally, as something that neither he nor any mortal can grasp by any thought.

But we have just said, indeed we have shown clearly, that the will is nothing except the mind itself, which we call a thinking thing, i.e., [30] one that affirms and denies. From this we clearly infer, when we attend to the nature of the mind alone, that it has an equal power of affirming and of denying. For this, I say, is thinking.

So if we conclude that the mind has the power of affirming and denying from the fact that it thinks, why then do we seek adventitious [I/280] causes of the production of what follows from the nature of the thing alone? You will say that the mind is no more determinate toward affirming than toward denying. Therefore, you will conclude, we must seek a cause by which it is determined.

[5] But I argue on the contrary, that if the mind, of itself and by its own nature, were determined only to affirming (although it is impossible to conceive this, as long as we think it is a thinking thing), then of its own nature alone it could only affirm, and never deny, no matter how many causes concurred; if it is determined neither to affirming [10] nor to denying, then it will be able to do neither; and finally, if it has the power to do each, as we have just shown it to have, then it will be able to bring about each one, of its own nature alone, with no other cause assisting.

This will be quite evident to all those who consider the thinking [15] thing as a thinking thing, i.e., who in no way separate the attribute of thought from the thinking thing itself, from which it is only distinguished by reason. Our opponents do make this separation when they strip the thinking thing of every thought and feign it as that prime matter of the Peripatetics.

[20] So I reply thus to the argument. First, to its major premise. If by will one understands a thing stripped of every thought, we grant that the will is, of its nature, indeterminate. But we deny that the will is something stripped of every thought. On the contrary, we maintain that it is a thought, i.e., a power of doing each one, of affirming and [25] of denying. By a power of doing each one, of course, nothing else can be understood than a cause sufficient for each one.

Next, we also deny that, if the will were indeterminate, i.e., deprived of every thought, some adventitious cause (except God, by his [30] infinite power of creating) would be able to determine it. For to conceive a thinking thing without any thought is the same as wishing to conceive an extended thing without extension.

Why Philosophers have confused the mind with corporeal things

There should, finally, be no need to examine many arguments here. I give warning only that our Opponents, because they have not understood [I/281] the will and have had no clear and distinct concept of the mind, have confused the mind with corporeal things. This has happened because they have used words that they are accustomed to use for corporeal things to signify spiritual ones which they did not understand. [5] For they have been accustomed to call indeterminate those bodies which are propelled in opposite directions by equivalent and opposite external causes. So when they say that the will is indeterminate, they seem to conceive it also as a body in equilibrium. And because [10] those bodies have nothing but what they have received from external causes (from which it follows that they must always be determined by an external cause), they think the same thing follows in the will. But we have already explained sufficiently how the matter really stands, so we make an end of it here.

[15] Of extended substance we have already said enough previously, and beyond these two, we recognize no others. As for real accidents and other qualities, they have already been rejected adequately and it is not necessary to spend our time refuting them. So here we bring our work to a close.

The End

1 Fischer modified his position in later editions of his history but not sufficiently to escape further criticism from Freudenthal (see Freudenthal 4, 304ff.). See also Lewkowitz.

2 On the introduction of Cartesian philosophy into the Dutch universities, see Bouillier, Thijssen-Schoute 2 and 3, and Dibon.

3 On this theme, see Gueroult’s criticism of Spinoza’s interpretation of the cogito (in Gueroult 2, 64-78) and Curley 7. In the latter article I take up what still seems to me a great paradox about Spinoza’s geometric exposition of Descartes, viz. (if we are to believe the Conversation with Burman) Spinoza is undertaking in this work to put into synthetic geometric form a work which according to Descartes was already in that form. This would imply that Spinoza misunderstood Descartes’ distinction between analysis and synthesis. See Cottingham, 12, and, for criticism of my interpretation, Garber and Cohen, 141-147.

1 AT VII, 155 (cf. AT IX, 121). See the Glossary-Index on a priori. Descartes’ contrast between the analytic and the synthetic method has been the subject of much discussion by Cartesian scholars. See, for example, Gueroult 3, 1: 22-28; Gouhier, 104-112; Alquié, 2: 581-585; Curley 7; and Garber and Cohen.

2 This statement is particularly important for what it tells us about the status of the work now known as the Cogitata Metaphysica, viz. that it was originally composed as a part of the project of teaching Casearius the Cartesian philosophy. But since Meyer describes it as treating of questions which had not been resolved by Descartes, we are warned not to expect straightforward exposition, but a treatment of traditional problems in a Cartesian spirit.

3 In spite of what Meyer says here, it does appear from Spinoza’s correspondence that he had the opportunity to see page proofs of this work, and to make corrections and additions. See Gebhardt I/610, and Letter 12a.

4 The matters of logic are presumably those questions about universals and about the various kinds of distinction which Descartes takes up in Principles I, 58-62. The things recounted only historically are perhaps things like Descartes’ explanation of why people have failed to distinguish mind from body properly (I, 12), why they fail to see the force of the ontological argument (I, 16), and various other explanations of error which Descartes offers (e.g., I, 71-74). Cf. Spinoza’s note c at I/159/4.

5 Reading (with Akkerman and Van Vloten and Land): sententiâ.

1 B: “something false as true or something doubtful as certain.”

2 The first two grounds are offered both in the First Meditation and in the Principles I, 4. The third is not offered until the Sixth Meditation.

3 B: “powerful.”

4 In deriving this rule directly from the cogito, Spinoza follows the Discourse rather than the Meditations or Principles. But Descartes’ version of the rule there is slightly different: “Whatever things we conceive very clearly and very distinctly are true” (AT VI, 32).

5 Spinoza’s account of the cogito follows very closely that which Descartes gives in his Reply to the Second Objections (AT VII: 140-141). I have argued for a different reading of Descartes, stressing Principles I, 7 and 10, in Curley 8, chap. 4.

6 Spinoza’s list of the various modes of thought is drawn from the Second Meditation, AT VII, 28.

7 Spinoza here presents as Descartes’ answer to the objection of circularity, a reply that hinges on his exempting from the scope of the doubt propositions so evident that they do not require proof. And certainly Descartes does, in the passage cited, seem to rely on such an exemption. But Descartes also, in other passages (e.g., AT VII, 21 and 36), says that the hypothesis of a deceiving God casts doubt on all his former beliefs, no matter how evident. Spinoza’s verbal reminiscences of those passages (at I/143/6f, I/145/32f, and I/146/30ff) suggest an awareness that Descartes cannot consistently take that line of defense. Cf. Spinoza’s note f at I/171/14.

8 The answer Spinoza here goes on to offer, not as Descartes’ own answer, but presumably as one at least consistent with Cartesian principles (cf. I/131/25ff.), relies on a distinction between having a clear and distinct idea of God and knowing that God exists. This second reply does have certain affinities to what I believe to be Descartes’ best line of defense (cf. Curley 8, chap. 5). In the Treatise on the Intellect (§ 79) Spinoza adopts this reply as his own.

9 B: “no clear idea.”

10 The definitions, apart from the exceptions noted, follow very closely those given by Descartes in the geometric presentation of his thought at the end of the Second Replies (AT VII, 160-162).

11 B: “an idea of what I want to signify by those words.”

12 The definition of substance given here follows that in the Second Replies. Later (PPII, D2, I/181) Spinoza will give another definition modeled on Principles I, 51-52 (AT VIII, 24-25).

13 The explanation comes from Descartes, but Descartes adds: “because it is known to the natural light that nothing can have no real attribute.”

14 The explanation comes from Descartes, who further explains to Mersenne (21 April 1641) that “in good Latin anima means air or breath” and that its use for mind is a transferred one. Balling uses ziel for mens and replaces the explanation by: “What Descartes adds to this definition concerns only the word mens, which expresses his meaning more clearly because it is not ambiguous in Latin and does not signify something corporeal. But since in our language we find no such word, which does not at the same time signify something corporeal, one word would not express the meaning more clearly than another. So it would be useless to translate that here.”

15 Descartes: “of local extension.”

16 Spinoza has added “through itself” to Descartes’ definition. Cf. P10D.

17 Spinoza has added “truly” to Descartes’ definition. In each of the preceding definitions some word or phrase has been italicized to show what term is being defined. In D9 and D10 (both here and in Descartes), nothing is italicized. In the case of D10, it is clear that “really distinct” is being defined. Here the most natural assumption is that “being contained in the nature or concept of” is being defined.

However, there is some plausibility in taking D9 as a definition of truth, and as an attempt to define truth in such a way that it will make sense to speak of truths about nonexistent objects, or objects whose existence is problematic. Descartes’ and Spinoza’s views about mathematical objects would make such an account desirable, as would their common endeavor to defend the ontological argument. We might regard D9 as a first step toward a Leibnizian theory of truth, though in Leibniz there is the further concern to understand God’s knowledge of future contingents.

18 Once again Spinoza relies on the Geometrical Exposition, but he is much freer in his treatment of Descartes’ axioms (AT VII, 164-166) than in his treatment of the definitions. Some are carried over verbatim A4 = Desc. A6, A7 = Desc. A3, A8 = Desc. A4, A9 = Desc. A5), some are reproduced only approximately (A5, A6, A10, and A11 correspond to Descartes’ A7, A10, A2, and A1, respectively), some are omitted (Descartes’ A8 and A9, which Spinoza will later query at IP7S), and new axioms are introduced (A1-A3). A1 is arguably an assumption Descartes makes in defending the cogito against the charge of being a syllogism with a suppressed major premise; A2 corresponds very roughly to Descartes’ first postulate; A3 corresponds to nothing I know of in Descartes.

19 B: “prior in us.” Cf. P2D.

20 This stipulation regarding the nature of axioms evidently has its origin in passages like Principles I, 10 and I, 49. While it plausibly holds of the axioms just enumerated, it is not clear that it holds of all the axioms which follow P4S, which come more directly from Descartes. While Spinoza sometimes appears to accept such a stipulation in his own usage (e.g., in Letter 10), it is far from clear that all the axioms in the Ethics satisfy this condition.

21 Cf. the TdIE, §§ 47-48.

22 B: “most certain.”

23 Descartes remarks (AT VII, 164) that some of his axioms could have been presented as theorems if he had wished to be more accurate.

24 Note that Spinoza’s explanation of Descartes’ axiom relies on a doctrine Spinoza held in opposition to Descartes: that ideas involve an element of affirmation. Cf. E IIP49 and Meditation IV.

a We are certain of this too because we experience it in ourselves insofar as we are thinking. See preceding schol.

b Everyone discovers this in himself, insofar as he is a thinking thing.

25 EP: orationum, B: redenen (= rationum), so perhaps “reasons.” Similarly in l. 5.

c Read Principles I, 16.

d Take as one example the spider, which easily weaves a web that men could weave only with the greatest difficulty. On the other hand, how many things do men do with the greatest ease which are perhaps impossible for angels? [In a letter to Mesland, 2 May 1644, AT IV, 110-20. Descartes replies to a similar objection: “I confess that in physical and moral causes, which are particular and limited, one often finds that those which produce some effect are incapable of producing many others which seem less to us. So a man, who can produce another man, cannot produce an ant; and a king, who can make a whole people obey him, sometimes cannot make a horse obey him. But when it is a question of a universal and unlimited cause, it seems to me a very evident common notion that what can do more, can also do less, as evident as the whole is greater than its part.” This letter was number 115 in Volume I of Clerselier’s edition of Descartes’ correspondence. Since Spinoza elsewhere refers to letter 118 of that volume (at I/195/32), it seems natural to assume that he had read the letter to Mesland. It is therefore surprising that he makes no reference to Descartes’ reply.]

26 B: “than those I now have to preserve myself in my present condition.”

27 Cf. I/163.

28 EP: To nihil, B: het niet. See the Glossary-Index on nothing. Spinoza is somewhat more open here in his criticism of the doctrine of creation ex nihilo than he will be when he treats it later in the Appendix (CM II, x). His comparison here indicates his belief that creation ex nihilo involves a contradiction.

e Note that the power by which the substance preserves itself is nothing but its essence, and differs from it only in name. This will be discussed mainly when we treat of God’s power in the Appendix. [In fact the identity of vis and essentia does not come into CM II, 9, though it is mentioned in II, 6.]

29 Descartes maintains that the distinction between substance and attribute is a distinction of reason in Principles I, 62. The similarity of the objection made in this and the following paragraph to those made by Burman (AT V, 154-155) naturally raises the question whether Spinoza knew the Conversation with Burman. Caillois thinks he certainly did (Pléiade, 1407). Lachièze-Rey (91-93) more cautiously judges that he probably did. I think it unlikely.

The similarity has relatively little weight, since the objections might occur easily enough to a careful student of the Principles. Descartes often seems to identify substance and attribute. Cf. Principles I, 63, and II, 9 helpfully annotated in Alquié, III, 133 and 154.

Perhaps Spinoza’s apparent ignorance of Descartes’ replies is also of little weight, since elsewhere he ignores replies Descartes made in works we know he had access to cf. note d at I/161/7). But apart from the fact that his accounts of the cogito and the circle might well have been different, had he known the Entretien, there is also the fact that there Descartes says the Principles were written in the synthetic mode (AT V, 153), whereas here Spinoza takes himself to be expounding synthetically a work Descartes had written in the analytic mode (I/129/25).

30 B: “comes nearer and nearer to Nothing.”

31 This proof and that of the immediately preceding corollary are taken almost word for word from the end of the Second Replies (AT VIII, 169-170). Note the role played by definitions in the proof of P8 and cf. Meyer’s preface, I/132/5. The sections of the Principles which Spinoza cites deal with God’s attributes and various topics concerning which Descartes invokes the limits of the human intellect—e.g., the mysteries of the incarnation and the trinity, the indefinite extension of the physical world, and God’s purposes. Cf. Meyer’s preface, I/132/25. Some of these topics will later be taken up by Spinoza in his own way. Cf. P9, P16.

32 It is interesting that whereas Descartes treats God’s omniscience as known from examination of our idea of God (Principles I, 22), Spinoza offers a proof in which God’s role as a creator of other intellects is stressed. This procedure inevitably provokes the question of God’s corporeality, and Spinoza’s qualification of his concession in the scholium is suggestive of his own doctrine that corporeal substance, insofar as it is substance, is indivisible. Cf. II/55-60.

Note that in the Short Treatise (I/45/23) omniscience is included on a list of properties traditionally but improperly ascribed to God. In the Ethics Spinoza will argue that intellect pertains to natura naturata, not natura naturans (E IP31).

33 EP: necessariam, sive minimè possibilem … existentiam. Appuhn wanted to suppress sive minimè possibilem as an inadvertent addition. If the phrase had to be translated as it has been by some (e.g., Hayes, Caillois): “or at least possible,” then that emendation would be correct. But Balling’s version, which I follow, makes good sense of the text as it stands. I assume that here (as, e.g., at I/155/16) possibilis is used as a synonym for contingens. We have the same construction at I/179/25.

34 Descartes does not attempt to prove this proposition in the Principles, but does offer an argument for it in the Conversation with Burman (AT V, 161) apropos of a statement made in the Fifth Meditation (AT VII, 68).

f I have not counted this axiom among the axioms, because it was not at all necessary. I only required it for demonstrating this proposition, and also because, so long as I did not know God’s existence, I did not want to assume anything to be true except what I could deduce from the first thing known; that I am (as I warned in P4S). Again, I have not put definitions of fear and malice among the definitions, because no one is ignorant of these definitions, and I do not require them except for this one proposition.

35 Cf. Descartes, Principles I, 29-30.

36 In fact the passage cited from the Principles does not offer a proof of the freedom of the will, but claims that it is so manifest that it should be numbered among the common notions, and that it is known by experience. In the Fourth Meditation it is also said to be known by experience (AT VII, 57), and the following account is given: “[The freedom of the will] consists only in this, that we can do or not do a thing (that is, affirm or deny it, pursue or flee it), or rather that in affirming or denying, or pursuing or fleeing, what is proposed to us by the intellect, we are so impelled that we feel ourselves to be determined toward it by no external force.” Cf. Spinoza, Ep. 58, IV/266: “This is that human freedom which all men boast that they have, and which consists only in this, that they are conscious of their appetites, but ignorant of the causes by which they are determined.” See also E IIP35S, and IIIP2S. The passage cited from the Appendix (I/278/5) offers no argument for the freedom of the will, but at the critical point refers the reader back to the Fourth Meditation.

37 B: “clearly and distinctly.”

38 Cf. Descartes’ Letter to Mersenne, 27 May 1630.

g See P14D and P15S.

39 Whereas Descartes derives God’s preordination of things from God’s power (Principles I, 40), Spinoza derives it from the eternity of God’s intellect (cf. E IP33S2). And whereas Descartes asserts that free will is compatible with God’s preordination, though we cannot understand how (Principles I, 41), Spinoza passes over this problem in silence (apart from what he says through Meyer at I/132/25ff.).

40 In the Principles Descartes’ analogues of this proposition occur as sections 1 and 2 of Part II. In the Latin version Descartes does not speak of ‘extended substance,’ but of “the extended thing which we call body or matter” and “a certain matter [thing] extended in length, depth and breadth.” In the French version, where the term ‘substance’ is introduced, it is still treated as a general term (“a certain substance,” “this substance”). But in Spinoza’s version extended substance seems to be treated as a singular term, hence my avoidance of articles. Though Descartes is not consistent in his usage, there is Cartesian authority for the doctrine that ultimately there is only one extended substance, even by the somewhat relaxed standards for substancehood which Descartes allows in Principles I, 52 (cf. The Synopsis of the Meditations, AT VII, 13-14).

41 I.e., that the extended thing which God was able to create he did create.

1 Cf. Principles II, 5.

2 Cf. Principles I, 51-52.

3 Cf. Principles II, 20.

4 Cf. Principles I, 26-27.

5 Cf. Principles II, 16.

6 Cf. Principles II, 20.

7 Cf. Principles II, 25.

8 Cf. Principles II, 28.

9 Cf. Principles II, 29, and the Letter to More, 15 April 1649. On the relation between the Cartesian and Newtonian laws of motion, see Ellis, Westfall, Koyré 3, and Herivel.

10 Cf. Principles II, 33.

11 Cf. Principles I, 11.

12 Spinoza will criticize this Cartesian conception of essence in the Ethics II P1OCS.

13 Spinoza’s acceptance of this Cartesian doctrine (Principles II, 3-4) lies behind his criticism of Boyle at IV/28.

14 Cf. Principles I, 53.

15 Cf. Principles I, 66-70.

16 Principles II, 19.

17 Principles II, 20.

18 Principles II, 21.

19 Principles II, 22.

20 Principles II, 33.

a On this, see the fuller explanation in the Appendix, II, iii and ix.

21 If the corporeality of God’s essence would be a barrier to his conservation of thinking things, it is natural to wonder why God’s being a thinking thing would not be a barrier to his conservation of corporeal things. In this scholium Spinoza seems again to be making use of the correspondence with More. See the letter of 15 April 1649.

22 We know from Meyer’s Preface (I/132/25), that Spinoza would not give this answer himself. It seems, from Letter 12 (IV/53/14), that he would deny that one infinite cannot be greater than another.

23 Principles II, 22.

24 Cf. IP21 with Principles II, 1.

25 Cf. Principles I, 64, 69; II, 24.

26 This anecdote goes back to Diogenes Laertius VI, 39, but along the way some colorful and inaccurate details have been added. As Bayle pointed out (354ff.), Diogenes the Cynic was not a contemporary of Zeno. In view of Spinoza’s criticisms of Zeno here, it is ironic that Bayle treats the Eleatic philosophy of Parmenides and Melissus as a species of Spinozism (387).

27 The argument recounted here is not to be found in any of our ancient sources of knowledge of Zeno. It is unclear what Spinoza’s source was.

28 EP: “begins,” G: “began.”

29 Following Vloten-Land.

30 This second argument is sometimes (e.g., by Appuhn and Caillois) identified with the ‘flying arrow’ argument reported by Aristotle (Physics 239b30). But the identification is questionable (cf. Barnes, 1:276). A more likely source is Diogenes Laertius IX, 72, though the account there is very incomplete.

31 The reference is to Letter 118 of the Clerselier edition of Descartes’ correspondence, a letter to Clerselier of June or July 1646.

b See the figure for P8 [Fig. 17].

32 Cf. the Letter to More of 15 April 1649.

33 Cf. Principles II, 33.

c See the figure for P9 [Fig. 19].

d See the figure for P9 [Fig. 19].

34 Cf. Principles II, 33.

35 Those who follow Spinoza’s instructions here will find that, according to Descartes, this is an instance of a truth which our mind perceives but does not comprehend.

36 Cf. Principles II, 36. In II, 37 Descartes contrasts the primary or general cause of motion (God) with “the secondary and particular causes” of the different motions, which he identifies with “certain rules or laws of nature.” In II, 40, he observes that “all the particular causes of changes which happen to bodies are contained in” his third law of motion, which states that in cases of impact the quantity of motion is conserved. Though Spinoza will go on to deduce Descartes’ laws of motion, he suppresses Descartes’ reference to them as secondary causes. Perhaps the explanation for this omission is that, according to Spinoza’s own philosophy God’s power of acting is to be identified with the laws of nature (cf. II/138/11ff. and Curley 3, 47). In 1.13 I follow an emendation of Hubbeling’s. Both EP and B cite “IP14 & IP17S,” which cannot be right.

37 Cf. Principles II, 36.

38 Considering Descartes’ position in the Principles (I, 76; IV, 207), we must read this scholium as a muted criticism of him. The implication, I take it, is that, if we conceive of God’s power as being like that of a king, as Descartes did (cf. the Letter to Mersenne, 15 April 1630 with E II P3S), we destroy the foundation of our physics.

39 Cf. Principles II, 37. The phrase here translated “as far as it can,” quantum in se est, is used both by Descartes, in stating his law of inertia, and by Newton, in his definition of inertial force. Cohen traces it back to Lucretius and concludes that it connotes what a body can do by its own natural force, in the absence of any external forces, with the additional implication that the body’s own natural force is limited. Spinoza will use the same phrases in stating his own conatus principle (E III P6). Cf. Curley 4, 367-368.

40 Cf. Principles II, 30. Spinoza’s proof is quite different from Descartes’, which seems to require the concept of motion at an instant, while denying that there can be such a thing.

41 IIP12 does not quite say what it is made to say here. Cf. IIP8S and IIP11S.

42 Spinoza’s argument in these two demonstrations is at best suggested by Descartes’ arguments in the relevant sections of the Principles (II, 39, and III, 57-59). It is not clear that Spinoza’s exposition is even consistent with Descartes’, since Spinoza treats the sling as a cause of the stone’s tendency to continue along a line tangential to the circle in which it is moving (I/206/6-8), whereas Descartes treats the sling as an impediment to a tendency to rectilinear motion which is in the stone itself (AT VIII-1, 108-109).

e This is evident from propositions 18 and 19 of Book III of Euclid’s Elements.

43 Cf. Principles II, 39. In Spinoza’s version of the proposition conari replaces Descartes’ tendere. But the conatus ad motum is a thoroughly Cartesian concept. Cf. I/229/21.

44 B: “then A will also not lose any of its motion, and if A loses none of its motion, then B will also lose none of its rest.” In the corresponding passage of the Principles (II, 40), Descartes does not mention rest as a quantity subject to his conservation law. But cf. Principles II, 26-27, and Le monde, vii (AT XI, 40). See also Gueroult 2, viii, and Koyré 3, 76-77.

f See the figure for P20 [Fig. 25].

45 Cf. Principles II, 41; Dioptric, ii (AT VI, 94-96). See Westfall, 64-68, on the role, in Cartesian physics, of the distinction between motion and its determination.

46 Cf. Principles II, 40.

g See the figure for P20 [Fig. 25].

47 Spinoza interprets the principle of inertia as implying that bodies at rest have a resistance to motion. Cf. I/223/7. Descartes is not consistent on this point. Cf. Principles II, 43; the Letter to More of August 1649; the Letter to Morin of 13 July 1638; and Westfall, 69-72.

h See the figure for P20 [Fig. 25].

48 Cf. Principles II, 46. Note that Descartes prefaces his laws of impact with a warning that they are laws bodies would observe in ideal conditions, viz. if they were perfectly hard and isolated from other bodies which might impede or assist their motion (II, 45). Spinoza defers the warning to P31S. In 1665 Spinoza expressed only limited disagreement with Descartes’ laws (see the fragment of Letter 30 first published in Wolf 4). By 1676 he was prepared to be more critical (see Letter 81).

i See the figure for P27 [Fig. 26].

j See the figure for P27 [Fig. 26].

49 Descartes’ laws of impact are generally asserted without supporting arguments in the Latin version of the Principles. In the French version more of an attempt is made to justify them. Spinoza’s demonstrations show no sign of his having used the French version, though, as this demonstration illustrates, he does make use of the Dioptric.

50 Cf. Principles II, 47.

51 Following B.

52 This is not Descartes’ view of the matter. Cf. the Dioptric, ii (AT XI, 94) and Westfall, 66-67.

53 Cf. Principles II, 48.

54 B: body C; B errata: body B. The text of the EP frequently has ‘B’ where we might have expected ‘C’.

k See the figure for P27 [Fig. 26].

55 Cf. Principles II, 49.

56 This note, and the one immediately following P29, are set in smaller type in the first edition, indicating that they were additions made in proof. Cf. Letter 15.

l See the figure for P30 [Fig. 28].

57 EP and B both cite P17C, which cannot be right. Hubbeling (following Van Vloten and Land) emends to P27C.

58 Both EP and B have: “and partly be driven back by [B] in the opposite direction.” But this is neither what Descartes said (Principles I, 51) nor the conclusion Spinoza will reach at the end of the demonstration.

m See the figure for P30 [Fig. 28].

59 Cf. Principles I, 51. Descartes claims that if B approaches A with four degrees of speed, it will transfer one degree to A and be reflected with three degrees. This is the law to which Spinoza takes exception in Letters 30 and 32. It is difficult to see why the quantity of motion should be conserved in just that way.

60 Descartes remarks of this law, in the Latin version of the Principles, that it is so manifest as to require no proof, and in the French version, that the demonstrations of it are so certain that even if experience should seem to be against it, we should trust our reason more than our senses.

61 Cf. Principles II, 45, 53. Here Spinoza begins his version of Descartes’ account of the nature and properties of fluids (cf. Principles II, 56), a section which, according to Meyer, would have required further elaboration if a true second edition had been prepared (I/131/10-12). In Cartesian physics the difference between solid and fluid bodies is simply that the minute parts of fluids are already in motion, whereas the parts of solid bodies are at rest. Cf. Principles II, 54-55 (and Alquié’s notes thereto) and IIP37S.

62 Gebhardt (following EP) has ‘A29,’ which is impossible. Van Vloten and Land (following B) have ‘A20,’ as do AHMPS.

63 Cf. Principles II, 56.

64 In Principies II, 60, Descartes states the causal principle relied on here in somewhat less metaphysical terms than Spinoza does in IA8. But he emphasizes that it is “one of the chief things to be observed in philosophizing.”

65 See Principles II, 59.

n See P24, where it is demonstrated that two bodies expend their determination, but not their motion, in resisting one another.

1 Here Spinoza follows Principles III, 4 very closely. Cf. Letter 10. The ‘history’ of the phenomena in Descartes is a description of various features of the solar system, such as the distances and relative sizes of the sun, moon, planets, and fixed stars.

2 Cf. Principles III, 45. Descartes is there concerned to excuse his departure from the creationist account in the Bible.

3 Cf. the Discourse, ii, AT VI, 19.

4 Cf. Principles III, 42-44; IV, 204-206.

5 Cf. Principles III, 47.

6 Cf. Principles III, 46, 48.

7 Spinoza’s text does not reproduce fig. 31, which is here reproduced from AT VIII-1, 102.

8 Cf. IIP6.

9 Cf. Principles III, 56.

10 Cf. Principles III, 48.

11 Cf. Principles III, 50.

12 Cf. I/182/3f.

13 For this and the following proposition, cf. Principles III, 48.

a By the term Chimaera, here and in what follows, I understand that whose nature involves an explicit contradiction, as is explained more fully in Chapter 3.

1 The conception of imagination as involving an awareness of traces made in the brain by the animal spirits is Cartesian (cf. the Traité de l’Homme, AT XI, 174-177). But the notion that this awareness involves affirmation seems to be a Spinozistic deduction from Cartesian premises rather than anything Descartes explicitly maintained. Cf. the Letter of Mersenne of July 1641 and Curley 5.

2 Cf. Heereboord 2, 222 and 225. The doctrine that beings of reason are modes of thinking is in Suarez, 2:1016.

3 Heereboord would be among those open to this criticism. Cf. Heereboord 2, 222.

4 According to Freudenthal (3, 108), Thomas, Cajetan, and Suarez would be among those under attack here, whereas Heereboord (2, 225) would agree with Spinoza.

5 Cf. Descartes, Principles I, 61, and Gueroult 1, l:65n.

6 Cf. Suarez, Disp. 31, sec. 1, and Heereboord 2, 342-345.

7 Cf. Heereboord 2, 225

8 This distinction has been referred to Heereboord 2, 99. But the earlier scholastic distinction between what is necessary or impossible per se and what is necessary or impossible per accidens is clearly analogous, and Heereboord is clearly only reporting a common division. Cf. Aquinas, Summa theologiae 1a. 25, 4.

9 I.e., that the thing whose essence does not involve existence is not in the divine decree. Here, and in what follows, the doctrine is certainly not Cartesian, though Spinoza could claim, with some plausibility, to be deriving this denial of contingency from Cartesian premises (such as IA11, P12 and P12C1).

10 Cf. I/261-262 and I/170.

11 Cf. Descartes, Principles I, 55-57.

12 Cf. Descartes, Principles I, 58.

13 In Descartes the nearest approach to what follows seems to be in the Letter to Mersenne of 16 October 1639.

14 The doctrine that follows seems quite independent of Descartes.

15 2 Samuel 17:14.

16 B: “But since this striving is assumed to be something, it must also be called good, and therefore must in turn have a striving to persevere in its state, and this striving in turn another, and so on, to infinity.”

17 Cf. Descartes, who asserts in the Third Meditation that there is nothing merely potential in the idea of God. AT VII, 47.

1 In B, the beginning of this paragraph is revised as follows: “The chief attribute, which deserves consideration before all others, is God’s eternity, through which we explain his existence, in order not to confuse it with the existence of created things; for we cannot in any way explain his existence through duration, since duration is an affection of the existence and not of the essence of things (as was shown in the first part).”

2 Cf. Suarez, 2:922ff., and Descartes, AT V, 148-149.

3 Both these arguments may be found in Burgersdijk (I, vi). The first is discussed by Maimonides (1, I, lxxv) as one of the arguments of the Mutakallemim, but rejected by him in favor of arguments derived from the Aristotelian tradition.

4 The argument which follows goes back to Scotus, I, ii, 3. But the addition made in B suggests that Spinoza did not find it ultimately satisfactory. E IP31 suggests a reason why Spinoza would not find it satisfactory.

a For a fuller discussion of this, see IA9.

5 Cf. Burgersdijk, 267.

6 The principle is Cartesian, but similar arguments occur in Aquinas 1, I, 8, 1, and Suarez, 2:95-96.

7 Cf. Aquinas 1, I, 8, 3; Heereboord 2, 138.

8 Cf. Descartes, Letter to More, 15 April 1649; Aquinas 1, I, 25, 5.

9 Cf. IP17. See also the note at I/258/14.

10 So the EP would be translated. Gebhardt follows B, which would be translated: “wills, walks, displays anger …” Hubbeling appeals to I/256/28-31 in defense of the EP reading.

11 It is disputed whether Spinoza is speaking for himself here or for Descartes. Cf. Wolfson 1, 1:112-121, and Gueroult 1, 1:446-447. The argument is reminiscent of E IP12D. But note that in ‘proving’ God’s simplicity Spinoza refers us back to a proposition which was followed, not by a demonstration, but by a long, critical scholium.

12 The reference is apparently to 474a25: “life and the possession of soul depend on some degree of heat” (Hett). Cf. De anima 415a23-25.

13 The reference is in fact to Metaphysics XII, vii (1072b27-29), though as Appuhn notes, Aristotle does not appear to be offering a definition of life there.

14 Bidney, 97, questions whether this does not contradict I/248/4-5, and whether the same difficulty does not occur in the Ethics (between IP24 and IIIP7).

15 Zac, 19, refers this passage to one in Maimonides 2, 43. The scriptural reference is to Gen. 42:15-16.

b From this it clearly follows what God’s intellect, by which he understands created things, and his will and power by which he has determined them, are one and the same.

16 Cf. Suarez, 2:180.

17 B: “cannot be many.”

18Cf. II/101-102.

19 B: “intellect.”

20 Romans 9:11-12. The passage continues: “As it is written, ‘Jacob I loved, but Esau I hated.’” The prophecy to Rebekah occurs at Gen. 25:23. Relevent passages in Isaiah occur at 29:16 and 45:9.

21 Romans 9:18-21.

22 Spinoza here seems to adopt (ironically, in my view) the position of Maimonides which he will contest in the Theological-Political Treatise, vii, III/113ff. Certainly by the time he wrote that work he thought Scripture did teach things contrary to the natural light, e.g., that God is liable to passions, like jealousy (cf. TTP vii, III/100-101, and KV II, 24).

Nevertheless the passage here is sometimes taken as expressing Spinoza’s own view, e.g., by Caillois, Pléiade, 1417, and by Harris 1, 211. Cf. also IV/126/22ff.

23 1 Kings 13:2, 2 Kings 23:16.

24 Cf. Aquinas, Summa theologiae 1a, 25, 4 and 6. On the distinctions in God’s power, see 1a, 25, 5, and Suarez, Disp. XXX, sect, xvii, 32-36.

25 Cf. Aquinas, Summa theologiae 1a, 45, 1; Suarez, 1:745.

26 Cf. Heereboord 2, 49, 993-997.

27 The doctrine is Cartesian, of course, but as Freudenthal points out, was common among the scholastics. Cf., e.g., Aquinas, Summa theologiae I, 104, 1-2.

28 Suarez 1:749, ascribes this heresy to (among others) Plato, the Pythagoreans, the Peripatetics, and the Stoics.

29 Cf. Aquinas, Summa theologiae 1a, 46; Suarez, 1:779-785.

30 According to Freudenthal, these arguments come to Spinoza from Pereira, via Heereboord 2, 105-107.

31 It was presumably to the original version of this passage that Meyer took exception in the letter to which Letter 12a is a reply. When we compare the version we now have with the statement at issue in that correspondence, it appears that Meyer did take advantage of the permission given him by Spinoza to alter the passage so as to lessen the offense it might give to certain theologians.

32 B: “These [sc. men].”

33 The accuracy of the Scriptural chronology was a traditional problem in Jewish thought, since other civilizations claimed to have histories going back much further. Cf. Wolfson 2, 237-241. It also appears to have been one of the problems which concerned the small group of heterodox Jews with whom Spinoza associated at the time of his excommunication. Cf. Revah 2, 378.

34 Appuhn makes the passive reflexive: “nor can the will determine itself.” That makes sense of an otherwise very obscure passage.

35 Cf. E IP17S, and in particular the note to II/63/32. According to Heereboord 2, 964, the communicable attributes are those which in some way are also found in creatures (e.g., goodness, intellect, and will), the incommunicable are those which in no way are found in creatures (e.g., immensity, eternity).

36 Cf. I/33-34.

37 But cf. I/132/14-17.

38 I.e., by some form of propagation from the soul(s) of one or both of the parents. Cf. Heereboord 2, 61-64.

39 On the avoidance of definite articles in connection with corporeal (or extended) substance, see the note at I/179/10. Descartes does not consistently hold that there is only one corporeal substance (cf. AT VII, 44, 222-223), but the doctrine was apparently to be central to his proof of immortality (cf. AT VII, 12-14).

40 This is surely not Descartes’ doctrine. For though Descartes holds that the eternal truths (which include the laws of nature) are what they are because God has willed them, as a king establishes the laws of his kingdom, he denies that they are changeable, on the ground that God’s will cannot change. Cf. the letter to Mersenne of 15 April 1630, and Curley 10.

41 Note that when Descartes argues for the real distinction between mind and body, he contends that each can exist without the other “at least by the divine power” (AT VII, 170). The Ethics will deny any distinction between God’s power of acting and the laws of nature (II/138/11ff.).

42 Cf. Aquinas, Summa theologiae III, 4, 2.

43 Gebhardt has naturâ, but the EP has natura.

44 B: “indifference.”

45 Their ‘Master,’ of course, is Aristotle and Spinoza might have in mind a passage in the Rhetoric (1369al-4). But he might equally well be relying on a scholastic source, like Aquinas (e.g., Summa theologiae Ia, 59, 4). Cf. I/85/7ff.

46 See Heereboord 2, 713. But the first argument is equally a direct quote from Heereboord 2, 712-713. Descartes’ teaching concerning the will led to his being accused of Pelagianism, and in 1647 the curator of the University of Leiden forbade his name or doctrines to be mentioned, either favorably or unfavorably, in disputes there.

It is difficult to believe that Spinoza did not have considerable sympathy with the criticism of Descartes he purports to rebut here, though of course he could not accept the alternative that the will is determined by the last judgment of the practical intellect.

Letters

JULY 1664–SEPTEMBER 1665

EDITORIAL PREFACE

SPINOZA’S correspondence in this period is dominated by the figure of Willem van Blijenbergh (1632-1696), not, it must be admitted, one of Spinoza’s most acute correspondents. A grain broker by profession, van Blijenbergh was already an author himself when his reading of Descartes’ Principles and the Metaphysical Thoughts prompted him to write to Spinoza. In 1663 he had published a work whose title alone suggests how little he and Spinoza really had in common:

Theology and Religion defended against the views of Atheists, wherein it is shown by natural and clear arguments that God has implanted and revealed a Religion, that God wants to be worshipped in accordance with it, and that the Christian Religion not only agrees with the Religion revealed by God but also with the Reason which is implanted in us.

In 1674 he was to write a defense of the Christian religion and of the authority of Holy Scripture against the arguments of the irreligious—“a refutation of that blasphemous book called the Theological-Political Treatise.” In 1682 there followed a ‘refutation’ of the Ethics.

Van Blijenbergh is a tedious fellow, obscure, repetitious, and slow to see the point. His doctrine that Scripture must be the ultimate authority (IV/96-98) is not a very promising basis for discussion with Spinoza. But he is not an utter fool. Some of his difficulties arise from the fact that in the beginning he knows Spinoza only through a work which is primarily an exposition of the thought of Descartes. Although there are many hints in that work of Spinoza’s own position, it is much easier to see their implications if you know the Ethics, or the Short Treatise. In any case, the basic questions he raises are important: is there such a thing as evil? if so, how is it compatible with God’s creation and continual conservation of the world? what does it mean to say that evil is only a negation in relation to God? what sense can Spinoza attach to the traditional language of theology which he persists in using? how can we distinguish between Spinoza’s own views and Descartes’ in the geometrical demonstration and its appendix? what does Spinoza’s view about the relation between mind and body imply about the immortality of the soul? While we may sympathize with Spinoza for losing his patience with van Blijenbergh, we cannot help wishing that he had been as forthcoming and instructive in his answers to some of these questions as he was to others.

Apart from the philosophical interest these letters contain, they may also have had an important effect on Spinoza’s life. We know from occasional remarks in the correspondence that the bulk of the Ethics was written between about 1662 and 1665. A draft of Part I was evidently circulating by early 1663 (Letter 8) and a draft of the final part, called at that stage Part III, was nearly ready to circulate by June of 1665 (Letter 28). In mid-1663 Spinoza had interrupted his work on the Ethics to write Descartes’ Principles and the Metaphysical Thoughts, in the hope that this work would arouse interest in the Ethics and allow him to publish it safely (Letter 13). The reference to his Ethics as “not yet published” (Letter 23, IV/151) and the plans for a Dutch translation (Letter 28) suggest that by mid-1665 he was nearly ready to go ahead.

But the next letters in the correspondence, which are reserved for Volume II, indicate a change of focus. A lost letter to Oldenburg of 4 September 1665 prompts its recipient to remark that Spinoza is not so much philosophizing as theologizing: “You are recording your thoughts about Angels, prophecy and miracles. But perhaps you are doing this philosophically.” (Letter 29, IV/165) In the following letter Spinoza announces that he is writing a treatise on his judgment regarding Scripture. Among the reasons he gives for doing this are:

(1) The prejudices of the theologians, for I know of no greater obstacle to men’s applying their minds to philosophy.…

(2) The opinion ordinary people have of me. They never stop accusing me of atheism, and I am forced to rebut this accusation as much as I can.… (Letter 30, IV/166)

It will be years before we hear more of the Ethics in the correspondence.

Now why does Spinoza put to one side a treatise he thinks of as nearly finished in order to start on another, which, as it turns out, will take some five years to complete? Note that I am not asking “Why did Spinoza feel it worthwhile to write the Theological-Political Treatise at all?” The answer to that involves a complicated story, having much to do with political and social conditions in the Netherlands at that time.1 I ask, instead, “Why did Spinoza defer publication of the one (nearly finished) work until after he had published the other?” And I conjecture that the correspondence with van Blijenbergh may have been a factor, that Spinoza may have come to think that the time was not yet ripe for his Ethics, that another work was required which would help to further prepare the way for the Ethics by freeing people from their reliance on Scripture as a guide to the truth about speculative matters. If that was his motivation, then Spinoza badly misjudged his public. For the Theological-Political Treatise generated a storm which made publication of the Ethics virtually impossible, not easier.

Apart from van Blijenbergh, there are two other new correspondents in this period:

(1) Pieter Balling (b. ?; d. c. 1664-1669) was a Mennonite and the agent in Amsterdam of various Spanish merchants. As a result he knew Spanish well. That is one reason for the suspicion that Letter 17 may have been written originally in Spanish.2 A work entitled The Light on the Candlestick (1662), which “attacked dogmatism and advocated a simple religion based on the inward light of the soul,” has been attributed to him, but there is some doubt about the accuracy of this attribution.3 He was, in any case, the translator into Dutch of Descartes’ Principles and the Metaphysical Thoughts, and perhaps of other works as well.4

(2) Johannes Bouwmeester (1630-1680) was a close friend both of Lodewijk Meyer and of Spinoza. Trained in medicine and philosophy at the University of Leiden, he was a fellow member with Meyer of the society Nil volentibus arduum and codirector of the Amsterdam theater in 1677. On commission from that society he translated (from a Latin translation, not from the Arabic) Ibn Tophail’s novel, The Life of Hai Ibn Yokdan, a work which purported to show how one could attain knowledge of oneself and of God, without any association with other people or instruction.5

For Letters 17, 25, and 26 our only sources are the OP and the NS. In each of those cases I translate the OP text, as reproduced in Gebhardt. Letter 28 (a draft of the letter actually sent) was known to the editors of the OP, but omitted by them as being of no value, so our only source there is the draft itself, reproduced in Gebhardt.

For the correspondence with van Blijenbergh the situation is more complicated. The OP and NS published four letters from van Blijenbergh to Spinoza (18, 20, 22, and 24). Of these we possess autographs of the last three, which Gebhardt reproduces (not too exactly) at the top of the page, with the OP text underneath. In these cases I translate the autograph text, as emended by AHW. Gebhardt gives priority to the NS text of Letter 18, which is the text I translate.

There are also four letters from Spinoza to van Blijenbergh (19, 21, 23, and 27). Of these, we possess autographs of the last two. Gebhardt does not give priority to the autographs, since he takes Spinoza to be responsible for the Latin translation which appeared in the OP, but he does print them below the OP text. I translate Gebhardt’s autograph text, as emended by AHW. In the case of Letter 21 we are dependent on the OP and the NS. I translate the OP text, which is the only one Gebhardt reproduces. For Letter 19, our sources are the OP, the NS and François Halma, who published a copy of the original in De boekzaal der geleerde wereld, an eighteenth-century periodical. Since Halma also published a copy of Letter 27, of which we possess an autograph, we can establish that his work was trustworthy. I translate Halma’s text, which Gebhardt reproduces below the OP text. For Letter 27, I translate the autograph text, though Gebhardt gives priority to the OP text.

[IV/76] LETTER 17
B. D. S. TO THE VERY LEARNED AND PRUDENT PIETER BALLING
Version1

Dear friend,

Your last letter, written, if I am not mistaken, on the 26th of last month, has reached me safely. It has caused me no little sadness and anxiety, though that has greatly decreased as I consider the prudence [10] and strength of character with which you are able to scorn the blows of fortune, or rather opinion, when they attack you with their strongest weapons. For all that, my anxiety increases daily, and therefore by our friendship I beseech and implore you to take the trouble to write to me at length.

[15] As for the omens you mention—that when your child was still healthy and well, you heard sighs like those he made when he was ill and shortly afterwards passed away—I should think that this was not a true sigh, but only your imagination. For you say that when you sat up and set yourself to listen, you did not hear them so clearly as [20] before, or as afterwards, when you had gone back to sleep. Surely this shows that those sighs were only sheer imagination, which, when it was unfettered and free, was able to imagine certain sighs more effectively and vividly than when you sat up to focus your hearing on a certain place.

I can confirm, and at the same time explain, what I say here by an [25] incident that happened to me last winter in Rijnsburg.2 One morning, as the sky was already growing light, I woke from a very deep dream to find that the images which had come to me in my dream remained before my eyes as vividly as if the things had been true—especially [the image] of a certain black, scabby Brazilian whom I had never seen [IV/77] before. For the most part this image disappeared when, to divert myself with something else, I fixed my eyes on a book or some other object. But as soon as I turned my eyes back away from such an object without fixing my eyes attentively on anything, the same image of the [5] same Black man appeared to me with the same vividness, alternately, until it gradually disappeared from my visual field.

I say that the same thing which happened to me in my internal sense of vision happened to you in hearing. But since the cause was very different, your case, but not mine, was an omen. You will understand this clearly from what follows.

[10] The effects of the imagination arise from the constitution either of the Body or of the Mind. To avoid being tedious, I shall prove this for now by experience alone. We find by experience that fevers and other corporeal changes are causes of madness, and that those whose blood is thick imagine nothing but quarrels, troubles, killings, and [15] things like these. We see that the imagination is also determined by the constitution of the soul alone; for as we find by experience, it follows the traces of the intellect in everything and links its images and words together in order, as the intellect does its demonstrations, so that we can hardly understand anything of which the imagination [20] does not form some image from a trace.

Because of this, I say, none of the effects of the imagination which proceed from corporeal causes can ever be omens of future things, because their causes do not involve any future things. But the effects of the imagination (or the images which have their origin in the constitution [25] of the Mind) can be omens of a future thing, because the Mind can confusedly be aware, beforehand, of something which is future. Hence it can imagine it as firmly and vividly as if a thing of that kind were present.

To take an example like yours, a father so loves his son that he and his beloved son are, as it were, one and the same. According to what [30] I have demonstrated on another occasion, there must be in thought an idea of the son’s essence, its affections, and its consequences. Because of this, and because the father, by the union he has with his son, is a part of the said son, the father’s soul must necessarily participate in the son’s ideal essence, its affections, and consequences (as I have demonstrated [35] elsewhere at greater length).

[IV/78] Next, since the father’s soul participates ideally in the things which follow from the son’s essence, he (as I have said) can sometimes imagine something of what follows from [the son’s] essence as vividly as if he had it in his presence—if, at least, the following conditions concur: [5] (i) If the incident which will happen to the son in the course of his life will be remarkable; (ii) if it will be of the kind that we can imagine very easily; (iii) if the time when this incident will happen is not very remote; and finally (iv) if his body is not only well constituted as regards health, but also free and void of all cares and troubles that disturb the senses externally.

[10] It can also be of assistance in this if we think of those things which for the most part arouse ideas like these. For example, if, while we are speaking with this or that man, we hear sighs, it will generally happen that when we think again of that same man, the sighs we heard when we spoke with him will come into our memory.

[15] This, dear friend, is my opinion about the Problem you raise. I confess I have been very brief, but intentionally, so that I might give you an occasion for writing back to me at the first opportunity, etc.
Voorburg, 20 July 1664

[IV/79] LETTER 18
WILLEM VAN BLIJENBERGH TO THE DISTINGUISHED B. D. S.

Sir and unknown friend,

I have now had the honor of reading through, frequently and attentively, your recently published Treatise, together with its Appendix.3 It will be more proper for me to express to someone else, rather than [10] yourself, the great solidity I have found there and the satisfaction I have received from this reading. But I cannot refrain from saying that the more often I run through it attentively, the more it pleases me. I continually find something there I had not noticed before. However, [15] having no wish to seem a flatterer, I do not want to marvel too much at the author in this letter. I know what price in toil the gods exact for what they give.4

But lest I keep you wondering too long who it is, and how it happens [IV/80] that someone unknown dares to take such liberty in writing to you, I shall tell you that he is one who, driven only by a desire for pure truth in this short and transitory life, strives to plant his feet [5] firmly in knowledge, as far as the human intellect allows, someone who, in his search for truth, has no other end than the truth, who seeks to acquire, by science, neither honor nor riches, but only truth, and peace of mind as an effect of truth, who, among all truths and [10] sciences, takes pleasure in none more than in those of Metaphysics (if not in all of it, then at least in some of its parts), and who finds his whole life’s pleasure in devoting what free time he has to its study. (But not everyone is so fortunate, or not everyone is so industrious as [15] I imagine you to be, and so not everyone attains the level of perfection I see already in your work.) In a word, it is one whom you will be able to know better, if you are willing to oblige him so much as to help open and pierce through his tangled thoughts.

But to return to your Treatise. As I have found many things in it [20] which were very palatable to me, so also have I found some I could [IV/81] not easily digest. Not knowing you, it would not be right for me to object to them, all the more because I do not know whether this will be pleasing to you or not. So I send this ahead, to ask whether, on [5] these winter evenings, you will have the time and the disposition to oblige me so much as to answer the difficulties I still find in your Book, and whether you will let me send you some of them, though on the condition that it should not hinder you in your more necessary and pleasant pursuits.

[10] For above all else I want what is promised in your Book, a fuller publication of your own views. (I would rather have communicated to you in person what I at last entrust to writing, but first my ignorance of where you lived, then the epidemic, and finally my profession have [15] caused me to keep postponing a visit to you.)

But that this letter may not be entirely empty, and in the hope that it will be agreeable to you, I shall present only this one [difficulty] here. Both in the Principles and in the Metaphysical Thoughts you generally [20] maintain—whether as your own opinion or to explain M. Descartes, [IV/82] whose Philosophy you were teaching—that creation and preservation are one and the same thing (which is so clear in itself, for those who have thought about it, that it is a first notion) and that God [5] has created not only substances, but also the motions in substances, i.e., that God not only preserves substances in their state by a continuous creation, but also preserves their motion and striving. For example, God not only makes the Soul exist longer and persevere in its state by his immediate willing or activity (whichever one is pleased to [10] call it), but that he also stands in a like relation to the motion of the Soul, i.e., as God’s continuous creation makes things exist longer, so also the striving or motion of things happens in them by the same [15] cause, since outside God there is no cause of motion. So it follows that God is the cause not only of the Soul’s substance, but also of the Soul’s every Motion or Striving, which we call will, as you maintain throughout.

From this assertion it also seems to follow necessarily, either that [20] there is no evil in the Soul’s motion or will, or else that God himself does that evil immediately. For the things we call evil also happen [IV/83] through the Soul, and consequently through such an immediate influence and concurrence of God. For example, Adam’s Soul wants to eat the forbidden fruit. According to the proposition above, that will of Adam happens through God’s influence—not only that [Adam] wills, [5] but that he wills in this way, as will be shown immediately. So either Adam’s forbidden act is no evil in itself, insofar as God not only moved his will, but also moved it in such a way, or else God himself seems to do what we call evil.

Nor does it seem to me that either you or M. Descartes solve this [10] problem by saying that evil is a nonbeing [I/262/20], with which God does not concur. For where, then, did the will to eat come from? Or the Devil’s will to pride? As you rightly note [I/279/28], the will is not something different from the Soul, but is this or that motion or striving [15] of the Soul. Hence, it has as much need of God’s concurrence for the one motion as for the other.

Now as I understand it from your writings [I/274/14ff.?], God’s concurrence is nothing but a determining of the thing in this or that way by his will. It follows, then, that God concurs with (that is, determines) the evil will, insofar as it is evil, as much as the good. For [20] his will, which is an absolute cause of everything that exists, both in [IV/84] the substance and in the striving, seems then to be also a first cause of the evil will insofar as it is evil.

Next, there is no determination of the will in us which God has not [5] known from eternity (unless we ascribe an imperfection to God). But how did God know those determinations except from his decrees? Therefore, his decrees are causes of our determinations. So it seems again to follow either that the evil will is no evil, or that God causes that evil immediately.

[10] And here the Theologians’ distinction between the act and the evil adhering to the act cannot be applied. For God has decreed not only the deed, but also the manner of the deed, i.e., God has decreed not only that Adam shall eat, but also that he shall necessarily do so contrary to the command. So again it seems to follow either that Adam’s eating the apple contrary to the command is no evil, or that God [15] himself caused it.

For the present, Worthy Sir, I mention only this, of the things I cannot penetrate in your Treatise. For the extremes on both sides are hard to maintain. But I expect from your penetrating judgment and [20] diligence a reply that will satisfy me, and I hope to show you in the [IV/85] future how much you will thereby put me under obligation to you.

Be assured, Worthy Sir, that I ask these things only from a desire for the truth, not from any other Interest. I am a free person, not [5] dependent on any profession, supporting myself by honest trade and devoting my spare time to these matters. I also humbly ask you to find pleasure in my difficulties, and if you are of a mind to write me the answer I look forward to so anxiously, please write to W.v.B. etc. [10] Meanwhile, I shall be and remain, sir,

Your devoted servant,
Willem van Blijenbergh

Dordrecht, 12 December 1664

[IV/86] LETTER 19
B. D. S. TO THE VERY LEARNED AND PRUDENT WILLEM VAN BLIJENBERGH

Reply to the preceding

Sir, and very welcome friend,

I did not receive your letter of the 12th (enclosed with another of [20] the 21st of December) until the 26th of that month, while I was at Schiedam. From it I learned of your great love for the truth, and that it alone is the object of all your inclinations. Since I too aim at nothing else, this made me resolve not only to grant completely your request (that I should be willing to answer, to the best of my ability, the [25] questions you send now and will send in the future), but also to do everything on my part to bring us to a closer acquaintance and genuine friendship.

To me, of the things outside my power, I esteem none more than [IV/87] being allowed the honor of entering into a pact of friendship with people who sincerely love the truth; for I believe that of things outside [20] our power we can love none tranquilly, except such people. Because the love they bear to one another is based on the love each has for knowledge of the truth, it is as impossible to destroy it as not to embrace the truth once it has been perceived. Moreover, it is the greatest [25] and most pleasant that can be given to things outside our power, since nothing but truth can completely unite different opinions and minds. I shall not describe the very considerable advantages which follow from it, so as not to detain you longer with things you undoubtedly [30] well know yourself. I have done so up to now, the better to show how pleasant it is to me, and will be in the future, to be allowed the opportunity to show my ready service.

To seize the moment, I shall try to answer your question, which [35] turns on this: it seems clearly to follow, both from god’s providence, [IV/88] which does not differ from his will, and from his concurrence and continuous creation of things, either that there are no sins and no evil, [20] or that god does those sins and that evil. But you do not explain what you mean by evil. As far as I can see from the example of Adam’s determinate will, it appears that by evil you understand the will itself insofar as one conceives it to be determined in such a way, or insofar as it [25] would be contrary to god’s prohibition. And therefore it seems a great absurdity (as I too would grant, if it were so) to maintain either of these, i.e., that god himself produced things that were contrary to his will, or that they would be good, notwithstanding the fact that they were contrary to god’s will. But for myself, I cannot grant that sins [30] and evil are something positive, much less that something would exist or happen contrary to god’s will. On the contrary, I say not only that sin is not something positive, but also that when we say that we sin against god, we are speaking inaccurately, or in a human way, as we do when we say that men anger god.

[35] For regarding the first [that sin and evil are not something positive], [IV/89] we know that whatever there is, considered in itself, without relation to any other thing, involves perfection, which always extends, in each thing, as far as the thing’s essence does. For essence is nothing other [20] [than perfection]. As an example, I too take Adam’s decision, or determinate will, to eat the forbidden fruit. That decision, or determinate will, considered only in itself, involves as much perfection as it expresses of essence. We can understand this from the fact we can [25] conceive no imperfection in things unless we consider others which have more essence. Therefore, we will be able to find no imperfection in Adam’s decision, if we consider it in itself, without comparing it with others which are more perfect, or show a more perfect state. Indeed, we can compare it with infinitely many other things which [30] are much more imperfect in relation to that, such as stones, logs, etc. And in fact everyone grants this. For the same things we detest in men, and look on with aversion there, we all look on with admiration and pleasure in animals. For example, the warring of bees, the jealousy [35] of doves, etc. We detest these things in men, but we judge animals [IV/90] more perfect because of them. This being so, it follows clearly that sins, because they indicate nothing but imperfection, cannot consist in something that expresses essence, as Adam’s decision or its execution do.

Furthermore [regarding the second, that nothing exists or happens contrary to god’s will], we also cannot say that Adam’s will was in [25] conflict with god’s will, and that it was, therefore, evil, because it was displeasing to god. For apart from the fact that it would posit a great imperfection in god if anything happened contrary to his will, or if he wished for something he did not get, or if his nature were so limited that, like his creatures, he had sympathy with some things and an [30] antipathy for others—apart from all that, it would be completely contrary to the nature of god’s will. For because it does not differ from his intellect, it is as impossible for something to happen contrary to his will as it would be for something to happen contrary to his intellect. I.e., what would happen contrary to his will must be of such a nature that it conflicts with his intellect, like a square circle.

[35] So because the will or decision of Adam, considered in itself, was [IV/91] not evil, nor, properly speaking, contrary to god’s will, it follows that god can be its cause—indeed, according to the reasoning you call attention to, he must be—but not insofar as it was evil, for the evil that was in it was only a privation of a more perfect state, which Adam had to [25] lose through that act. It is certain that privation is nothing positive, and that it is said only in relation to our intellect, not in relation to god’s intellect. This arises because we express all the singular things of a kind (e.g., all those which have, externally, the shape of man) by [30] one and the same definition, and therefore we judge them all to be equally capable of the highest perfection which we can deduce from such a definition. When we find one whose acts are contrary to that perfection, we judge him to be deprived of it and to be deviating from [35] his nature. We would not do this, if we had not brought him under such a [IV/92] definition and fictitiously ascribed such a nature to him. But because god does not know things abstractly, and does not make such general definitions, because he does not attribute more essence to things than the divine intellect and power endow them with, and in fact give them, it [20] follows clearly that that privation can be said only in relation to our intellect, not in relation to god’s. By this, in my opinion, the problem is completely solved.

But to make the path smooth and to remove every objection, I must still answer the two following questions: (1) Why does Scripture say [25] that god wants the godless to repent, and why did he forbid Adam to eat of the tree when he had decided the opposite? (2) From what I say, it seems to follow that the godless, with their pride, greed, despair, etc., serve god as well as the pious do, with their legitimate self-esteem, [30] patience, love, etc., because they also follow god’s will.

To answer the first, I say that scripture, since it is intended mainly to serve ordinary people, continually speaks in a human fashion. For the people are not capable of understanding high matters. Therefore, I believe that [35] all the things which god has revealed to the prophets to be necessary [IV/93] for salvation are written in the manner of laws. And in this way the prophets wrote a whole parable. First, because god had revealed the [20] means to salvation and destruction, and was the cause of them, they represented him as a king and lawgiver. The means, which are nothing but causes, they called laws and wrote in the manner of laws. Salvation and destruction, which are nothing but effects which follow [25] from the means, they represented as reward and punishment. They have ordered all their words more according to this parable than according to the truth. Throughout they have represented god as a man, now angry, now merciful, now longing for the future, now seized by jealousy and suspicion, indeed even deceived by the devil. So the [30] Philosophers, and with them all those who are above the law, i.e., who follow virtue not as a law, but from love, because it is the best thing, should not be shocked by such words.

The prohibition to Adam, then, consisted only in this: god revealed to Adam that eating of that tree caused death, just as he also reveals [35] to us through the natural intellect that poison is deadly to us. And if [IV/94] you ask for what purpose he revealed it to him, I answer: to make him [20] that much more perfect in knowledge. So to ask god why he did not also give him a more perfect will is as absurd as to ask him why he did not give the circle all the properties of the sphere. This follows clearly from what is said above; I have also demonstrated it in IP15S [of Descartes’ Principles].

[25] As for the second difficulty, it is indeed true that the godless express God’s will in their fashion. But they are not on that account to be compared with the pious. For the more perfection a thing has, the more it has of godliness, and the more it expresses God’s perfection. [30] So since the pious have inestimably more perfection than the godless, their virtue cannot be compared with that of the godless. They lack the love of God which comes from knowledge of God and through which alone we are said, according to our human understanding, to be servants of God. Indeed, since they do not know God, they are [35] nothing but a tool in the hand of the master, that serves unknowingly, [IV/95] and is consumed in serving. The pious, on the other hand, serve knowingly, and become more perfect by serving.

[5] That, Sir, is all that I can now say in answer to your question. I wish for nothing more than that it may satisfy you. But if you still find some difficulty, I ask you to let me know it, to see whether I can remove it. For your part, you need not hesitate, but as long as it seems [10] to you that you are not satisfied, I want nothing more than to know the reasons for it, so that the truth may finally become evident.

I wish that I could write you in the language in which I was raised.5 Perhaps I could express my thoughts better. Please excuse it, correct [15] the mistakes yourself, and consider me

Your devoted Friend and Servanat,
B. de Spinoza

The Long Orchard
5 January 1665

I shall be at this address three or four weeks longer, and then I intend to return to Voorburg. I believe that I shall receive an answer from you before then, but if your occupations do not permit it, please write to Voorburg at the following address: To be delivered in the church lane, at the house of Mr. Daniel Tydeman, the painter.

[IV/96] LETTER 20
TO THE VERY DISTINGUISHED B. D. S. WILLEM VAN BLIJENBERGH

Reply to the Preceding

Sir and worthy friend,

When I first received your letter and read through it quickly, I intended not only to reply immediately, but also to criticize many [10] things in it. But the more I read it, the less I found to object to in it. My pleasure in reading it was as great as my longing to see it had been.

Before I proceed to ask you to resolve certain other difficulties, you should know that I have two general rules according to which I always [15] try to philosophize: the clear and distinct conception of my intellect and the revealed word, or will, of God. According to the one I strive to be a lover of truth, according to the other, a Christian philosopher. [IV/97] Whenever it happens, after a long investigation, that my natural knowledge either seems to contradict this word, or is not easily reconciled with it, this word has so much authority with me that I suspect [5] the conceptions I imagine to be clear, rather than put them above and against the truth I think I find prescribed to me in that book. And no wonder, since I want to persist steadfastly in the belief that that word is the word of God, i.e., that it has proceeded from the highest [10] and most perfect God, who contains many more perfections than I can conceive, and who perhaps has willed to predicate of himself and of his works more perfections than I, with my finite intellect, can conceive today. I say ‘can conceive today,’ for it is possible that through my own action I have deprived myself of a greater perfection, and [15] therefore that, if I perhaps had that perfection of which I have been deprived by my own action, I would be able to conceive that everything that is presented and taught to us in that word agrees with the soundest conceptions of my mind. But since I now suspect myself of [20] having deprived myself of a better state through continued error, and since, as you maintain (Principles IP15), even our clearest knowledge [IV/98] still involves some imperfection, I rather incline toward that word, even without reason, merely on the ground that it has proceeded from the most perfect being (I presuppose this now, because the proof of it would be out of place or would take too long) and therefore I must [5] accept it.

If I should now judge your letter only by the guidance of my first rule, excluding the second, as if I did not have it, or as if it did not exist, I would have to grant a great many things (as I do, too) and [10] admire your penetrating Conceptions. But the second rule causes me to differ more from you. Within the limits imposed by a letter I shall examine your conceptions under the guidance of each of these rules.

First, according to the former rule, I have asked whether, from your [15] doctrines that creation and preservation are one and the same, and that God makes, not only things, but also the motions and modes of things, to persevere in their state (i.e., concurs with them), it does not seem to follow that there is no evil or that God himself does evil, relying [20] on this rule, that nothing can happen contrary to God’s will, otherwise it would involve an imperfection, or else the things God does (among [IV/99] which seem to be included those we call evil) would also have to be evil? But this also involves a Contradiction. However I turned, I could not avoid a Contradiction. Therefore I had recourse to you, who should [5] be the best interpreter of your own Conceptions.

In reply you say that you persist in that first presupposition, namely, that nothing happens, or can happen, contrary to God’s will. But then to the difficulty, whether God then does evil or not, you say that sin is [10] nothing positive, but also that we can only very improperly be said to sin against God. And in I, vi, of the Appendix, you say that “there is no absolute evil, as is manifest through itself.”6 But whatever exists, considered in itself, without relation to any other thing, involves perfection, which always extends [15] as far, in each thing, as the thing’s essence. Therefore it clearly follows that because sins denote nothing but imperfections, they cannot consist in something that expresses essence. If sin, evil, error, or whatever you please to call it, is nothing but the loss or the privation of a more perfect state, it [20] seems to follow, doesn’t it, that existing is neither an evil nor an imperfection, but that something evil can arise in the existing thing. For [IV/100] what is perfect will not lose a more perfect state through an equally perfect act, but through the fact that we incline toward something imperfect, because we do not sufficiently use the power given to us. [5] This you seem to call, not an evil, but a lesser good, because the things considered in themselves involve perfection. Furthermore, because, as you say, no more essence belongs to the things than the divine intellect and power have ascribed to them, and in fact given them, and therefore they can display no [10] more existence in their actions than they have received essence. For if I can bring about neither greater nor lesser acts than I have received existence,7 there can be no privation of a more perfect state. For if nothing happens contrary to God’s will, and if only as much happens as essence [15] has been given for, in what conceivable way can there be an evil, which you call the privation of a better state? How can anyone lose a more perfect state through an act so determined and dependent? So it seems to me that you must maintain one of two things: either [20] there is an evil, or if there is no evil, that there can be no privation of a better state. For that there is no evil, and that there is privation of [IV/101] a better state, seems to me to be a Contradiction.

But you will say, that in privation we decline from a more perfect state to a lesser good, not to an absolute evil. Still, you have taught me (Appendix I, iii) that we must not quarrel over words. So, whether [5] or not it may be called an absolute evil, I am not now disputing, but only whether the decline from a better to a worse state is not called by us, and may not rightly be called, a more evil state, or a state which is evil.

[10] But you will say that this evil state still contains much good. Still, I ask whether that man, who, through his imprudent act, caused the privation of a more perfect state, and consequently is now less than he was before, may not be called evil.

[15] To escape the above reasoning, since some difficulties still seem to remain concerning it, you say that there is indeed evil, and that there was indeed evil in Adam, but that it is not something positive, and is said only in relation to our intellect, and not in relation to God’s intellect; that that [evil] [20] is a privation in relation to us,8 but a negation in relation to God.

[IV/102] But let us examine here whether what you call evil, if it were evil only in relation to us, would be no evil, and next, whether evil, considered as what you maintain it to be, must be called only a negation in relation to God.

[5] The first question I seem to have already answered, to some extent, in what I said above. And though I granted that being less perfect than another being can posit no evil in me, because I can demand no better state from the creator, and it makes me differ only in degree, nevertheless I will not on that account be able to grant that, if I am [10] now more imperfect than I was before, and if I have brought this on myself through my own misdeed, I am not to that extent worse. I must acknowledge that I am worse. I.e., if I consider myself before I ever declined into imperfection, and compare myself then with others [15] who have more perfection than I, then that lesser perfection is no evil, but a lesser degree of good. But if I compare myself after I have declined from a more perfect state, and have deprived myself, through my own imprudence, of my first form, with which I came forth from the hand of my creator, in a more perfect form, then I must judge [20] myself to be more evil than before. For it was not the creator, but I [IV/103] myself, who brought me to this state. As you acknowledge, I had enough power to restrain myself from error.

The second question is whether evil, which you maintain to consist [5] in the privation of a better state, which not only Adam, but all of us have lost, by a hasty and disorderly act, whether in relation to God that evil is only a negation? To examine this soundly, we must see how you conceive of man and make him dependent on God before all error, and how you conceive of the same man after error.

[10] Before error you describe him as having no more essence than the divine intellect and power attributed to him, and in fact gave him. I.e., unless I misunderstand you, man can have neither more nor less perfection than God has endowed him with essence. That is to make [15] man dependent on God in the way the elements, stones, and plants are. But if that is your opinion, I cannot understand what is meant by the following:

Now, since the will is free to determine itself, it follows that we do have the power to contain our faculty of assenting within the limits of the intellect, [20] and so can bring it about that we do not fall into error.9

Does this not seem a contradiction, to make the will so free that it can [IV/104] restrain itself from error, and at the same time to make it so dependent on God that it can manifest neither more nor less perfection than God has given it essence?

[5] As for how you conceive of man after error, there you say that man has deprived himself of a more perfect state by a too hasty deed, namely, by not restraining his will within the limits of his intellect. But it seems to me that here (as also in the Principles) you ought to have shown in more detail the two extremes of this privation: what he [10] possessed before the privation and what he retained after the loss of that perfect condition (as you call it). You say what we have lost, but not what we have retained:

So the whole imperfection of error will consist solely in the privation of the best liberty, which is called error.10

[15] Let us examine both of these, as you maintain them.

You hold not only that there are such different modes of thinking in us, that we call some willings and others understandings, but also that between these there is such an order that we must not will things without first having a clear understanding of them. [OP: you affirm [20] also that] if we keep our will within the limits of our intellect, we shall never err, and finally that it is within our power to keep the will [IV/105] within the limits of the intellect.

When I reflect seriously on this, certainly one of two things must be true: either everything that has been maintained is a fiction, or else God has impressed this same order on us. But if God has impressed [5] that order on us, would it not be absurd to say that it happened for no purpose, and that God does not want us to have to observe and follow that order? For that would posit a contradiction in God. And if we must practice the order placed in us, how can we then be and [10] remain so dependent on God? For if no one has more or less perfection than he has received essence, and this power must be known from its effects, he who lets his will go beyond the limits of his intellect did not receive so much power from God, or else he would also put it into [15] effect. Consequently, he who errs must not have received from God the perfection of not being able to err, or he would never err. For according to what you maintain, there is always as much essence given as there is perfection produced.

Next, if God has given us so much essence that we are able to [20] maintain that order, as you hold that we can maintain it, and if we always produce as much perfection as we have essence, how does it [IV/106] happen that we transgress that order? How does it happen that we can transgress it, and that we do not always restrain the will within the limits of the intellect?

Thirdly, if, as I have shown above that you hold, I am so dependent [5] on God that I can restrain the will neither within, nor outside the intellect, unless God has first given me just so much essence, and has, through his will, first determined one or the other, how, if we consider this thoroughly, can I ever use this freedom of the will? Indeed, doesn’t it seem to posit a Contradiction in God, that he should give us an [10] order to restrain our will within the limits of our intellect, and not give us enough essence or perfection that we can put it into effect? And if, on your view, he has given us so much perfection, certainly we could never err. For we must produce as much perfection as we [15] have essence, and always display the power we are given in our actions. But our errors are a proof that we do not have such a power that is so dependent on God as you hold. So one of these two must be true, either that we are not so dependent on God, or that we do [20] not have in us the power of being able not to err. But on your view we have the power of not erring. Therefore, we can not be so dependent.

[IV/107] From what has been said, it seems to me now clear that it is impossible that evil, or being deprived of a better state, should be a negation in relation to God. For what is meant by being deprived, or losing a more perfect state? Is it not passing from more to less perfection, [5] and consequently, from more to less existence,11 and being placed by God in a certain measure of perfection and essence? Is that not to will that we can acquire no other state without his perfect knowledge, unless he had decided and willed otherwise? Is it possible that this [10] creature, produced by that omniscient and perfect being, who willed that it retain such a state of essence, indeed, a creature with which God is continually concurring to maintain it in that essence—is it possible that such a creature should decline in essence, i.e., become less perfect without God’s knowledge? This seems to me to involve an [15] absurdity.

Is it not absurd to say that Adam lost a more perfect state, and consequently was incapable of the order God had put in his soul, and that God had no knowledge of that loss and of that imperfection, no knowledge of how much perfection Adam had lost? Is it conceivable [20] that God would constitute a being so dependent that it would only [IV/108] produce such an action, and that then [this being] should lose a more perfect state through that action (of which, moreover, [God] would be an absolute cause) and that God should have no knowledge of it?

I grant that there is a distinction between the act and the evil adhering [5] to the act. But I cannot conceive that “evil in relation to God is a negation,” that God would know the act, determine it, concur with it, and yet that he would not know the evil that is in that act, nor know what outcome it would have. That seems to me to be impossible in God.

[10] Note, with me, that God concurs with my act of procreation with my wife, for that is something positive, and consequently, he has a clear knowledge of it. But insofar as I misuse that act with another woman, contrary to my promise and oath, evil accompanies that act. [15] What would be negative here in relation to God? Not that I perform that act of procreation, for insofar as it is something positive, God concurs with it. So the evil that accompanies the act must be only that, contrary to my agreement, or else to God’s prohibition, I do it with such a woman, with whom such an act is not allowed. But is it [20] really conceivable that God should know our actions, that he should concur with them, and that he should not know with whom we engage [IV/109] in those actions (particularly since God also concurs with the act of that woman with whom I transgress)? It seems hard to think this of God.

Consider the act of killing. Insofar as it is a positive act, God concurs [5] with it. But the effect of that act, i.e., the dissolution of a being and the destruction of God’s creature, he would not know—as if he did not know his own effects. (I fear that here I must not properly understand your meaning, for your conceptions seem to me too penetrating for you to commit such a grave error.)

[10] Perhaps you will reply that all those acts, as I represent them, are simply good, and that no evil accompanies them. But then I cannot grasp what it is that you call evil, on which the privation of a more perfect state follows. Also the whole world would then be put in an [15] eternal and lasting confusion, and we men would be made like the beasts. Just see what advantage such an opinion would bring the world.

You also reject the usual definition of man, but want to ascribe to each man only as much perfection of action as God in fact has given [20] him to exercise. But then I can’t see that you don’t maintain that the godless serve God with their acts as well as the godly do. Why? Because [IV/110] neither of them can perform actions more perfect than they have been given essence for, and than they show through their effects. And it doesn’t seem to me that you answer this question satisfactorily when you say:

[5] The more perfection a thing has, the more it has of godliness and the more it expresses God’s perfection. So since the pious have inestimably more perfection than the godless, their virtue cannot be compared with that of the godless … for the latter, like a tool in the hand of the master, serve unknowingly and are consumed in serving. The pious, on the other hand, serve knowingly [10] and are consumed in serving.12

This, however, is true of both, that they cannot do more. For the more perfection the one displays in comparison with the other, the more essence he has received in comparison with the other. Don’t the godless, then, serve God with their slight perfection as much as the [15] godly do? For on your view, God wants no more of the godless, otherwise he would have given them more essence. But he hasn’t given them more essence, as is evident from the effects. Therefore, he wants no more of them. And if each of them, in his species, does neither [20] more nor less than God wills, why should those who do less, but still as much as God desires of them, not please God as well as the godly?

[IV/111] Moreover, as on your view, we lose a more perfect state, by our imprudence, through the evil which accompanies the act, so you also seem to want to maintain that, by restraining our will within the limits [5] of our intellect, we not only remain as perfect as we are, but that we also become more perfect by serving. It seems to me to involve a contradiction, if we are so dependent on God that we can do neither more nor less than we have been given essence for, i.e., than God has [10] willed, and yet we can become worse through imprudence or better through prudence. So far as I can see, if man is as you describe him, the godless serve God with their actions as much as the godly do with theirs. And in this way, we are made as dependent on God as the [15] elements, Plants, stones, etc. What use is our intellect to us? What use, then, is that power of restraining our will within the limits of our understanding? Why has that order been impressed on us?

Consider, on the other side, what we deprive ourselves of, viz. the [20] anxious and serious meditation aimed at making ourselves perfect according to the rule of God’s perfection and according to the order he [IV/112] has impressed on us. We deprive ourselves of prayer and aspiration toward God, by which we have so often felt that we received extraordinary strength. We deprive ourselves of all religion, and all that hope, [5] all that satisfaction which await us from prayer and religion. For surely if God has no knowledge of evil, it is hardly credible that he will punish evil. What reason do I have for not eagerly committing all sorts of knavery (provided I can escape the judge). Why not enrich myself [10] through abominable means? Why should I not do, without making any distinction, whatever I like and the flesh inclines me towards?

You will say: because we must love virtue for its own sake. But how can I love virtue? So much essence and perfection has not been given me. And if I can take as much satisfaction from the one as from [15] the other, why should I make the effort to restrain my will within the limits of the intellect? Why not do what my passions lead me to? Why not secretly kill the man who gets in my way? See what an opening we give to all the godless, and to godlessness. We make ourselves like [20] logs, and all our actions just like the movements of a clock.

[IV/113] From what has been said, it seems to me that it is very hard to maintain that we can only improperly be said to sin against God. For what, then, is the significance of that power which is given to us to restrain our will within the limits of our intellect, so that when we [5] transgress it, we sin against that order?

Perhaps you will say: that is no sin against God, but only something against ourselves, for if we were properly said to sin against God, then we would also have to say that something happens contrary to God’s will. But that is impossible, on your view. Hence, sin is impossible [10] too. One of these two must be true: either that God wills that or that he does not will it. But if God wills it, how can it be evil in relation to us? And if he does not will it, then, on your view, it would not happen.

But though this, on your view, involves some absurdity, to admit, [15] for that reason, all the absurdities mentioned above seems very dangerous to me. Who knows whether, if we spent much meditation on it, we would not find an expedient to reconcile this in some measure?

With this I will conclude my examination of your letter according to the guidance of my first general rule. But before I pass to examining [20] it according to the second rule, I will mention here two more things which concern this Conception in your letter, both maintained by you in your Principles IP15.

[IV/114] First, you “affirm that we can retain the power of willing and judging within the limits of the intellect.”13 But I cannot absolutely grant this. For if that were true, then certainly, out of countlessly many [5] men, at least one would be found who would show through its effects that he had that power. Also, everyone can find in himself that, no matter how much of his power he exercises, he cannot reach that goal. And if anyone doubts this, let him examine himself and see how often, in spite of his own intellect, his passions master his reason, even when [10] he exerts the greatest force against them.

You will say that we don’t do that, not because it is impossible for us, but because we do not use enough diligence. To which I reply that if it were possible, wouldn’t we find at least one out of so many [15] thousands [who had done it]? But of all these men, there has been, or is, not even one who would dare boast of not falling into error. What more certain proof of this can we adduce than these examples? If there were even a few, there would be one [and that would show that the thing is possible]. But when there is not even one, then there is also no proof.

[20] But you will persist, saying: if it is possible that I, by suspending [IV/115] judgment and keeping my will within the limits of my intellect, can once bring it about that I do not err, then why could I not always have that effect, when I use the same diligence? I reply that I cannot see that today we have so much power as to be able to continue always. [5] If I put all my effort into it, I can cover two leagues in an hour, but I cannot do that always. So with great diligence I can refrain from error once at least, but I don’t have enough power to be able to do that always. It seems clear to me that the first man, proceeding from [10] the hand of that perfect craftsman, did have that power, but (and in this I agree with you) by not using that power sufficiently, or by misusing it, he lost that perfect state of being able to do what previously was in his power. I could adduce various arguments to prove [15] this, if it would not take too long.

And in this it seems to me that the whole essence of holy Scripture consists, and that on this account we ought to hold it in very high esteem, since it teaches us what our natural intellect so clearly establishes: [20] a fall from our initial perfection, caused by our imprudence. What is more necessary than to reform that fall as much as possible? That is also the sole aim of holy Scripture, to bring fallen man back to God.

[IV/116] The second point to be mentioned from Principles IP15 is that you “affirm that understanding things clearly and distinctly is contrary to the nature of man” [I/175/11ff.]. From this you ultimately conclude that it is far better to assent to things [though] confusedly, and to be [5] free, than to always remain indifferent, which is the lowest degree of freedom. I don’t find this clear enough to grant it. For to suspend our judgment keeps us in the state in which we were created by our creator. But to assent to things that are confused is to assent to what we do not understand. In doing this we assent as easily to the false as to [10] the true. And if (as M. Descartes teaches somewhere)14 we don’t use that order in assenting which God has given between our intellect and will, viz. not to assent unless we understand clearly, even though by chance we obtain the true, we still sin because we do not embrace the [15] true with the order with which God has willed that we should embrace it. Consequently, just as not assenting preserves us in the state in which God put us, so assenting to things that are confused puts us in a worse state. For it lays the foundation for the errors through [20] which we then lose our perfect state.

But, I hear you say, is it not better to make ourselves more perfect [IV/117] by assenting to things, though they are confused, than by not assenting to keep ourselves always at the lowest degree of perfection and freedom? But apart from the fact that we deny that, and in some measure have shown that we have made ourselves not better, but worse, [5] it also seems to us impossible, and like a contradiction, that God should make the knowledge of things he himself determined extend further than the knowledge he gave us, indeed that God then would involve an absolute cause of our error. Nor does it go against this that we [10] cannot complain that God should give us more than he has, because he was not bound to. It is, indeed, true that God was not obliged to give us more than he did. But God’s supreme perfection posits also that the creature that proceeds from him can involve no contradiction, [15] as would then appear to follow. For nowhere in created nature do we find knowledge, except in our intellect. For what other purpose can that be given us than to contemplate and know God’s works? And what seems to follow more evidently than that there must be an agreement between our intellect and the things that must be known?

[20] But if I were to examine your letter by the guidance of my second general rule, we would differ more than we do when I examine it by [IV/118] the first. For it seems to me (but if I am mistaken, please tell me) that you do not ascribe that infallible truth and godliness to holy Scripture that I believe to be in it. It is true that you say you believe that God [5] has revealed the things in holy Scripture to the prophets, but in such an imperfect way that, if it was done in the way you maintain, it would involve a Contradiction in God. For if God has revealed his word and will to men, he has done so for a certain end, and clearly. [10] Now if the prophets had feigned a parable from the word they received, then God would have had either to will that also or not to will it. If God had willed that they should feign a parable from his word, i.e., depart from his meaning, then God was the cause of that error, and willed something contradictory. If God did not will it, then it was [15] impossible that the prophets should have been able to feign a parable from them. Moreover, it seems credible, if it is presupposed that God gave his word to the prophets, that he gave it to them in such a way that they, in receiving it, would not have erred. For in giving his [20] word, God had to have a certain end. But God’s end could not be to [IV/119] lead men into error by giving them his word, for that would be a Contradiction in God. Also, man could not err contrary to the will of God, for on your view that is impossible. In addition to all this, it is not credible that that most perfect God would allow that his word, [5] given to the prophets to explain to the people, should be given to the prophets in another sense than God willed. For if we maintain that God gave the prophets his word, we maintain at the same time that God appeared to the prophets in an extraordinary way, or spoke with [10] them. Now, if the prophets feigned a parable from the word given them, i.e., gave it another meaning than the one God has willed that they should give it, God would surely tell them about it. Also, it is both impossible in relation to the prophets, and a Contradiction in relation to God, that the prophets could have another meaning than [15] God willed that they should have.

I see, also, very little proof that God would have revealed his word in the way you maintain, i.e., that he would have revealed only salvation and destruction, that he decreed certain means to [those ends], [20] and that salvation and destruction are nothing more than the effects of those means he decreed. For surely if the prophets had received [IV/120] God’s word in that sense, what reason would they have had to give it another sense? But I also don’t see that you adduce any proof capable of convincing us that this view should be placed above that of the [5] prophets. If you think it is a proof that otherwise that word would involve many imperfections and contradictions, I say that that is only an assertion, not a proof. Who knows which opinion would involve fewer imperfections, if they were both put on the carpet? Finally, that [10] supremely perfect being knew very well how much the people could understand, and therefore what the best way was to instruct them.

As far as the second part of your first question is concerned, you ask yourself why God forbade Adam to eat of the tree when he had [15] decreed the opposite. And you answer that the prohibition to Adam consisted only in this: that God revealed to Adam that eating of that tree caused death, as he reveals to us, through the natural intellect, that poison is deadly for us. If it is established that God has forbidden something to Adam, what reasons are there that I should have to [20] believe in the manner of prohibition you maintain rather than that of the prophets, to whom God himself has also revealed the manner of prohibition?

[IV/121] You will say: my way of prohibition is more natural, and therefore agrees better with the truth and with God. But I deny that. I also cannot conceive that God has revealed to us through the natural understanding [5] that poison is deadly, and I see no reason by which I would ever know that something is poisonous, if I had not seen or heard evil effects of the poison in others. Daily experience teaches us how many men, because they are not acquainted with a poison, eat it unknowingly and die.

[10] You will say: if the people knew that it was poison, they would know that it is evil. But I answer that no one is acquainted with poison, or can be, unless he has seen or heard that someone has hurt himself by using it. And if we maintained that until now we had never [15] seen or heard that anyone had hurt himself by using it, not only would we not know it now, but we would use it, without fear, to our detriment. Such truths are taught us every day.

What can give an upright intellect more pleasure in this life than [20] the contemplation of that perfect godhead? For as it is concerned with the most perfect [being] it must also involve in itself the most perfect [IV/122] [thing] that can fall under our finite intellect. I also have nothing in my life that I would want to exchange for that pleasure. I can spend much time in it, with a heavenly joy. But at the same time I can also be deeply saddened when I see that my finite intellect lacks so much. [5] I soothe that sadness with the hope I have, which is dearer to me than life, that I shall exist again, and remain, and shall contemplate this godhead with more perfection than I do today. When I consider this short and fleeting life, in which I see that my death may occur at any [10] moment, if I had to believe that I would have an end, and be cut off from that holy and glorious contemplation, certainly I would be the most miserable of all creatures, who have no knowledge that they will end. For before my death, my fear of death would make me wretched, [15] and after my death, I would entirely cease to be, and hence be wretched because I would be separated from that divine contemplation.

And this is where your opinions seem to me to lead: that when I come to an end here, then I will come to an end for eternity. Against this, God’s word and will fortify me with his inner witness in my soul [20] that after this life I shall, in a more perfect state, enjoy myself in the contemplation of that most perfect godhead of all. Certainly even if [IV/123] that hope were ultimately found to be a false one, it makes me happy while I have it. This is the only thing I desire of God, and will desire with prayers, sighs, and earnest wishes (Oh that I could contribute [5] more to it!), so long as there is breath in this body: that through his goodness he should be pleased to make me so fortunate that, when this body is dissolved, I might still remain as an intellectual being, to continue contemplating that perfect godhead. If only I get that, it is a matter of indifference to me what men believe here, what they persuade [10] one another of, and whether it is something founded on our natural intellect and can be grasped, or not. That and that alone is my wish, my desire, and my constant prayer, that God should only establish that assurance in my soul. Oh, if I lack it, I am most miserable! [15] And if I have it, then my soul cries out from desire: “As a hart cries for fresh brooks, so longs my soul for thee, the living God. Oh, when will the day come when I will be with you and behold you?” [Ps. 42:2-3] If only I obtain that, then I will have the whole end and desire of my soul.

[20] But those hopes do not appear to me, on your view, because our service is not pleasing to God. I also cannot grasp why, if God takes no pleasure in our service and praise (if at least I may speak of him in [IV/124] so human a way), why he should produce us and preserve us? But if I mistake your view in this, then I wish you would explain how.

I have delayed myself, and perhaps also you, too long with this. [5] Seeing that my time and paper are running out, I shall end. This is what I would still like to see solved in your letter. Perhaps here and there I have drawn some conclusions from your writing that by chance will not be your opinion. But I would like to hear your explanations of them.

[10] I have busied myself recently with reflection on some of God’s attributes. Your Appendix has given me no little help with these. Indeed I have only paraphrased your views, which seem to me nothing short of demonstrations. So I am astonished that L. Meyer says, in [15] his preface, that this is not your opinion, but that you were obliged so to instruct your student, whom you had promised to teach the philosophy of Descartes. He says that you have a completely different view both of God and of the soul, particularly of the soul’s will. I also [20] see it said in that preface that you will shortly publish these Metaphysical Thoughts in an expanded form. I have a very great longing for [IV/125] both of these, for I expect something special from them. But it is not my custom to praise someone to his face.

This is written in sincere friendship, as your letter requests, so that [5] we may discover the truth. Forgive me for having written more than I intended to. If I receive an answer to this, you will oblige me very much. As for being allowed to write in the language in which you were brought up, I cannot refuse you, so long, at least, as it is Latin [10] or French. But I ask to receive the answer to this letter in Dutch. I have understood your meaning in it very well, and perhaps in Latin I would not understand it so clearly. If you do this, you will oblige me so that I shall be, and remain, Sir,

Your most devoted and dutiful,
Willem van Blijenbergh

Dordrecht, 16 January 1665

In your reply I would like to be somewhat more fully informed what you really understand by a negation in God.

[IV/126] LETTER 21
B. D. S. TO THE VERY LEARNED AND DISTINGUISHED WILLEM VAN BLIJENBERGH

Reply to the preceding

Version

Sir and friend,

When I read your first Letter, I thought our opinions nearly agreed. [10] But from the second, which I received on the 21st of this month, I see that I was quite mistaken, and that we disagree not only about the things ultimately to be derived from first principles, but also about the first principles themselves. So I hardly believe that we can instruct one another with our Letters. For I see that no demonstration, however [15] solid it may be according to the Laws of Demonstration, has weight with you unless it agrees with that explanation which you, or Theologians known to you, attribute to sacred Scripture. But if you believe that God speaks more clearly and effectively through sacred Scripture than through the light of the natural intellect, which he has also granted us, and which, with his Divine Wisdom, he continually [20] preserves, strong and uncorrupted, then you have powerful reasons for bending your intellect to the opinions you attribute to sacred Scripture. I myself could hardly do otherwise.

But as for myself, I confess, clearly and without circumlocution, that I do not understand Sacred Scripture, though I have spent several [25] years on it. And I am well aware that, when I have found a solid demonstration, I cannot fall into such thoughts that I can ever doubt it. So I am completely satisfied with what the intellect shows me, and entertain no suspicion that I have been deceived in that or that Sacred Scripture can contradict it (even though I do not investigate it). For [30] the truth does not contradict the truth, as I have already indicated clearly in my Appendix. (I cannot cite the chapter [I/265/30] for I do [IV/127] not have the book here with me in the country.) And if even once I found that the fruits which I have already gathered from the natural intellect were false, they would still make me happy, since I enjoy them and seek to pass my life, not in sorrow and sighing, but in peace, joy, and cheerfulness. By so doing, I climb a step higher. Meanwhile [5] I recognize something which gives me the greatest satisfaction and peace of mind: that all things happen as they do by the power of a supremely perfect Being and by his immutable decree.

But to return to your letter, I am, sincerely, very grateful to you [10] for revealing to me in time your manner of Philosophizing. But I do not thank you for attributing to me the things you want to draw from my letter. What occasion did my letter give you for ascribing these opinions to me: that men are like beasts, that men die and perish as beasts do,15 that our works are displeasing to God, etc.? (On this last [15] point we may differ very much, for if I understand you, you think that God takes pleasure in our works, as someone who has attained his end is pleased because things have turned out as he wished.) As for me, I have said quite clearly that the pious honor God, and by continually knowing him, become more perfect, and that they love [20] God. Is this to make them like beasts? or to say that they perish like beasts? or, finally, to say that their works do not please God?

If you had read my letter more attentively, you would have seen clearly that our disagreement is located in this alone: whether God as God—i.e., absolutely, ascribing no human attributes to him—communicates [25] to the pious the perfections they receive (which is what I understand), or whether he does this as a judge (which is what you maintain). That is why you defend the impious, because, in accordance with God’s decree, they do whatever they can, and serve God as much as the pious do. But according to what I said, that does not follow at all. For I do not introduce God as a judge. And therefore I [30] value works by their quality, and not by the power of the workman, and the wages which follow the work follow it as necessarily as from the nature of a triangle it follows that its three angles must equal two right angles. Everyone will understand this, provided only that he is aware that our highest blessedness consists in love toward God, and [35] that that love flows necessarily from the knowledge of God which is [IV/128] so greatly commended to us. Moreover, this can easily be proven in general, provided only that one attends to the nature of God’s Decree, as I explained in my Appendix. But I confess that anyone who confuses the Divine Nature with human nature is quite incapable of understanding this.

[5] I had intended to end this letter here, so as not to be more troublesome to you in matters which serve only for joking and laughter, but are of no use (as is clear from the very devoted addition at the end of your letter). But not to reject your request entirely, I proceed further to the explanation of the terms “Negation” and “Privation.” I shall [10] also give a brief explanation of what is necessary to grasp more clearly the meaning of my preceding Letter.

I say, therefore, that Privation is, not the act of depriving, but only the pure and simple lack, which in itself is nothing. Indeed, it is only a Being of reason, or mode of thinking, which we form when we [15] compare things with one another. We say, for example, that a blind man is deprived of sight because we easily imagine him as seeing, whether this imagination arises from the fact that we compare him with others who see, or his present state with his past, when he used to see. And when we consider this man in this way, by comparing his [20] nature with that of others or with his own past nature, then we affirm that seeing pertains to his nature, and for that reason we say that he is deprived of it. But when we consider God’s decree, and his nature, we can no more affirm of that man than of a Stone, that he is deprived [25] of vision. For at that time vision no more pertains to that man without contradiction than it does to the stone, since nothing more pertains to that man, and is his, than what the Divine intellect and will attribute to him. Hence, God is no more the cause of his not seeing than of the stone’s not seeing, which is a pure Negation.

[30] Similarly, when we attend to the nature of a man who is led by an appetite for sensual pleasure, we compare his present appetite with that which is in the pious, or with that which he had at another time. We affirm that this man has been deprived of a better appetite, because we judge that then an appetite [35] for virtue belongs to him. We cannot do this if we attend to the nature of the [IV/129] Divine decree and intellect; for in that regard, the better appetite no more pertains to that man’s nature at that time than it does to the Nature of the Devil, or of a stone. That is why, in that regard, the better appetite is not a Privation, but a Negation.

So Privation is nothing but denying something of a thing which we [5] judge to pertain to its nature, and Negation nothing but denying something of a thing because it does not pertain to its nature. From this it is evident why Adam’s appetite for earthly things was evil only in relation to our intellect, but not in relation to God’s. For although God knew the past and present of Adam, he did not on that account understand [10] that Adam was deprived of the past state, i.e., that the past state pertained to his nature. For then God would understand something contrary to his will, i.e., contrary to his own intellect.

If you had perceived this properly, and also that I do not grant that [15] Freedom which Descartes ascribes to the Mind (as L. M. declared in my name in the Preface), you would not have found even the least contradiction in my words. But I see that I would have done much better if, in my first Letter, I had replied in Descartes’ words, by saying that we cannot know how our freedom, and whatever depends on it, is compatible with God’s providence and freedom (as I have [20] done in various places in the Appendix [NS: to Descartes’ Principles]), so that we can find no contradiction between God’s Creation and our freedom, because we cannot grasp at all how God created things or (what is the same) how he preserves them. But I thought you had read the Preface, and that, if I did not reply with my own opinion, I would [25] have sinned against the duty of the friendship which I was offering from the heart. But these things are of no importance.

Nevertheless, because I see that you have not yet understood Descartes’ Meaning, I ask you to attend to these two things:

(1) Neither I nor Descartes ever said that it pertains to our nature [30] to contain our will within the limits of the intellect, but only that God has given us a determinate intellect and an indeterminate will, though in such a way that we do not know to what end he created us; moreover, an indeterminate or perfect will of that kind not only makes us more perfect, but also is quite necessary for us, as I shall say in what [35] follows.

[IV/130] (2) That our Freedom is placed neither in contingency nor in a certain indifference, but in a manner of affirming and denying, so that the less indifferently we affirm or deny a thing, the more free we are. [5] For example, if God’s nature is known to us, then affirming that God exists follows necessarily from our nature, just as it proceeds from the nature of a triangle that its three angles equal two right angles. Nevertheless, we are never more free than when we affirm a thing in such a way. Because this necessity is nothing but God’s Decree (as I have [10] shown clearly in my Appendix [NS: to Descartes’ Principles]), one can understand, in some measure, how we do something freely, and are the cause of it, notwithstanding the fact that we do it necessarily and from God’s decree. I say that we can understand this in some measure when we affirm something which we perceive clearly and distinctly. [15] But when we assert something which we do not grasp clearly and distinctly, i.e., when we allow our will to wander beyond the limits of our intellect, then we cannot so perceive that necessity and God’s Decrees, but [can so perceive] our freedom, which our will always involves (and only in relation to our freedom are our works called good [20] or evil). If we then strive to reconcile our freedom with God’s Decree and continuous Creation, we confuse what we understand clearly and distinctly with what we do not understand. Therefore we strive for that in vain. It is enough for us, then, that we know that we are free, and that we can be such, notwithstanding God’s decree, and that we [25] are the cause of evil, in that no act can be called evil except in relation to our freedom.

These are the things that concern Descartes, which I mention to demonstrate that his position on this involves no contradiction. Now I shall turn to those things that concern me.

First I shall briefly recall the advantage that stems from my opinion. [30] This derives chiefly from the fact that our intellect offers Mind and Body to God, free of any Superstition. Not that I deny that prayers are quite useful to us. For my intellect is too weak to determine all the means God has to lead men to love him, i.e., to salvation. Hence, [35] it is so far from being the case that this opinion of mine will be harmful, that on the contrary, it is the only means of attaining the highest [IV/131] degree of blessedness for those who are not in the grip of prejudice or childish superstition.

But what you say—that I make men like elements, plants, and stones by making them so dependent on God—shows sufficiently that you [5] understand my opinion very perversely and confuse things that concern the intellect with [those which concern] the imagination. For if you had perceived with a pure intellect what it is to depend on God, you would certainly not think that things, insofar as they depend on God, are dead, corporeal, and imperfect. Who has ever dared to speak [10] so vilely of the supremely perfect Being? On the contrary, you would grasp that for that reason, and to that extent, they are perfect. So that we best understand this dependence and necessary operation through God’s decree, when we attend not to logs and plants, but to the most intelligible and perfect created things, as is clearly evident from what [15] I have already mentioned above, under the second point about Descartes’ view. You ought to have noticed this.

I cannot suppress my astonishment at your saying that if God did not punish transgressions (i.e., punish as a judge does, with the kind of punishment that the transgression itself does not carry with it—for [20] that is all that is at issue here), what reason would prevent me from eagerly perpetrating all sorts of knavery? Certainly one who abstains from knavery only from dread of punishment (I hope this is not you) does not in any way act from love and does not at all esteem Virtue. As for myself, I abstain from those things, or try to, because they are explicitly contrary to my singular nature, and make me wander from [25] the knowledge and love of God.

Next, if you had attended a little to human nature, if you had perceived the nature of God’s decree, as I have explained it in the Appendix, and finally, if you had known how things ought to be deduced, before one arrives at a conclusion, you would not have said so [30] boldly that this opinion makes us like logs, etc. Nor would you have attributed so many absurdities to me as you imagine.

Before you proceed to your second Rule, you say there are two things you cannot perceive. To the first I reply that Descartes is enough [35] for drawing your conclusion, viz. that if only you attend to your nature, you will find by experience that you can suspend your judgment. [IV/132] But if you say that you do not find by experience that we have so much power over reason today, that we can always continue this, to Descartes that would be the same as saying we cannot see today that as long as we exist we shall always be thinking things, or will retain [5] the nature of a thinking thing. That certainly involves a contradiction.

Regarding the second point, I say, with Descartes, that if we could not extend our Will beyond the limits of our very limited intellect, we would be very wretched, and it would not be in our power to eat a [10] piece of bread, or take a step, or to remain still. For all things are uncertain and full of danger.

I pass now to your second Rule, and I assert that I indeed believe that I do not attribute to Scripture that Truth which you believe to be in it. Nevertheless, I believe that I ascribe as much, if not more, [15] authority to it, and that I take care, far more cautiously than others do, not to attribute to it certain childish and absurd opinions. No one can do this unless he either understands Philosophy well or has Divine revelations. So I am not much moved by those explanations that Ordinary [20] Theologians give of Scripture, especially if they are of the kind that always take Scripture according to the letter and external meaning. Except for the Socinians,16 I have never seen a Theologian so dense that he did not perceive that Sacred Scripture very often speaks of God in a human way and expresses its meaning in Parables.

[25] As for the contradiction you strive—in vain, I think—to show, I believe that by a Parable you understand something quite different from what is commonly understood. For who ever heard that one who expresses his conceptions in parables wanders from his own meaning. When Micaiah said to King Ahab [1 Kings 22:19ff.] that he had seen God sitting on his throne, with the heavenly hosts standing on his [30] right and his left, and that God asked them who would deceive Ahab, that was certainly a Parable by which the Prophet expressed sufficiently the main thing he was supposed to reveal in God’s name on that occasion (which was not one for teaching lofty doctrines of Theology). So he would not depart in any way from his meaning.

[35] So also the other Prophets revealed God’s Word to the people, by [IV/133] God’s command, in that way, as the best means (though not as the means God demanded) of leading the people to the primary goal of Scripture. According to what Christ himself taught [Matt. 22:37-40], that goal consists in this: in the love of God before all else, and of [5] one’s neighbor as oneself. Lofty speculations, I believe, concern Scripture not at all. As for me, I have learned no eternal attributes of God from Sacred Scripture, nor could I learn them.

As for your argument17 (that the Prophets have revealed God’s word [10] in such a way), since truth is not contrary to truth, nothing remains except that I should demonstrate (as anyone who perceives the Method of Demonstrating will judge) that Scripture, just as it is, is the true revealed Word of God. I cannot have a Mathematical Demonstration of it, except by Divine Revelation. And for that reason I said “I [15] believe”—but not “I know in a mathematical way”—“that all the things which God has revealed to the Prophets [to be necessary for salvation are written in the manner of laws.—IV/92/15-93/1].” For I firmly believe, but do not know Mathematically, that the Prophets were God’s confidential Counselors and trusty Messengers. So in the things I have affirmed, there is no contradiction at all, whereas on the other side, many are found.

[20] The rest of your Letter—viz. where you say “Finally that supremely perfect Being knew [very well how much the people could understand—IV/120/9ff.],” and next what you bring up against the example of the poison, and finally, what concerns the Appendix and what follows—none of this, I say, concerns the present Problem.

With regard to Meyer’s Preface, it certainly shows both what Descartes [25] would still have to prove, to construct a real demonstration of Free Will, and adds that I favor the contrary opinion, and how I favor it. In its proper time perhaps I shall show this, but that is not my intention now.

I have not thought about the work on Descartes nor given any further [30] attention to it since it was published in Dutch. The reason for this would take too long to tell. So nothing more remains to be said, except that I, etc.

[Schiedam, 28 January 1665]

[IV/134] LETTER 22
TO THE VERY DISTINGUISHED B.D.S. FROM WILLEM VAN BLIJENBERGH

Reply to the preceding

Sir and worthy Friend,

I received your letter of 28 January in good time, but occupations other than those of study have prevented me from answering before [10] now. And since your letter was interlarded here and there with touchy reproofs, I hardly knew what I should think of it. For in your first letter, of 5 January, you firmly and heartily offered me your friendship, with a protestation that not only was the letter you had received then very pleasing to you, but also that future letters would be. Indeed, [15] I was invited, amicably, to raise freely any difficulties I might still have. That is what I did, rather extensively, in my letter of 16 January. In view of your request and promise, I expected a friendly and instructive reply. But what in fact I received was a letter that does [IV/135] not sound very friendly. You say that no demonstrations, no matter how clear they are, count with me, that I do not understand Descartes’ meaning, that I mix corporeal and spiritual things too much, etc., so [5] that we can no longer instruct one another by exchanging letters.

To this I reply, very amicably, that I certainly believe that you understand the above-mentioned things better than I do, and that you are more accustomed to distinguish corporeal from spiritual things, for you have already ascended to a high level in metaphysics, where I [10] am a beginner. That is why I sought to insinuate myself into your favor, to get instruction. But I never thought that by making frank objections I would give occasion for offense. I thank you heartily for the trouble you have taken with both letters, and especially for the [15] second. I think I grasped your meaning more clearly there than in the first. Nevertheless, I still cannot assent to it unless the difficulties I still think I find in it are removed. That should not, cannot, give you any reason for offense. For it is a great defect in our intellect to assent [20] to the truth without having the grounds of assent that are necessary. [IV/136] Even if your conceptions were true, I should not assent to them so long as I still have any reason for obscurity or doubt, even if those doubts arise not from what you maintain, but from the imperfection [5] of my intellect. Because you know this only too well, do not think ill of me if I again raise some objections, as I am bound to do so long as I cannot grasp the matter clearly. This happens only because I want to discover the truth, not because I want to distort your meaning, [10] contrary to your intention. So I ask for a friendly reply to these few words.

You say that no thing has more essence than the divine will and power attribute to it and in fact give it. And when we attend to the nature of a man who has an appetite for sensual pleasure, and compare his present appetites [15] with those of the pious, or with those he himself had at another time, then we say that that man is deprived of a better [OP: appetite] because then we judge that the appetite for virtue belongs to him. We cannot do this if we attend to the nature of God’s decree and intellect. For in relation to that, the better appetite no more pertains to the nature of that man at that time than it does [20] to the nature of the devil, or of a stone, etc. For even though God knew the [IV/137] past and present state of Adam, he did not on that account understand that Adam was deprived of his past [OP: state], i.e., that the past [state] belonged to his present nature, etc.18

From these words it seems to me (though I am subject to correction) to follow clearly that on your view nothing else pertains to an essence [5] than what it has at that moment when it is perceived. I.e., if I have an appetite for sensual pleasure, that appetite pertains to my essence at that time, and if I have no appetite for sensual pleasure, then that lack of appetite pertains to my essence at the time when I lack that appetite. Also, consequently, it must follow infallibly that in relation [10] to God, I involve as much perfection (different only in degree) in my actions when I have an appetite for sensual pleasure, as when I have no appetite for sensual pleasure, when I engage in all kinds of knavery, as when I practice virtue and justice. For to my essence at that time [15] pertains only as much as I do; for on your view I can do neither more nor less than I have in fact received essence. For because the appetite for sensual pleasure and knavery pertains to my essence at the time when I engage in them, and at that time I receive no greater essence [20] from the divine power, the divine power requires only such works of me. And so it seems to me to follow clearly from your position that [IV/138] God desires knavery in the same way he desires those things you call virtue.

Let us posit now that God, as God, and not as a Judge, gives both [5] the pious and the impious only as much essence as he wills that they shall exercise. What reasons are there for God not to desire the act of the one in the same way as that of the other? For because God gives each the quality for his act, it follows certainly that from those to whom God has given less, he desires, in the same way, only so much; [10] as he [desires more] from those to whom he has given more. Consequently, God, in relation to himself, wills more or less perfection from our actions, the desire for sensual pleasure and the desire for virtue, in the same way. So those who engage in knavery must necessarily [15] engage in knavery because nothing else belongs to their essence at that time, as he who practices virtue does so because the divine power has willed that this should pertain to his essence at that time. Again, all I can see is that God wills equally, and in the same way, knavery and [20] virtue. And insofar as he wills both, he is the cause of both, and both must be pleasing to him. I find that too hard to conceive of God.

[IV/139] I see, indeed, that you say that the pious serve God. But from your writings all I can see is that serving God is nothing but doing such acts as God has willed that we should do. That you ascribe also to the [5] godless and sensual. What difference is there, then, in relation to God, between the service of the pious and of the godless? You say also that the pious serve God, and in serving continually become more perfect. But I cannot see what you understand by ‘becoming more perfect’ nor [10] what ‘continually becoming more perfect’ means. For the godless and the pious both receive their essence, and also the preservation or continuous creation of their essence, from God, as God, not as a Judge. And they both carry out God’s will in the same way, viz. according to God’s decree. What distinction can there then be between the two [15] in relation to God? For that ‘continually becoming more perfect’ flows not from the act, but from the will of God, so that if the godless become more imperfect through their acts, that too flows not from their acts, but only from the will of God. Both only carry out God’s will. So there can be no distinction between these two in relation to [20] God. What reasons are there, then, that the one should continually become more perfect through his acts and the other be consumed in serving?

[IV/140] But you seem to locate the distinction of the one’s acts over the other’s in the fact that the one act involves more perfection than the other. I am confident that there is an error concealed here, either yours [5] or mine. For the only rule I can find in your writings according to which a thing is called more or less perfect is that it has more or less essence.19 But if that is now the rule of perfection, then certainly knavery, in relation to God’s will, is as pleasing to him as the acts of the [10] pious. For God, as God, i.e., in relation to himself, wills them in the same way, because they both proceed from his decree. If this alone is the rule of perfection, then errors can only improperly be so called. In fact, there are no errors, there are no acts of knavery, but everything [15] contains just as much essence as God gives it, which always involves perfection, whatever it is. I confess that I cannot perceive that clearly.

You must forgive me if I ask whether killing is as pleasing to God as giving charity, whether, in relation to God, stealing is as good as [20] being just. If you say ‘no,’ what are the reasons? If you say ‘yes,’ what [IV/141] reasons can there be, why I should be moved to do the one act, which you call virtue, rather than the other? What law or rule forbids me the one more than the other? If you say the law of virtue itself, I must [5] certainly confess that I see in your writings no law according to which virtue can be regulated or known. For everything depends inseparably on God’s will, and consequently the one is as virtuous as the other. So I don’t understand why you say that we must act from love of [10] virtue, since I cannot grasp what, according to you, virtue, or the law of virtue, is.

You say, indeed, that you omit vice and knavery because they are contrary to your singular nature and would make you stray from the divine knowledge and love. But in all your writings I see no rule or [15] proof of this. Indeed, excuse me, but I must say that the opposite seems to follow from what you have written. You omit the things I call vice because they are contrary to your singular nature, but not because they contain vice in themselves. You omit doing them as we omit eating food that our nature finds disgusting. Certainly those who [20] omit evils only because their nature finds them disgusting can pride themselves very little on their virtue.

[IV/142] Here again the question can be raised: if there was a mind to whose singular nature the pursuit of sensual pleasure or knavery was not contrary, is there a reason for virtue which would have to move it to [5] do good and omit evil? But how is it possible that a man should be able to omit the appetite for sensual pleasure when that desire pertains to his essence at that time and he really has received it and cannot omit it?

I can also not see that this follows in your writings: that the acts which I call knavery should make you stray from the knowledge and [10] love of God. For you have done only what God willed, nor could you do more, because at that time the divine power and will gave you no more essence. How can an action so determined and dependent make you stray from the love of God? To stray is to be confused and independent. [15] And on your view that is impossible. For whether we do this or that, whether we manifest more or less perfection, we receive that for our essence, at that time, immediately from God. How, then, can we stray? I must not understand what is meant by straying. Here, [20] and here alone, must lie the cause, either of my mistake or yours.

[IV/143] Here there are many other things I would still like to say and ask.

(1) Whether intellectual substances depend on God in a different way than lifeless ones do? For although intellectual beings involve [5] more essence than the lifeless do, don’t they both require God and God’s decrees for their motion in general, and for such and such motions in particular? Consequently, insofar as they are dependent, are they not dependent in one and the same way?

(2) Because you do not grant the soul the freedom Descartes ascribed [10] to it, what distinction is there between the dependence of intellectual substances and that of those without a soul? and if they have no freedom of the will, in what way do you conceive the dependence on God, and how the soul is dependent on God?

(3) If our soul does not have that freedom, is our action not God’s [15] action and is our will not God’s will?

There are several other questions I would like to ask, but I dare not seek so much of you. But I shall look forward to receiving, shortly, your answer to the preceding pages. Perhaps in that way I can understand your meaning somewhat better and then we will discuss these matters in person somewhat more fully. For after I have your answer, [20] I shall have to be in Leyden in a few weeks, and will give myself the honor of greeting you in passing, if that is agreeable with you at least. [IV/144] Depending on this, I send you hearty greetings, remaining

Your most devoted and dutiful

W. v. Blijenbergh

If you do not write to me under Cover, please write to Willem van Blijenbergh, Grainbroker, near the great Church, Dordrecht, 19 February 1665

[10] In my excessive haste I have forgotten to include this question: whether by our prudence we cannot prevent what would otherwise happen to us?

[IV/145] LETTER 23
B.D. S. TO THE VERY LEARNED AND NOTABLE GENTLEMAN WILLEM VAN BLIJENBERGH

Reply to the preceding

Sir and friend,

This week I received two letters from you, the one of 9 March [20] serving only to inform me of the other, of 19 February, which was sent to me from Schiedam. In the latter I see that you complain of my having said that no demonstration is of any force with you, etc., as if I had said that with regard to my own reasonings, because they did not immediately satisfy you. That was far from my meaning. I [25] had in mind your own words:

Whenever it happens, after a long investigation, that my natural knowledge either seems to contradict this word, or is not easily etc. this word has so much authority with me that I suspect the conceptions I imagine to be clear rather etc. [IV/97/1-5]

[30] So I only repeated, briefly, your own words. I do not believe, therefore, that I gave the slightest reason for offense, the more so because I brought that up to show the great difference between us.

Furthermore, because you had said at the end of your second letter [IV/123/1ff.] that your only wish was to persevere in your belief and [35] hope, and that the rest, which we can persuade one another of concerning [IV/146] the natural intellect, is indifferent to you, I thought, and still [20] think, that my writing could be of no use, and that therefore it was more advisable for me not to neglect my studies—which I would otherwise have to set aside for so long—for the sake of things that can be of no use. This does not contradict my first letter because there I considered you as a pure philosopher who (as many who consider [25] themselves Christians grant) has no other touchstone of truth than the natural intellect and not theology. But you have taught me otherwise and shown me that the foundation on which I intended to build our friendship was not laid as I thought.

Finally, as regards the rest, that happens commonly in disputation, [30] without going beyond the bounds of politeness. For these reasons, I have let such things pass unnoticed in your second letter, and will in this one also. That will suffice to show that I have given you no reason for it, much less to think that I can bear no contradiction. I shall now [35] turn to your objections to answer them again.

[IV/147] First, then, I say that God is absolutely and really the cause of everything that has essence, no matter what it is. If you can demonstrate now [20] that evil, error, knavery, etc., are things that express essence, then I will grant completely that God is the cause of knavery, evil, error, etc. As for me, it seems to me that I have shown sufficiently that what constitutes the form of evil, error, and knavery does not consist in something that expresses essence, and that therefore we cannot say [25] that God is the cause of it.

For example, Nero’s matricide, insofar as it comprehends something positive, was not knavery. For Orestes, too, performed the [same] external action, and with the [same] intention of killing his mother. Nevertheless, he is not blamed, or at least, not as severely as Nero is. [30] What, then, was Nero’s knavery? Nothing but this: he showed by that act that he was ungrateful, without compassion, and disobedient. And it is certain that none of these things express any essence. Therefore, God was not the cause of them, but was the cause of Nero’s act and intention.

[35] Next, I should like it noted here that while we are speaking philosophically [IV/148] we must not use theological ways of speaking. For because theology has usually—and that not without reason—represented God [20] as a perfect man, it is appropriate in theology to say that God desires something, that he finds sorrow in the acts of the godless and takes pleasure in those of the pious. But in philosophy we understand clearly that to ascribe to God those ‘attributes’ which make a man perfect is [25] as bad as if one wanted to ascribe to man those which make an elephant or an ass perfect. So there words of this kind have no place, and we cannot use them without confusing our concepts very much. Therefore, speaking philosophically, we cannot say that God desires [30] something of something, nor that something is pleasing or a cause of sorrow to him. For those are all human ‘attributes,’ which have no place in God.

Finally, I should like it noted that—though the acts of the pious (i.e., of those who have clearly that idea of God according to which [35] all their acts and thoughts are determined), and of the godless (i.e., of [IV/149] those who do not have that idea of God, but only confused ideas of [20] earthly things, according to which all their acts and thoughts are determined), and, finally, the acts of everything there is, follow necessarily from God’s eternal laws and decree, and continually depend on God—nevertheless, they differ from one another not only in degree, but also essentially. For though a mouse depends on God as much as [25] an angel does, and sadness as much as joy, a mouse cannot on that account be a kind of angel, nor sadness a kind of joy.

With this I think I have answered your objections (if I have understood them, for sometimes I doubt whether the conclusion you draw [30] does not differ from the proposition that you undertake to prove). But this will be more evident if I reply, following these principles, to the questions you have proposed:

(1) Whether killing is as pleasing to God as almsgiving?

(2) Whether stealing, in relation to God, is as good as being just?

(3) If there was a mind to whose singular nature the pursuit of [35] sensual pleasure and knavery was not contrary, is there a reason [IV/150] for virtue which should move it to do good and omit evil?

To the first I say that I do not know (philosophically speaking) what [20] you mean by “pleasing to God.” If the question is “Whether God does not hate the one and love the other?” or “Whether the one has not done God an injury and the other a favor?” then I answer “no.” If the question is “Whether men who kill and those who give charity are equally good or perfect?” again I say “no.”

[25] To the second, I say that if “good in relation to God” means that the just man does God some good, and the thief does him some evil, I answer that neither the just man nor the thief can cause God pleasure or displeasure. But if the question is “Whether the two acts, insofar [30] as they are something real, and caused by God, are not equally perfect?” then I say that, if we consider the acts alone, and in such a way, it may well be that both are equally perfect.

If you then ask “Whether the thief and the just man are not equally perfect and blessed?” then I answer “no.” For by a just man I understand one who [35] constantly desires that each one should possess his own. In my Ethics, (which I [IV/151] have not yet published)20 I show that this desire necessarily arises in the pious from a clear knowledge which they have of themselves and of God. And since [20] the thief has no desire of that kind, he necessarily lacks the knowledge of God and of himself, which is the principal thing that makes us men.

If, however, you still ask what can move you to perform the act I call virtuous rather than the other, I reply that I cannot know what [25] way, of the infinitely many there are, God uses to determine you to such works. It may be that God has imprinted the idea of himself clearly in you, and through love of him, makes you forget the world and love all men as yourself. It is clear that such a constitution of mind is contrary to all the others which we call evil. Therefore, they [30] cannot exist in one subject.

This is not the place to explain the foundations of Ethics, nor to prove everything I say, because I am concerned only to answer your objections and to turn them away from myself.

Finally, your third question presupposes a contradiction. It is as if [35] someone were to ask: if it agreed better with the nature of someone to [IV/152] hang himself, would there be reasons why he should not hang himself? But suppose it were possible that there should be such a nature. Then I say (whether I grant free will or not) that if anyone sees that [20] he can live better on the gallows than at his table, he would act very foolishly if he did not go hang himself. One who saw clearly that in fact he would enjoy a better and more perfect life or essence by being a knave than by following virtue would also be a fool if he were not a [25] knave. For acts of knavery would be virtue in relation to such a perverted human nature.

As for the other questions which you have added at the end of your letter, since one could just as well ask a hundred in an hour, without ever coming to the conclusion of anything, and since you yourself do [30] not press much for an answer, I shall leave them unanswered. For now I shall say only [that I shall expect you at the time we arranged, and that you will be very welcome to me. But I should like it to be soon, since I am already planning to go to Amsterdam for a week or [35] two. Meanwhile, I remain, with cordial greetings,

Your friend and servant,
B. de Spinoza]21

Voorburg, 13 March 1665

[IV/153] LETTER 24
WILLEM VAN BLIJENBERGH TO THE VERY DISTINGUISHED B. D. S.

Reply to the preceding

Sir and friend,

When I had the honor of being with you, the time did not allow me to stay longer with you. Still less could my memory retain everything [10] we discussed, although immediately on leaving you I collected all my thoughts in order to be able to retain what I had heard. So in the next place I came to, I tried to put your opinions on paper myself. But I found then that in fact I had retained not even a fourth of what [15] was discussed. So you must excuse me if once again I trouble you by asking about matters where I did not clearly understand your meaning or did not retain it well. (I wish I could do something for you in return for your trouble.) [My difficulties] were:

[IV/154] First, when I read your Principles and Metaphysical Thoughts, how shall I be able to distinguish what is stated as Descartes’ opinion from what is stated as your own?

[5] Second, is there really error, and what does it consist in?

Third, in what way do you maintain that the will is not free?

Fourth, what do you mean by what you have Meyer say in the Preface:

Though you admit … that there is a thinking substance in nature, you [10] nevertheless deny that it constitutes the essence of the human Mind; instead you maintain that just as Extension is determined by no limits, so also Thought is determined by no limits. Therefore, just as the human Body is not extension absolutely, but only an extension determined in a certain way according [15] to the laws of extended nature by motion and rest, so also the human Soul, is not thought absolutely, but only a thought determined in a certain way according to the laws of thinking nature by ideas, a thought which, one infers, must exist when the human body begins to exist.22

[20] From these words it seems to me to follow that as the human body is composed of thousands of small bodies, so also the human mind is [IV/155] composed of thousands of thoughts; and that as the human body, when it disintegrates, is resolved again into the thousands of bodies of which it was composed, so also our mind, when separated from our [5] body, is resolved again into that multitude of thoughts of which it was composed. And as the scattered bodies [which composed] our human body no longer remain bound to one another, but other bodies separate them, so also it seems to follow that, when our mind disintegrates, those countless thoughts of which it was composed, are no longer [10] combined, but separated. And as our bodies, when they are broken up, remain bodies, but not human bodies, so also when, after death, our thinking substance disintegrates, the thoughts or thinking substances remain, but their essence is not what it was when it was called a human mind.

[15] From this it continues to seem to me as if you maintained that the thinking substance of men is changed and resolved like corporeal substances, so that some are completely annihilated and no thought of theirs remains. Indeed, if memory serves me, you maintained this [20] concerning the wicked. And just as Descartes, according to Meyer, only assumes that the mind is a substance thinking absolutely, so it [IV/156] seems to me that you and Meyer, in these words, for the most part only make assumptions. So I do not clearly grasp your meaning in this.

Fifth, you maintained, both in our conversation and in your letter of 13 March, that from the clear knowledge which we have of God [5] and of ourselves there arises in us a constant desire that each should remain in possession of his own. But it remains to be explained how the knowledge of God and ourselves causes us to have a constant desire that each should possess his own. I.e., how does it proceed from [10] the knowledge of God that we are obliged to love virtue and to omit those acts we call vicious? How does it happen—since on your view killing and stealing contain something positive in them, just as much as giving charity does—that killing does not involve as much perfection, blessedness, and satisfaction as giving charity?

[15] Perhaps you will say, as you do in your letter of 13 March, that this problem belongs to the Ethics, and that you discuss it there. But then, without an explanation of this problem, and also of the preceding questions, I cannot clearly understand your meaning. Absurdities [20] remain which I cannot reconcile. So I ask you as a friend to answer me somewhat more fully, and especially to state some of your principal [IV/157] definitions, postulates, and axioms, on which your Ethics, and especially this question, rest. Perhaps the trouble will deter you, and you will excuse yourself, but I entreat you this time at least to satisfy [5] my request. Without a solution to this problem I shall never be able to grasp your meaning correctly. I wish I could offer you something in exchange. I dare not limit you to one or two weeks, but will only ask that you reply before your departure for Amsterdam. If you do [10] this, you will oblige me very much, and I shall show you that I remain, sir,

Your most devoted servant,
Willem van Blijenbergh

Dordrecht, 27 March 1665

To Mr. Benedictus de Spinosa,
staying in Voorburg
per couverto

[IV/158] LETTER 25
HENRY OLDENBURG TO THE VERY ILLUSTRIOUS B. D. S.

[5] Very Illustrious Sir, Dearest Friend,

I was delighted to learn in a recent letter from Mr. Serrarius, that you are alive and well and remember your Oldenburg. But at the same time I complain greatly of my fortune (if it is legitimate to use that word), in that I have been deprived for so many months of that very [10] pleasant correspondence I used to have with you. The fault lies both with a great deal of business and with frightful domestic misfortunes. My great fondness for you and my faithful friendship will always remain steadfast and unshakable through the years. Mr. Boyle and I [15] often talk about you, your Erudition, and your profound meditations. We would like to see the fruit of your understanding published and entrusted to the embrace of the learned. We are sure that you will not disappoint us in this.

There is no need for Mr. Boyle’s essay on Niter, and on Solidity and Fluidity, to be published in Holland. It has already been published [20] in Latin here, but there is no opportunity to send you copies. I ask you, therefore, not to allow any of your printers to undertake such a thing.

Boyle has also published a notable Treatise on Colors, both in English and in Latin, and at the same time, an Experimental History of [25] Cold, Thermometers, etc., in which there are many excellent things and many new things. Nothing but this unfortunate war23 prevents me from sending these books to you.

Another notable publication is a Treatise on sixty Microscopic observations,24 in which many things are discussed boldly, but Philosophically (yet according to Mechanical principles). I hope our Booksellers [30] will find a way of sending copies of all of these to your country. For my part, I am anxious to receive, from your own hand, what you have done recently or are working on now. I am

Your most devoted and affectionate,

Henry Oldenburg

London, 28 April 1665

[IV/159] LETTER 26
B. D. S. TO THE VERY NOBLE AND LEARNED HENRY OLDENBURG

Most honorable friend,

A few days ago a friend of mine said he had been given your letter of 28 April by an Amsterdam Bookseller, who no doubt received it from Mr. Serrarius. I was extremely glad to be able to learn at last, from you yourself, that you were well and that you are as favorably [10] disposed toward me as before. I, of course, as often as I could, asked about you and your health of Mr. Serrarius and Christiaan Huygens, Lord of Zeelhem, who also told me he knew you. From the same Huygens I also learned that the very learned Mr. Boyle is alive and [15] has published that notable Treatise on Colors in English. He would lend it to me if I understood English.

So I am pleased to learn from you that this Treatise (as well as that other, on cold and Thermometers, which I had not yet heard about) has been given Latin citizenship and published. Mr. Huygens also has the book on microscopic observations, but unless I am mistaken, [20] it is in English.

He has told me wonderful things about these microscopes, and also about certain Telescopes, made in Italy, with which they could observe Eclipses of Jupiter caused by the interposition of its satellites, and also a certain shadow on Saturn, which looked as if it were caused by a ring. These things make me astonished at Descartes’ haste. He [25] says that the reason why the Planets next to Saturn—for he thought its projections were Planets, perhaps because he never observed them touching Saturn—do not move may be that Saturn does not rotate around its own axis. But this does not agree very well with his principles, and he could have explained the cause of the projections very [30] easily on his principles, if he had not labored under a prejudice, etc. [Voorburg, May 1665]

[IV/160] LETTER 27
B. D. S. TO THE VERY COURTEOUS AND DISTINGUISHED WILLEM VON BLIJENBERGH

Reply to Letter 24

Sir and friend,

[20] When I received your letter of 27 March, I was about to leave for Amsterdam. So I left it at home, only half-read, intending to answer it on my return. I thought it contained only things about the first problem. Later, when I read it through, I found that its content was [25] quite different. Not only did it ask for a proof of those things I had [Meyer] put in the Preface [OP: of my Geometric Demonstrations of Descartes’ Principles]—but which I had him include only to indicate to everyone my own opinions, not to prove or explain them—it also asked for proof of a great part of Ethics, which, as everyone knows, must [IV/161] be founded on metaphysics and physics. So I could not bring myself to satisfy you on this.

But I wanted the opportunity to talk with you in the friendliest way, so that I might ask you to desist from your request. Then I [20] would, at the same time, give you a reason for my declining, and finally, show you that those things do not make for a solution of your first problem, but that, on the contrary, most of them depend on [the solution of] that problem. So it is far from being the case that you cannot understand my opinion regarding the necessity of things without [25] the solution of these new questions, because the solution of the latter, and what pertains to them, cannot be perceived unless one first understands that necessity. For as you know, the necessity of things concerns metaphysics, the knowledge of which must always come first.

However, before I could get the desired opportunity, I received [30] another letter this week, under cover from my host, which seems to show more displeasure at the long wait. So it is necessary for me to write these few lines, to tell you briefly my resolution and intention. That I have now done. I hope that, when you have weighed the matter, [35] you will voluntarily desist from your request and still retain your good will toward me. For my part, I shall show, in every way that I can or may, that I am

Your well-disposed Friend and Servant,
B. de Spinoza

Voorburg, 3 June 1665

[IV/162] LETTER 28
B. D. S. TO THE VERY LEARNED AND EXPERT
JOHANNES BOUWMEESTER

Special friend,

[15] I don’t know whether you have completely forgotten me, but many things concur that raise the suspicion. First, when I was about to leave [Amsterdam], I wanted to say goodbye to you, and since you yourself had invited me, I thought that without doubt I would find you at home. But I learned that you had gone to The Hague. I returned to Voorburg, not doubting that you would at least visit us in passing. [20] But you have returned home, God willing, without greeting your friend. Finally, I have waited three weeks, and in all that time I have no letter from you.

If you want to remove this opinion of mine, you can do so easily by a letter in which you can also indicate a way of arranging our correspondence, of which we once talked in your house. Meanwhile, [25] I would like to ask you urgently, indeed I entreat and request you by our friendship, to be willing to pursue serious work energetically and with true enthusiasm, and to be willing to devote the better part of your life to the cultivation of your intellect and soul. You must do [IV/163] this now, while there is time, before you complain of the passage of time, indeed, the passage of yourself.

Next, to say something about our proposed correspondence so that you will not fear to write freely to me, you should know that I have previously suspected and am almost certain, that you have less confidence [5] in your ability than you should, and fear that you will ask or propose something unbefitting a learned man. It is not proper for me to praise you to your face and to tell you your gifts. Nevertheless, if you fear that I will communicate your letters to others, to whom you will subsequently be an object of mockery, I give you my word that henceforth I will keep them scrupulously and will not communicate [10] them to any other mortal without your permission. On these conditions you can begin our correspondence, unless perhaps you doubt my good faith. I don’t believe that for a moment; nevertheless I expect to learn your opinion about these matters from your first letter.

At the same time I also expect some of the conserve of red roses that you promised, though for a long time now I have been better. [15] After I left [Amsterdam] I opened a vein once, but the fever did not stop (though I was somewhat more active even before the bloodletting—because of the change of air, I think). But I have suffered two or three times from tertian fever. By good diet, however, I have got rid of it and sent it I know not where. My only care is that it should not return.

[20] As for the third part of our philosophy, I shall soon send some of it either to you (if you wish to be its translator) or to friend de Vries. Although I had decided to send nothing until I finished it, nevertheless, because it is turning out to be longer than I thought, I don’t want to hold you back too long. I shall send up to about the 80th proposition.25

[25] I hear much about English affairs, but nothing certain. The people do not cease suspecting all sorts of evils. No one knows any reason why the fleet does not set sail. And indeed, the matter does not yet seem to be safe. I am afraid that our countrymen want to be too wise and cautious. Nevertheless, the event itself will finally show what they have in mind and what they are striving for. May the gods make things turn out well.

[30] I would like to hear what people think there, and what they know for certain. But more than that, indeed more than anything, I would like to hear that you consider me, etc. [Voorburg, June 1665]

1 See Freudenthal 5, 1:148ff.

2 A stronger reason, perhaps, is the fact that we know that Spinoza preferred not to write in Dutch (IV/95) and that Balling had a good knowledge of Latin. See AHW, 459-460.

3 Wolf 3, 51; AHW, 45.

4 Akkerman (2, 145-160) makes a very strong case for regarding Balling as the translator of EI-II in the NS, and Gebhardt has suggested him as the translator of the KV.

5 AHW, 47.

1 This subheading in the OP generally signals a translation from the Dutch. But AHW plausibly conjecture that in this case the original may have been written in Spanish. Cf. the Preface, p. 351.

2 Since Spinoza moved from Rijnsburg to Voorburg in April 1663, he is probably referring to the winter of 1662-1663, rather than the winter just ended.

3 I.e., Descartes’ “Principles” and the Metaphysical Thoughts.

4 An allusion to a line from the Greek poet Epicharmus (AHW).

5 Probably this language was Spanish, the language used in the Amsterdam Jewish community for instruction in the schools, and for literary and religious discussions. Portuguese was the language of daily life and of business; Hebrew, the language of prayer. See AHW, Wolf, Roth and Freudenthal 5, 1:316.

6 Here van Blijenbergh quotes in Latin from the Metaphysical Thoughts (I/247/34-35).

7 So A and NS; the OP corrects to: “essence.”

8 At this point van Blijenbergh quotes in parentheses from the Latin text of Principles P15S (I/175/29-31): “but [assenting to confused things contains imperfection] only insofar as we thereby deprive ourselves of the best liberty, which belongs to our nature and is in our power.”

9 Here van Blijenbergh quotes again from the Latin text of Principles IP15S (I/174/14-17).

10 A quotation from Principles IP15S (I/175/31-33).

11 So A and NS; the OP again corrects to: “essence.”

12 Van Blijenbergh here quotes a passage from IV/94/27ff.; but not accurately.

13 A not very exact quotation of I/174/15-16.

14 AT VII, 59-60.

15 Westerbrink notes that there is an echo of Ecclesiastes here: “I said in my heart with regard to the sons of men that God is testing them to show them that they are but beasts. For the fate of the sons of men and the fate of beasts is the same; as one dies, so dies the other” (3:18-19 RSV). Westerbrink thinks Spinoza is not conscious of setting himself in opposition to scripture, though this seems doubtful to me.

16 AHW note (following Dunin-Borkowski, 4:113-117) that Spinoza’s inaccurate conception of Socinianism probably stemmed from his contact with Meyer.

17 OP: “fifth argument.” I follow AHW (and the NS). I also accept Wolf’s emendation of the punctuation.

18 The quotations, which are not very exact, come from IV/128/26ff.

19 A, NS: “existence.” Cf. IV/100.

20 This is Spinoza’s first reference in the correspondence to his Ethics under that title. The fact that the topic referred to is taken up only late in the Ethics as we have it (IVP37S2, IVP72) indicates that the work must already have been well-advanced. But neither of the passages cited is precisely parallel, an indication, as AHW suggest, that in 1665 the manuscript had not yet reached its definitive form.

21 The bracketed portion is not printed in the OP or NS.

22 I/132/8-17. Van Blijenbergh here paraphrases Balling’s Dutch translation.

23 In October 1664 the English had seized the Dutch colony of New Amsterdam. When Dutch protests were ignored, war broke out in March 1665.

24 Robert Hooke’s Micrographia.

25 In the form in which it has come down to us, Part III of the Ethics contains only fifty-nine propositions. But Spinoza is evidently close to the end of the work as he conceives it at this time; since the work in this state clearly contains material which in the finished Ethics occurs only late in Part IV (cf. IV/151, II/136), it appears that at this stage the Ethics was a three-part work. On this, see Freudenthal 5, 1:147-148.

The Metaphysical Moralist

EDITORIAL PREFACE

IN JULY 1675 Oldenburg wrote nervously to Spinoza to inquire about the prospect of publication of the Ethics:

From your reply of 5 July I understand that you intend to publish that five-part Treatise of yours. Permit me, I beg you, to advise you, out of your sincere regard for me, not to include in it anything which may seem in any way whatever, to overthrow the practice of religious virtue.… I shall not decline to receive copies of this Treatise; I would only ask that when the time comes, they be sent by way of a certain Dutch merchant, resident in London, who will see that they are soon forwarded. There will be no need to mention that such books have been sent to me.… (Letter 62, IV/273)

Oldenburg need not have worried. Some time later Spinoza sent him the following reply:

When I received your letter of 22 July, I was on the point of leaving for Amsterdam, to see to the printing of the book I wrote you about. While I was occupied with this, a rumor was spread everywhere that a book of mine about God was in the press, and that in it I strove to show that there is no God. Many people believed this rumor. So certain theologians—who had, perhaps, started the rumor themselves—seized this opportunity to complain about me to the Prince and the magistrates. Moreover, the stupid Cartesians, who are thought to favor me, would not stop trying to remove this suspicion from themselves by denouncing my opinions and writings everywhere.

When I learned this from certain trustworthy men, who also told me that the theologians were everywhere plotting against me, I decided to put off the publication I was planning until I saw how the matter would turn out.… But every day it gets worse, and I am uncertain what to do. (Letter 68, IV/299)

Thus was the world deprived, within Spinoza’s lifetime, of one of the great classics of modern philosophical thought, a work, ironically, that begins by arguing at length for God’s existence, and ends with the conclusion that the knowledge and love of God are man’s greatest good.

When Spinoza died, a year and a half later, his work could be published, and the slow process of recognition could begin. But not until he had been taken up by leading figures of the German enlightenment—by Lessing, Goethe, and Herder, among others—did his work receive much sympathetic attention.1 Since then the Ethics has always had a wide audience, particularly—and in view of its technical difficulty and forbidding form, surprisingly—among people not themselves professional philosophers, but poets, dramatists, and novelists.2

Much of this interest no doubt stems from the psychology and morality of the latter parts of the Ethics, from its serene, but remorseless dissection of human nature, and its (apparent) attempt to establish an acceptable ethic on the unpromising foundation of subjectivism, egoism, and determinism.3 But in part the interest must come also from fascination with the difficult question whether we can really regard as religious a thinker who has rejected so forcefully so much of what has usually been regarded as essential to religion in the West.

This is not the place to try to solve the perennial problems of Spinoza’s philosophy. But some attempt must be made here to disarm the resistance which the axiomatic form of his masterwork seems, inevitably, to arouse. The topic is one on which quite divergent views have been expressed.4

Sometimes, for example, it is suggested that Spinoza’s philosophy required axiomatic exposition, that conceiving the world as he did, as a tightly knit deterministic system, he could not properly have expressed this conception in any other way; or that conceiving knowledge as he did, he would have regarded deduction from self-evident premises as the only suitably scientific way of presenting his philosophy. At the opposite extreme, it is sometimes held that the axiomatic exposition is merely a literary device designed to conceal the author’s personality, to capitalize on the prestige of geometry, or even to avoid the temptation to quote Scripture—but having no further significance.

The truth, I suggest, is that Spinoza’s choice of the axiomatic method represents nothing more, and nothing less, than an awesome commitment to intellectual honesty and clarity. Spinoza wishes to use no important term without explaining the sense in which it is to be understood, to make no crucial assumption without identifying it as a proposition taken to require no argument, to draw no conclusion without being very explicit about why that conclusion is thought to follow from his assumptions. This can be very tedious, as he well realizes (cf. E IVP18 S). But the serious reader who is prepared to use those terms as Spinoza does, and who shares Spinoza’s assumptions, is forced to ask himself why he should not also accept Spinoza’s conclusions. And it is only fair to point out that many of Spinoza’s contemporaries did share those assumptions and did use those terms in a way very close to the way Spinoza used them.5

Again, it is a mistake to suppose that, when Spinoza designates something as an axiom, he really thinks that no one could question it, and is not willing to listen to argument about it. The history of his experiments with axiomatic exposition shows clearly enough that he is prepared to be flexible, and that what at one stage is treated as an axiom, may at a later stage be treated as a theorem, if experience shows that his readers resist the assumption.6 He does, of course, think that some propositions are more suited to be axioms than others. But he is not extravagantly optimistic about the ability of his readers to see what they should see, and this gives him a strong incentive to reduce his assumptions to a minimum (cf. II/49/26 ff.). And any serious attempt at argument must make some assumptions which, for the time being, at least, are not questioned.

But while this line of defense may be sound enough, as far as it goes, it does not go far enough. The difficulty for the modern reader of Spinoza’s Ethics is not so much that he finds flaws in the demonstrations (though he may, of course), nor even that he rejects the axioms (though, again, he may), but that much of the language in which the axioms and demonstrations are framed has by now fallen into disuse, so that its very meaning is quite obscure to him. The clarity the axiomatization seemed to promise is not easy to find. A glossary-index may provide a partial solution to this difficulty. But unless it is very argumentative it cannot deal with the really fundamental problem.

It must be recognized that some of the terms which are central to Spinoza’s philosophy are not merely out of fashion in twentieth-century philosophy, but would be rejected by many philosophers of our time as meaningless. The term ‘substance’ is a good example. For many people these days it is axiomatic that the empiricist critique of this concept demonstrated its bankruptcy. (By “axiomatic” I understand here something we learned when we were first introduced to philosophy.)

And yet it is arguable that this rejection has been too hasty: that the traditional use of the concept of substance was too complex to have been disposed of so simply; that there are two distinguishable strains in that use—the concept of an unknowable subject of predicates, and the concept of an independent being; that the empiricist critique touches only the first of these strains; and that only the second is of much importance for the understanding of Spinoza.7 If this is correct and if other contentious concepts can be similarly rehabilitated, Spinoza’s philosophy may once again be ripe for reevaluation.

These reflections may do something to diminish the resistance many readers have to the form of the Ethics. But there remains the practical problem of how even the reader of good will is to cope with a procedure that makes great demands on his patience.

On a first reading it is probably advisable to concentrate on the propositions, corollaries, scholia, prefaces, and appendices, leaving the demonstrations till later. This will make it easier to grasp the structure of the work, and give the reader some feeling for what is central and what is subsidiary. ‘Corollaries’ are often more important than the proposition they follow, and the scholia often offer more intuitive arguments for the propositions just demonstrated, or reply to what Spinoza regards as natural and important objections. The longer scholia, prefaces, and appendices tend to punctuate major divisions within the work and to sum up key contentions.

On a second reading, of course, it is essential to study the demonstrations carefully. Seeing how a proposition is argued for is often a useful way of clarifying its sense. It is also helpful to check the steps of a demonstration against the citations. For when Spinoza cites an axiom, definition, or proposition in a subsequent demonstration, he sometimes paraphrases it in a way that illuminates what has gone before. And in any case, it is instructive to see what Spinoza takes the implications and significance of a proposition to be. But the best advice is Spinoza’s own—to proceed slowly and to abstain from judgment until everything has been read through (IIP11CS). This is not easy. Spinoza’s philosophy is not easy. But as he also says, all things excellent are as difficult as they are rare (VP42S).

I close with a few observations on the probable date of composition of the Ethics and the status of our text. As we have seen, Spinoza took steps to publish this work in 1675, though it did not appear until 1677 and may have undergone some revision even after 1675. On that ground we might regard the Ethics as a late work, or at any rate, later than the Theological-Political Treatise, published in 1670. On the other hand, we can see from the early correspondence with Oldenburg that Spinoza was circulating drafts of the material for Part I as early as 1661. So we might conclude that Spinoza was occupied with writing this work, off and on, for most of his adult life.

Nevertheless, it now seems possible to be more precise than that about the composition of our text. We know from Letter 28 that toward the middle of 1665 Spinoza was near the end of a first draft of the Ethics (i.e., near the end of the third part of what was probably, at that stage, conceived as a three-part work). Recent research on the relation between the OP and NS versions of the Ethics also suggests certain conclusions about the extent of the revision the first two parts may have undergone after 1665.

Gebhardt had noted (II/315-317, 340-345) that divergences between the OP text and NS translation were much more common in the first two parts of the Ethics than they were in the last three, and that frequently the NS seemed to have more text than the OP had. He inferred from this that the NS translation of E I-II was done from a manuscript that represented an earlier draft of the Ethics and that in revising Spinoza had deliberately omitted certain passages, sometimes to avoid giving unnecessary offense.8 He therefore incorporated many passages from the NS translation into his text. Occasionally9 he translated his additions into Latin. One might question whether the editor of a critical edition should interfere with the text in this way, but Gebhardt believed that the practice of modern editors of Kant’s first Critique provided a precedent for indicating (as he thought) the differences between earlier and later drafts.

I believe that Akkerman (2, 77-176) has definitively refuted this theory and shown the correctness of an alternative account of the variations: that the NS translation of E I-II is essentially the work of Balling,10 while the NS translation of E III-V is by Glazemaker; and that the tendency of the NS version of E I-II to show more text than the NS version of E III-V stems from Balling’s different style of translating, in particular his willingness to take greater liberties with the text than Glazemaker would take. Akkerman makes his case for this via a meticulous examination of the translating styles of the two men in other works they are known to have translated, noting differences in prose style, in the kinds of license they allow themselves, in the kinds of mistakes they are apt to make, and in the way they treat key terms. One hesitates to speak of demonstration in any matter such as this, but Akkerman’s argument is very impressive.

The principal implication of his research, as far as the establishment of the text is concerned, is that where the NS seems to have more text than the OP, this is almost invariably because the translator has amplified the text to make it clearer, or used a pair of Dutch terms to render one Latin term, in the hope of better capturing the implications of the Latin, and not because the text he was translating varied from the OP text.

But Akkerman’s research also, it seems to me, has implications for the study of the development of Spinoza’s thought. If Balling was the author of the translation of E I-II used by the editors of the NS, and if no significant changes were made in that text after Balling translated it, then Balling’s death would provide a date after which Spinoza did not significantly revise Parts I and II. We do not know precisely when Balling died. Clearly it was not before July 1664 (the date of Letter 17) and pretty certainly it was not later than 1669 (cf. AHW, 45), Akkerman (2, 152-153) thinks Balling must have died before June 1665, by which date Spinoza was writing to Bouwmeester about the possibility of his translating Part III. If this is correct, then the metaphysical and epistemological portions of the Ethics would have been in their final form some twelve years before they were published.

Gebhardt’s additions to the text from the NS create a problem for the translator. Shirley’s policy is to ignore them when they are in Dutch and to translate them when Gebhardt has translated them into Latin, but without indicating that what he is translating is an addition from the NS. But this seems to assume that Gebhardt has followed some defensible principle in deciding what to add in Dutch and what to add in Latin, an assumption I see no reason to make. In one way or another I have translated everything that Gebhardt adds from the NS (as well as some variations that Gebhardt does not seem to have noticed). Where it has seemed to me that an addition, even though it probably came originally from the NS translator, was pretty certainly correct and useful, I have generally followed Gebhardt in adding it to the text. I assume that a translator may take liberties that the editor of a critical edition may not. Where one of Gebhardt’s additions has seemed to me doubtfully correct, I have relegated it to a footnote. Wherever a bracketed addition comes from the NS, I have indicated that fact. There is some evidence that Spinoza may have had Balling’s translation of E I-II at his disposal, and indeed, that the copy of that translation used by the NS editors may have been Spinoza’s own (cf. Akkerman 2, 167-168). So additions made from the NS, even if they do originate from a translator, may have been seen and approved by Spinoza.

References to definitions, axioms, propositions, etc., that do not contain an explicit reference to an earlier part of the Ethics are to be understood as referring to the part in which they occur.

Ethics

DEMONSTRATED IN GEOMETRIC ORDER AND DIVIDED INTO FIVE PARTS, WHICH TREAT

I. Of God

II. Of the Nature and Origin of the Mind

III. Of the Origin and Nature of the Affects

IV. Of Human Bondage, or of the Powers of the Affects

V. Of the Power of the Intellect, or of Human Freedom1

[II/45] First Part Of the Ethics
On God

DEFINITIONS

[5] D1: By cause of itself I understand that whose essence involves existence, or that whose nature cannot be conceived except as existing.

D2: That thing is said to be finite in its own kind that can be limited by another of the same nature.

[10] For example, a body is called finite because we always conceive another that is greater. Thus a thought is limited by another thought. But a body is not limited by a thought nor a thought by a body.

D3: By substance I understand what is in itself and is conceived through [15] itself, i.e., that whose concept does not require the concept of another thing, from which it must be formed.

D4: By attribute I understand what the intellect perceives of a substance, as constituting its essence.2

[20] D5: By mode I understand the affections of a substance, or that which is in another through which it is also conceived.

D6: By God I understand a being absolutely infinite, i.e., a substance consisting of an infinity of attributes, of which each one expresses an3 [25] eternal and infinite essence.

[II/46] Exp.: I say absolutely infinite, not infinite in its own kind; for if something is only infinite in its own kind, we can deny infinite attributes of it [NS: (i.e., we can conceive infinite attributes which do not [5] pertain to its nature)];4 but if something is absolutely infinite, whatever expresses essence and involves no negation pertains to its essence.

D7: That thing is called free which exists from the necessity of its nature alone, and is determined to act by itself alone. But a thing is [10] called necessary, or rather compelled, which is determined by another to exist and to produce an effect in a certain and determinate manner.

D8: By eternity I understand existence itself, insofar as it is conceived [15] to follow necessarily from the definition alone of the eternal thing.

Exp.: For such existence, like the essence of a thing,5 is conceived as an eternal truth, and on that account cannot be explained6 by duration or time, even if the duration is conceived to be without beginning or end.

[20] AXIOMS

A1: Whatever is, is either in itself or in another.

A2: What cannot be conceived through another, must be conceived through itself.

A3: From a given determinate cause the effect follows necessarily; and [25] conversely, if there is no determinate cause, it is impossible for an effect to follow.

A4: The knowledge of an effect depends on, and involves, the knowledge of its cause.

A5: Things that have nothing in common with one another also cannot [30] be understood through one another, or the concept of the one does not involve the concept of the other.

[II/47] A6: A true idea must agree with its object.

A7: If a thing can be conceived as not existing, its essence does not involve existence.

[5] P1: A substance7 is prior in nature to its affections.

Dem.: This is evident from D3 and D5.

P2: Two substances having different attributes have nothing in common with [10] one another.8

Dem.: This also evident from D3. For each must be in itself and be conceived through itself, or the concept of the one does not involve the concept of the other.

[15] P3: If things have nothing in common with one another, one of them cannot be the cause of the other.

Dem.: If they have nothing in common with one another, then (by [20] A5) they cannot be understood through one another, and so (by A4) one cannot be the cause of the other, q.e.d.

P4: Two or more distinct things are distinguished from one another, either by a difference in the attributes of the substances or by a difference in their affections.

[25] Dem.: Whatever is, is either in itself or in another (by A1), i.e. (by D3 and D5), outside the intellect there is nothing except substances and their affections. Therefore, there is nothing outside the intellect [30] through which a number of things can be distinguished from one another [II/48] except substances, or what is the same (by D4), their attributes, and their affections,9 q.e.d.

P5: In nature there cannot be two or more substances of the same nature or [5] attribute.

Dem.: If there were two or more distinct substances, they would have to be distinguished from one another either by a difference in their attributes, or by a difference in their affections (by P4). If only by a difference in their attributes, then it will be conceded that there [10] is only one of the same attribute. But if by a difference in their affections, then since a substance is prior in nature to its affections (by P1), if the affections are put to one side and [the substance] is considered in itself, i.e. (by D3 and A6), considered truly, one cannot be conceived to be distinguished from another, i.e. (by P4), there cannot be [15] many, but only one [of the same nature or attribute],10 q.e.d.

P6: One substance cannot be produced by another substance.

Dem.: In nature there cannot be two substances of the same attribute [20] (by P5), i.e. (by P2), which have something in common with each other. Therefore (by P3) one cannot be the cause of the other, or cannot be produced by the other, q.e.d.

Cor.: From this it follows that a substance cannot be produced by [25] anything else. For in nature there is nothing except substances and their affections, as is evident from A1, D3, and D5. But it cannot be produced by a substance (by P6). Therefore, substance absolutely cannot be produced by anything else, q.e.d.

[30] Alternatively: This11 is demonstrated even more easily from the absurdity of its contradictory. For if a substance could be produced by something else, the knowledge of it would have to depend on the knowledge of its cause (by A4). And so (by D3) it would not be a substance.

[I/49] P7: It pertains to the nature of a substance to exist.

Dem.: A substance cannot be produced by anything else (by P6C); [5] therefore it will be the cause of itself, i.e. (by D1), its essence necessarily involves existence, or it pertains to its nature to exist, q.e.d.

P8: Every substance is necessarily infinite.

[10] Dem.: A substance of one attribute12 does not exist unless it is unique (P5), and it pertains to its nature to exist (P7). Of its nature, therefore, it will exist either as finite or as infinite. But not as finite. For then (by D2) it would have to be limited by something else of the same [15] nature, which would also have to exist necessarily (by P7), and so there would be two substances of the same attribute, which is absurd (by P5). Therefore, it exists as infinite, q.e.d.

Schol. 1: Since being finite is really, in part, a negation, and being [20] infinite is an absolute affirmation of the existence of some nature, it follows from P7 alone that every substance must be infinite. [NS: For if we assumed a finite substance, we would, in part, deny existence to its nature, which (by P7) is absurd.]13

[25] Schol. 2:14 I do not doubt that the demonstration of P7 will be difficult to conceive for all who judge things confusedly, and have not been accustomed to know things through their first causes—because they do not distinguish between the modifications15 of substances and the substances themselves, nor do they know how things are produced. [30] So it happens that they fictitiously ascribe to substances the beginning which they see that natural things have; for those who do not know the true causes of things confuse everything and without any conflict of mind feign that both trees and men speak, imagine that men are formed both from stones and from seed, and that any form [35] whatever is changed into any other.16 So also, those who confuse the divine nature with the human easily ascribe human affects to God, particularly so long as they are also ignorant of how those affects are [II/50] produced in the mind.

But if men would attend to the nature of substance, they would have no doubt at all of the truth of P7. Indeed, this proposition would be an axiom for everyone, and would be numbered among the common notions. For by substance they would understand what is in itself [5] and is conceived through itself, i.e., that the knowledge of which does not require the knowledge of any other thing.17 But by modifications they would understand what is in another, those things whose concept is formed from the concept of the thing in which they are.

This is how we can have true ideas of modifications which do not exist; for though they do not actually exist outside the intellect, nevertheless [10] their essences are comprehended in another in such a way that they can be conceived through it. But the truth of substances is not outside the intellect unless it is in them themselves,18 because they are conceived through themselves.

Hence, if someone were to say that he had a clear and distinct, i.e., true, idea of a substance, and nevertheless doubted whether such a substance existed, that would indeed be the same as if he were to say [15] that he had a true idea, and nevertheless doubted whether it was false (as is evident to anyone who is sufficiently attentive). Or if someone maintains that a substance is created,19 he maintains at the same time that a false idea has become true.20 Of course nothing more absurd can be conceived. So it must be confessed that the existence of a substance, like its essence, is an eternal truth.

[20] And from this we can infer in another way that there is only one [substance] of the same nature, which I have considered it worth the trouble of showing here.21 But to do this in order, it must be noted,

I. that the true definition of each thing neither involves nor expresses anything except the nature of the thing defined.

From which it follows,

II. that no definition involves or expresses any certain number of [25] individuals,[a]

since it expresses nothing other than the nature of the thing defined. E.g., the definition of the triangle expresses nothing but the simple nature of the triangle, but not any certain number of triangles. It is to be noted,

III. that there must be, for each existing thing, a certain cause22 on account of which it exists.

[30] Finally, it is to be noted,

IV. that this cause, on account of which a thing exists, either must be contained in the very nature and definition of the existing thing (viz. that it pertains to its nature to exist) or must be outside it.

From these propositions it follows that if, in nature, a certain number [35] of individuals exists, there must be a cause why those individuals, and [II/51] why neither more nor fewer, exist.

For example, if 20 men exist in nature (to make the matter clearer, I assume that they exist at the same time, and that no others previously existed in nature), it will not be enough (i.e., to give a reason why 20 men exist) [5] to show the cause of human nature in general; but it will be necessary in addition to show the cause why not more and not fewer than 20 exist. For (by III) there must necessarily be a cause why each [NS: particular man] exists. But this cause (by II and III) cannot be contained in human nature itself, since the true definition of man does [10] not involve the number 20. So (by IV) the cause why these 20 men exist, and consequently, why each of them exists, must necessarily be outside each of them.

For that reason it is to be inferred absolutely that whatever is of such a nature that there can be many individuals [of that nature] must, to exist, have an external cause to exist. Now since it pertains to the [15] nature of a substance to exist (by what we have already shown in this Scholium),23 its definition must involve necessary existence, and consequently its existence must be inferred from its definition alone. But from its definition (as we have shown from II and III) the existence of a number of substances cannot follow. Therefore it follows necessarily [20] from this, that there exists only one of the same nature, as was proposed.

P9: The more reality or being each thing has, the more attributes belong to it.

[25] Dem.: This is evident from D4.

P10: Each attribute of a substance must be conceived through itself.

[30] Dem.: For an attribute is what the intellect perceives concerning a substance, as constituting its essence (by D4); so (by D3) it must be conceived through itself, q.e.d.

[II/52] Schol.: From these propositions it is evident that although two attributes may be conceived to be really distinct (i.e., one may be conceived without the aid of the other), we still can not infer from that that they constitute two beings, or two different substances.24 For it [5] is of the nature of a substance that each of its attributes is conceived through itself, since all the attributes it has have always been in it together, and one could not be produced by another, but each expresses the reality, or being of substance.

So it is far from absurd to attribute many attributes to one substance. [10] Indeed, nothing in nature is clearer than that each being must be conceived under some attribute, and the more reality, or being it has, the more it has attributes which express necessity, or eternity, and infinity. And consequently there is also nothing clearer than that [15] a being absolutely infinite must be defined (as we taught in D6) as a being that consists of infinite attributes, each of which expresses a certain eternal and infinite essence.25

But if someone now asks by what sign we shall be able to distinguish the diversity of substances, let him read the following propositions, which show that in Nature there exists only one substance, and [20] that it is absolutely infinite. So that sign would be sought in vain.

P11: God, or a substance consisting of infinite attributes, each of which expresses [25] eternal and infinite essence, necessarily exists.

Dem.: If you deny this, conceive, if you can, that God does not exist. Therefore (by A7) his essence does not involve existence. But this (by P7) is absurd. Therefore God necessarily exists, q.e.d.

[30] Alternatively: For each thing there must be assigned a cause, or reason, as much for its existence as for its nonexistence. For example, if a triangle exists, there must be a reason or cause why it exists; but [II/53] if it does not exist, there must also be a reason or cause which prevents it from existing, or which takes its existence away.

But this reason, or cause, must either be contained in the nature of the thing, or be outside it. E.g., the very nature of a square circle indicates the reason why it does not exist, viz. because it involves a [5] contradiction. On the other hand, the reason why a substance exists also follows from its nature alone, because it involves existence (see P7). But the reason why a circle or triangle exists, or why it does not exist, does not follow from the nature of these things, but from the order of the whole of corporeal Nature. For from this [order] it must follow either that the triangle necessarily exists now or that it is impossible [10] for it to exist now.26

These things are evident through themselves, but from them it follows that a thing necessarily exists if there is no reason or cause which prevents it from existing. Therefore, if there is no reason or cause which prevents God from existing, or which takes his existence away, it must certainly be inferred that he necessarily exists.

[15] But if there were such a reason, or cause, it would have to be either in God’s very nature or outside it, i.e., in another substance of another nature. For if it were of the same nature, that very supposition would concede that God exists. But a substance which was of another nature [NS: than the divine] would have nothing in common with God (by [20] P2), and therefore could neither give him existence nor take it away.27

Since, then, there can be, outside the divine nature, no reason, or, cause which takes away the divine existence, the reason will necessarily have to be in his nature itself, if indeed he does not exist. That is, his nature would involve a contradiction [NS: as in our second Example]. [25] But it is absurd to affirm this of a Being absolutely infinite and supremely perfect. Therefore, there is no cause, or reason, either in God or outside God, which takes his existence away. And therefore, God necessarily exists, q.e.d.

Alternatively: To be able not to exist is to lack power, and conversely, [30] to be able to exist is to have power28 (as is known through itself). So, if what now necessarily exists are only finite beings, then finite beings are more powerful than an absolutely infinite Being. But this, as is known through itself, is absurd. So, either nothing exists or an absolutely infinite Being also exists. But we exist, either in ourselves, or in something else, which necessarily exists (see A1 and P7). [35] Therefore an absolutely infinite Being—i.e. (by D6), God—necessarily exists, q.e.d.

[II/54] Schol.: In this last demonstration I wanted to show God’s existence a posteriori, so that the demonstration would be perceived more easily—but not because God’s existence does not follow a priori from the [5] same foundation. For since being able to exist is power, it follows that the more reality belongs to the nature of a thing, the more powers it has, of itself, to exist. Therefore, an absolutely infinite Being, or God, has, of himself, an absolutely infinite power of existing. For that reason, he exists absolutely.

Still, there may be many who will not easily be able to see how [10] evident this demonstration is, because they have been accustomed to contemplate only those things that flow from external causes. And of these, they see that those which quickly come to be, i.e., which easily exist,29 also easily perish. And conversely, they judge that those things to which they conceive more things to pertain are more difficult to do, [15] i.e., that they do not exist so easily.30 But to free them from these prejudices, I have no need to show here in what manner this proposition—what quickly comes to be, quickly perishes—is true, nor whether or not all things are equally easy in respect to the whole of Nature. It is sufficient to note only this, that I am not here speaking of things that come to be from external causes, but only of substances that (by P6) [20] can be produced by no external cause.

For things that come to be from external causes—whether they consist of many parts or of few—owe all the perfection or reality they have to the power of the external cause; and therefore their existence arises only from the perfection of their external cause, and not from their own perfection. On the other hand, whatever perfection substance [25] has is not owed to any external cause. So its existence must follow from its nature alone; hence its existence is nothing but its essence.

Perfection, therefore, does not take away the existence of a thing, but on the contrary asserts it. But imperfection takes it away. So there is nothing of whose existence we can be more certain than we are of [30] the existence of an absolutely infinite, or perfect, Being—i.e., God. For since his essence excludes all imperfection, and involves absolute perfection, by that very fact it takes away every cause of doubting his existence, and gives the greatest certainty concerning it. I believe this will be clear even to those who are only moderately attentive.

[II/55] P12: No attribute of a substance can be truly conceived from which it follows that the substance can be divided.

[5] Dem.: For the parts into which a substance so conceived would be divided either will retain the nature of the substance or will not. If the first [NS: viz. they retain the nature of the substance], then (by P8) each part will have to be infinite, and (by P7)31 its own cause, and (by P5) each part will have to consist of a different attribute. And so [10] many substances will be able to be formed from one, which is absurd (by P6). Furthermore, the parts (by P2) would have nothing in common with their whole, and the whole (by D4 and P10) could both be and be conceived without its parts, which is absurd, as no one will be able to doubt.

[15] But if the second is asserted, viz. that the parts will not retain the nature of substance, then since the whole substance would be divided into equal parts,32 it would lose the nature of substance, and would cease to be, which (by P7) is absurd.

[20] P13: A substance which is absolutely infinite is indivisible.

Dem.: For if it were divisible, the parts into which it would be divided will either retain the nature of an absolutely infinite substance or they will not. If the first, then there will be a number of substances [26] of the same nature, which (by P5) is absurd. But if the second is asserted, then (as above [NS: P12]), an absolutely infinite substance will be able to cease to be, which (by P11) is also absurd.

Cor.: From these [propositions] it follows that no substance, and consequently no corporeal substance, insofar as it is a substance,33 is [30] divisible.

Schol.: That substance is indivisible, is understood more simply merely from this, that the nature of substance cannot be conceived unless as infinite, and that by a part of substance nothing can be [II/56] understood except a finite substance, which (by P8) implies a plain contradiction.

P14: Except God, no substance can be or be conceived.

[5] Dem.: Since God is an absolutely infinite being, of whom no attribute which expresses an essence of substance can be denied (by D6), and he necessarily exists (by P11), if there were any substance except God, it would have to be explained through some attribute of God, [10] and so two substances of the same attribute would exist, which (by P5) is absurd. And so except God, no substance can be or, consequently, be conceived. For if it could be conceived, it would have to be conceived as existing. But this (by the first part of this demonstration) is absurd. Therefore, except for God no substance can be or be [15] conceived, q.e.d.

Cor. 1: From this it follows most clearly, first, that God is unique,34 i.e. (by D6), that in Nature there is only one substance, and that it is absolutely infinite (as we indicated in P10S).

[20] Cor. 2: It follows, second, that an extended thing and a thinking thing are either attributes of God, or (by A1) affections of God’s attributes.

[25] P15: Whatever is, is in God, and nothing can be or be conceived without God.

Dem.: Except for God, there neither is, nor can be conceived, any substance (by P14), i.e. (by D3), thing that is in itself and is conceived through itself. But modes (by D5) can neither be nor be conceived [30] without substance. So they can be in the divine nature alone, and can be conceived through it alone. But except for substances and modes [II/57] there is nothing (by A1). Therefore, [NS: everything is in God and] nothing can be or be conceived without God, q.e.d.

Schol.: [I.]35 There are those who feign a God, like man, consisting [5] of a body and a mind, and subject to passions. But how far they wander from the true knowledge of God, is sufficiently established by what has already been demonstrated. Them I dismiss. For everyone who has to any extent contemplated the divine nature denies that God is corporeal. They prove this best from the fact that by body we [10] understand any quantity, with length, breadth, and depth, limited by some certain figure. Nothing more absurd than this can be said of God, viz. of a being absolutely infinite.

But meanwhile, by the other arguments by which they strive to demonstrate this same conclusion they clearly show that they entirely remove corporeal, or extended,36 substance itself from the divine nature. And they maintain that it has been created by God. But by what [15] divine power could it be created? They are completely ignorant of that. And this shows clearly that they do not understand what they themselves say.

At any rate, I have demonstrated clearly enough—in my judgment, at least—that no substance can be produced or created by any other (see P6C and P8S2). Next, we have shown (P14) that except for God, [20] no substance can either be or be conceived, and hence [in P14C2]37 we have concluded that extended substance is one of God’s infinite attributes. But to provide a fuller explanation, I shall refute my opponents’ arguments, which all reduce to these.

[25] [II.] First, they think that corporeal substance, insofar as it is substance, consists of parts. And therefore they deny that it can be infinite, and consequently, that it can pertain to God. They explain this by many examples, of which I shall mention one or two.38

[i] If corporeal substance is infinite, they say, let us conceive it to be divided in two parts.39 Each part will be either finite or infinite. If [30] the former, then an infinite is composed of two finite parts, which is absurd. If the latter [NS: i.e., if each part is infinite], then there is one infinite twice as large as another, which is also absurd, [ii] Again, if an infinite quantity is measured by parts [each] equal to a foot, it [35] will consist of infinitely many such parts, as it will also, if it is measured by parts [each] equal to an inch. And therefore, one infinite number will be twelve times greater than another [NS: which is no less absurd], [iii] Finally, if we conceive that from one point of a certain [II/58] infinite quantity two lines, say AB and AC, are extended to infinity, it is certain that, although in the beginning they are a certain, determinate distance [5] apart, the distance between B and C is continuously increased, and at last, from being determinate, it will become indeterminable. Since these absurdities follow—so they think—from the fact that an infinite quantity is supposed, they infer that corporeal substance must be finite, and consequently cannot pertain to God’s essence.

[10] [III.] Their second argument is also drawn from God’s supreme perfection. For God, they say, since he is a supremely perfect being, cannot be acted on. But corporeal substance, since it is divisible, can be acted on. It follows, therefore, that it does not pertain to God’s essence.40

[IV.] These are the arguments which I find authors using, to try to [15] show that corporeal substance is unworthy of the divine nature, and cannot pertain to it. But anyone who is properly attentive will find that I have already replied to them, since these arguments are founded only on their supposition that corporeal substance is composed of parts, which I have already (P12 and P13C) shown to be absurd. And then [20] anyone who wishes to consider the matter rightly will see that all those absurdities (if indeed they are all absurd, which I am not now disputing), from which they wish to infer that extended substance is finite, do not follow at all from the fact that an infinite quantity is supposed, but from the fact that they suppose an infinite quantity to be measurable [25] and composed of finite parts. So from the absurdities which follow from that they can infer only that infinite quantity is not measurable, and that it is not composed of finite parts. This is the same thing we have already demonstrated above (P12, etc.). So the weapon they aim at us, they really turn against themselves.

[30] If, therefore, they still wish to infer from this absurdity of theirs that extended substance must be finite, they are indeed doing nothing more than if someone feigned that a circle has the properties of a square, and inferred from that the circle has no center, from which all lines drawn to the circumference are equal. For corporeal substance, [35] which cannot be conceived except as infinite, unique, and indivisible [II/59] (see P8, 5 and 12), they conceive to be composed of finite parts, to be many, and to be divisible, in order to infer that it is finite.

So also others, after they feign that a line is composed of points, [5] know how to invent many arguments, by which they show that a line cannot be divided to infinity. And indeed it is no less absurd to assert that corporeal substance is composed of bodies, or parts, than that a body is composed of surfaces, the surfaces of lines, and the lines, finally, of points.

[10] All those who know that clear reason is infallible must confess this—particularly those who deny that there is a vacuum. For if corporeal substance could be so divided that its parts were really distinct, why, then, could one part not be annihilated, the rest remaining connected with one another as before? And why must they all be so fitted together that there is no vacuum? Truly, of things which are really [15] distinct from one another, one can be, and remain in its condition, without the other. Since, therefore, there is no vacuum in nature (a subject I discuss elsewhere),41 but all its parts must so concur that there is no vacuum, it follows also that they cannot be really distinguished, i.e., that corporeal substance, insofar as it is a substance, cannot be divided.

[20] [V.] If someone should now ask why we are, by nature, so inclined to divide quantity, I shall answer that we conceive quantity in two ways: abstractly, or superficially,42 as we [NS: commonly] imagine it, or as substance, which is done by the intellect alone [NS: without the [25] help of the imagination]. So if we attend to quantity as it is in the imagination, which we do often and more easily, it will be found to be finite, divisible, and composed of parts; but if we attend to it as it is in the intellect, and conceive it insofar as it is a substance, which happens [NS: seldom and] with great difficulty, then (as we have already sufficiently demonstrated) it will be found to be infinite, unique, [30] and indivisible.

This will be sufficiently plain to everyone who knows how to distinguish between the intellect and the imagination—particularly if it is also noted that matter is everywhere the same, and that parts are distinguished in it only insofar as we conceive matter to be affected in different ways, so that its parts are distinguished only modally, but [35] not really.

[II/60] For example, we conceive that water is divided and its parts separated from one another—insofar as it is water, but not insofar as it is corporeal substance. For insofar as it is substance, it is neither separated nor divided. Again, water, insofar as it is water, is generated and corrupted, but insofar as it is substance, it is neither generated nor corrupted.

[5] [VI.] And with this I think I have replied to the second argument also, since it is based on the supposition that matter, insofar as it is substance, is divisible, and composed of parts. Even if this [reply] were not [sufficient], I do not know why [divisibility] would be unworthy of the divine nature. For (by P14) apart from God there can [10] be no substance by which [the divine nature] would be acted on. All things, I say, are in God, and all things that happen, happen only through the laws of God’s infinite nature and follow (as I shall show) from the necessity of his essence. So it cannot be said in any way that God is acted on by another, or that extended substance is unworthy of the divine nature, even if it is supposed to be divisible, so long as [15] it is granted to be eternal and infinite. But enough of this for the present.

P16: From the necessity of the divine nature there must follow infinitely many things in infinitely many modes,43 (i.e., everything which can fall under an infinite intellect.)44

[20] Dem.: This Proposition must be plain to anyone, provided he attends to the fact that the intellect infers from the given definition of any thing a number of properties that really do follow necessarily from it (i.e., from the very essence of the thing); and that it infers more [25] properties the more the definition of the thing expresses reality, i.e., the more reality the essence of the defined thing involves. But since the divine nature has absolutely infinite attributes (by D6), each of which also expresses an essence infinite in its own kind, from its necessity there must follow infinitely many things in infinite modes (i.e., [30] everything which can fall under an infinite intellect), q.e.d.

Cor. 1: From this it follows that God is the efficient cause of all things which can fall under an infinite intellect.

[II/61] Cor. 2: It follows, secondly, that God is a cause through himself and not an accidental cause.45

Cor. 3: It follows, thirdly, that God is absolutely the first cause.

[5] P17: God acts from the laws of his nature alone, and is compelled by no one.

Dem.: We have just shown (P16) that from the necessity of the divine nature alone, or (what is the same thing) from the laws of his [10] nature alone, absolutely infinite things follow, and in P15 we have demonstrated that nothing can be or be conceived without God, but that all things are in God. So there can be nothing outside him by which he is determined or compelled to act. Therefore, God acts from [15] the laws of his nature alone, and is compelled by no one, q.e.d.

Cor. 1: From this it follows, first, that there is no cause, either extrinsically or intrinsically, which prompts God to action, except the [20] perfection of his nature.46

Cor. 2: It follows, secondly, that God alone is a free cause. For God alone exists only from the necessity of his nature (by P11 and P14C1), and acts from the necessity of his nature (by P17). Therefore (by D7) [25] God alone is a free cause, q.e.d.

Schol.: [I.] Others47 think that God is a free cause because he can (so they think) bring it about that the things which we have said follow from his nature (i.e., which are in his power) do not happen or are not [30] produced by him. But this is the same as if they were to say that God can bring it about that it would not follow from the nature of a triangle that its three angles are equal to two right angles; or that from a given [II/62] cause the effect would not follow—which is absurd.

Further, I shall show later, without the aid of this Proposition, that neither intellect nor will pertain to God’s nature. Of course I know there are many who think they can demonstrate that a supreme intellect [5] and a free will pertain to God’s nature. For they say they know nothing they can ascribe to God more perfect than what is the highest perfection in us.

Moreover, even if they conceive God to actually understand in the highest degree, they still do not believe that he can bring it about that all the things he actually understands exist. For they think that in that [10] way they would destroy God’s power. If he had created all the things in his intellect (they say), then he would have been able to create nothing more, which they believe to be incompatible with God’s omnipotence. So they preferred to maintain that God is indifferent to all things, not creating anything except what he has decreed to create by some absolute will.

[15] But I think I have shown clearly enough (see P16) that from God’s supreme power, or infinite nature, infinitely many things in infinitely many modes, i.e., all things, have necessarily flowed, or always follow, by the same necessity and in the same way as from the nature of a triangle it follows, from eternity and to eternity, that its three angles are equal to two right angles. So God’s omnipotence48 has been actual [20] from eternity and will remain in the same actuality to eternity. And in this way, at least in my opinion, God’s omnipotence is maintained far more perfectly.

Indeed—to speak openly—my opponents seem to deny God’s omnipotence. For they are forced to confess that God understands infinitely many creatable things, which nevertheless he will never be able [25] to create. For otherwise, if he created everything he understood [NS: to be creatable] he would (according to them) exhaust his omnipotence and render himself imperfect. Therefore to maintain that God is perfect, they are driven to maintain at the same time that he cannot bring about everything to which his power extends. I do not see what could be feigned which would be more absurd than this or more contrary to [30] God’s omnipotence.

[II.] Further—to say something here also about the intellect and will which we commonly attribute to God—if will and intellect do pertain to the eternal essence of God,49 we must of course understand by each of these attributes something different from what men commonly understand. [35] For the intellect and will which would constitute God’s essence [II/63] would have to differ entirely from our intellect and will, and could not agree with them in anything except the name. They would not agree with one another any more than do the dog that is a heavenly constellation and the dog that is a barking animal. I shall demonstrate this.

If intellect pertains to the divine nature, it will not be able to be [5] (like our intellect) by nature either posterior to (as most would have it), or simultaneous with, the things understood, since God is prior in causality to all things (by P16C1). On the contrary, the truth and formal essence of things is what it is because it exists objectively in that way in God’s intellect.50 So God’s intellect, insofar as it is conceived [10] to constitute God’s essence, is really the cause both of the essence and of the existence of things. This seems also to have been noticed by those who asserted that God’s intellect, will and power are one and the same.

Therefore, since God’s intellect is the only cause of things (viz. as [15] we have shown, both of their essence and of their existence), he must necessarily differ from them both as to his essence and as to his existence. For what is caused differs from its cause precisely in what it has from the cause [NS: for that reason it is called the effect of such a cause].51 E.g., a man is the cause of the existence of another man, but not of his essence, for the latter is an eternal truth. Hence, they can [20] agree entirely according to their essence. But in existing they must differ. And for that reason, if the existence of one perishes, the other’s existence will not thereby perish. But if the essence of one could be destroyed, and become false, the other’s essence would also be destroyed [NS: and become false].

So the thing that is the cause both of the essence and of the existence [25] of some effect, must differ from such an effect, both as to its essence and as to its existence. But God’s intellect is the cause both of the essence and of the existence of our intellect. Therefore, God’s intellect, insofar as it is conceived to constitute the divine essence, differs from our intellect both as to its essence and as to its existence, [30] and cannot agree with it in anything except in name, as we supposed. The proof proceeds in the same way concerning the will, as anyone can easily see.

P18: God is the immanent, not the transitive, cause of all things.

[II/64] Dem.: Everything that is, is in God, and must be conceived through God (by P15), and so (by P16C1) God is the cause of [NS: all] things, which are in him. That is the first [thing to be proven]. And then [5] outside God there can be no substance (by P14), i.e. (by D3), thing which is in itself outside God. That was the second. God, therefore, is the immanent, not the transitive cause of all things,52 q.e.d.

P19: God is eternal, or all God’s attributes are eternal.

[10] Dem.: For God (by D6) is substance, which (by P11) necessarily exists, i.e. (by P7), to whose nature it pertains to exist, or (what is the same) from whose definition it follows that he exists; and therefore (by D8), he is eternal.

[15] Next, by God’s attributes are to be understood what (by D4) expresses an essence of the Divine substance, i.e., what pertains to substance. The attributes themselves, I say, must involve it itself. But eternity pertains to the nature of substance (as I have already demonstrated from P7). Therefore each of the attributes must involve eternity, [20] and so, they are all eternal, q.e.d.

Schol.: This Proposition is also as clear as possible from the way I have demonstrated God’s existence (P11). For from that demonstration, I say, it is established that God’s existence, like his essence, is an eternal truth. And then I have also demonstrated God’s eternity in [25] another way (Descartes’ Principles IP19), and there is no need to repeat it here.

P20: God’s existence and his essence are one and the same.

[30] Dem.: God (by P19) and all of his attributes are eternal, i.e. (by D8), each of his attributes expresses existence. Therefore, the same attributes of God which (by D4) explain God’s eternal essence at the [35] same time explain his eternal existence, i.e., that itself which constitutes [II/65] God’s essence at the same time constitutes his existence. So his existence and his essence are one and the same, q.e.d.

Cor. 1: From this it follows, first, that God’s existence, like his [5] essence, is an eternal truth.

Cor. 2: It follows, secondly, that God, or all of God’s attributes, are immutable. For if they changed as to their existence, they would also (by P20) change as to their essence, i.e. (as is known through itself), [10] from being true become false, which is absurd.

P21: All the things which follow from the absolute nature of any of God’s attributes have always53 had to exist and be infinite, or are, through the same attribute, eternal and infinite.

[15] Dem.: If you deny this, then conceive (if you can) that in some attribute of God there follows from its absolute nature something that is finite and has a determinate existence, or duration, e.g., God’s idea54 in thought. Now since thought is supposed to be an attribute of God, [20] it is necessarily (by P11) infinite by its nature. But insofar as it has God’s idea, [thought] is supposed to be finite. But (by D2) [thought] cannot be conceived to be finite unless it is determined through thought itself. But [thought can] not [be determined] through thought itself, insofar as it constitutes God’s idea, for to that extent [thought] is supposed to be finite. Therefore, [thought must be determined] through [25] thought insofar as it does not constitute God’s idea, which [thought] nevertheless (by P11) must necessarily exist. Therefore, there is thought55 which does not constitute God’s idea, and on that account God’s idea does not follow necessarily from the nature [of this thought] insofar as it is absolute thought (for [thought] is conceived both as constituting God’s idea and as not constituting it). [That God’s idea does not follow from thought, insofar as it is absolute thought] is contrary to the hypothesis. [30] So if God’s idea in thought, or anything else in any attribute of God (for it does not matter what example is taken, since the demonstration is universal), follows from the necessity of the absolute nature of the attribute itself, it must necessarily be infinite. This was the first thing to be proven.

Next, what follows in this way from the necessity of the nature of [II/66] any attribute cannot have a determinate [NS: existence, or] duration. For if you deny this, then suppose there is, in some attribute of God, a thing which follows from the necessity of the nature of that attribute—e.g., God’s idea in thought—and suppose that at some time [this [5] idea] did not exist or will not exist. But since thought is supposed to be an attribute of God, it must exist necessarily and be immutable56 (by P11 and P20C2). So beyond the limits of the duration of God’s idea (for it is supposed that at some time [this idea] did not exist or will not exist) thought will have to exist without God’s idea. But this is contrary to the hypothesis, for it is supposed that God’s idea follows [10] necessarily from the given thought. Therefore, God’s idea in thought, or anything else which follows necessarily from the absolute nature of some attribute of God, cannot have a determinate duration, but through the same attribute is eternal. This was the second thing [NS: to be proven]. Note that the same is to be affirmed of any thing which, in [15] some attribute of God, follows necessarily from God’s absolute nature.

P22: Whatever follows from some attribute of God insofar as it is modified by a modification which, through the same attribute, exists necessarily and is [20] infinite, must also exist necessarily and be infinite.57

Dem.: The demonstration of this proposition proceeds in the same way as the demonstration of the preceding one.

[25] P23: Every mode which exists necessarily and is infinite has necessarily had to follow either from the absolute nature of some attribute of God, or from some attribute, modified by a modification which exists necessarily and is infinite.

[30] Dem.: For a mode is in another, through which it must be conceived (by D5), i.e. (by P15), it is in God alone, and can be conceived [II/67] through God alone. So if a mode is conceived to exist necessarily and be infinite, [its necessary existence and infinitude] must necessarily be inferred, or perceived through some attribute of God, insofar as that attribute is conceived to express infinity and necessity of existence, or [5] (what is the same, by D8) eternity, i.e. (by D6 and P19), insofar as it is considered absolutely. Therefore, the mode, which exists necessarily and is infinite, has had to follow from the absolute nature of some attribute of God—either immediately (see P21) or by some mediating modification, which follows from its absolute nature, i.e. (by P22), [10] which exists necessarily and is infinite, q.e.d.

P24: The essence of things produced by God does not involve existence.

Dem.: This is evident from D1. For that whose nature involves [15] existence (considered in itself), is its own cause, and exists only from the necessity of its nature.

Cor.: From this it follows that God is not only the cause of things’ beginning to exist, but also of their persevering in existing, or (to use [20] a Scholastic term) God is the cause of the being of things. For—whether the things [NS: produced] exist or not—so long as we attend to their essence, we shall find that it involves neither existence nor duration. So their essence can be the cause neither of their existence nor of their duration, but only God, to whose nature alone it pertains to exist [25] [,can be the cause] (by P14C1).

P25: God is the efficient cause, not only of the existence of things, but also of their essence.

[30] Dem.: If you deny this, then God is not the cause of the essence of things; and so (by A4) the essence of things can be conceived without [II/68] God. But (by P15) this is absurd. Therefore God is also the cause of the essence of things, q.e.d.

Schol.: This Proposition follows more clearly from P16. For from [5] that it follows that from the given divine nature both the essence of things and their existence must necessarily be inferred; and in a word, God must be called the cause of all things in the same sense in which he is called the cause of himself. This will be established still more clearly from the following corollary.

[10] Cor.: Particular things are nothing but affections of God’s attributes, or modes by which God’s attributes are expressed in a certain and determinate way. The demonstration is evident from P15 and D5.

[15] P26: A thing which has been determined to produce an effect has necessarily been determined in this way by God; and one which has not been determined by God cannot determine itself to produce an effect.

Dem.: That through which things are said to be determined to produce [20] an effect must be something positive (as is known through itself). And so, God, from the necessity of his nature, is the efficient cause both of its essence and of its existence (by P25 & 16); this was the first thing. And from it the second thing asserted also follows very clearly. For if a thing which has not been determined by God could determine itself, the first part of this [NS: proposition] would be false, which is [25] absurd, as we have shown.

P27: A thing which has been determined by God to produce an effect, cannot render itself undetermined.

[30] Dem.: This proposition is evident from A3.

[II/69] P28: Every singular thing, or any thing which is finite and has a determinate existence, can neither exist nor be determined to produce an effect unless it is [5] determined to exist and produce an effect by another cause, which is also finite and has a determinate existence; and again, this cause also can neither exist nor be determined to produce an effect unless it is determined to exist and produce an effect by another, which is also finite and has a determinate existence, and so on, to infinity.58

[10] Dem.: Whatever has been determined to exist and produce an effect has been so determined by God (by P26 and P24C). But what is finite and has a determinate existence could not have been produced by the absolute nature of an attribute of God; for whatever follows from the [15] absolute nature of an attribute of God is eternal and infinite (by P21). It had, therefore, to follow either from God or from an attribute of God insofar as it is considered to be affected by some mode. For there is nothing except substance and its modes (by A1, D3, and D5) and [20] modes (by P25C) are nothing but affections of God’s attributes. But it also could not follow from God, or from an attribute of God, insofar as it is affected by a modification which is eternal and infinite (by P22). It had, therefore, to follow from, or be determined to exist and produce an effect by God or an attribute of God insofar as it is modified [25] by a modification which is finite and has a determinate existence. This was the first thing to be proven.

And in turn, this cause, or this mode (by the same reasoning by which we have already demonstrated the first part of this proposition) had also to be determined by another, which is also finite and has a determinate existence; and again, this last (by the same reasoning) by [30] another, and so always (by the same reasoning) to infinity, q.e.d.

[II/70] Schol.: Since certain things had to be produced by God immediately, viz. those which follow necessarily from his absolute nature, and others (which nevertheless can neither be nor be conceived without God) had to be produced by the mediation of these first things,59 it follows:

[5] I. That God is absolutely the proximate cause of the things produced immediately by him, and not [a proximate cause] in his own kind, as they say.60 For God’s effects can neither be nor be conceived without their cause (by P15 and P24C).

II. That God cannot properly be called the remote cause of singular [10] things, except perhaps so that we may distinguish them from those things that he has produced immediately, or rather, that follow from his absolute nature. For by a remote cause we understand one which is not conjoined in any way with its effect. But all things that are, are in God, and so depend on God that they can neither be nor be conceived [15] without him.

P29: In nature there is nothing contingent, but all things have been determined from the necessity of the divine nature to exist and produce an effect in a certain way.

[20] Dem.: Whatever is, is in God (by P15); but God cannot be called a contingent thing. For (by P11) he exists necessarily, not contingently. Next, the modes of the divine nature have also followed from it necessarily and not contingently (by P16)—either insofar as the divine [25] nature is considered absolutely (by P21) or insofar as it is considered to be determined to act in a certain way (by P28).61 Further, God is the cause of these modes not only insofar as they simply exist (by P24C), but also (by P26) insofar as they are considered to be determined [30] to produce an effect. For if they have not been determined by God, then (by P26) it is impossible, not contingent, that they should [II/71] determine themselves. Conversely (by P27) if they have been determined by God, it is not contingent, but impossible, that they should render themselves undetermined. So all things have been determined from the necessity of the divine nature, not only to exist, but to exist in a certain way, and to produce effects in a certain way. There is nothing contingent, q.e.d.

[5] Schol.: Before I proceed further, I wish to explain here—or rather to advise [the reader]—what we must understand by Natura naturans and Natura naturata. For from the preceding I think it is already established that by Natura naturans we must understand what is in itself [10] and is conceived through itself, or such attributes of substance as express an eternal and infinite essence, i.e. (by P14C1 and P17C2), God, insofar as he is considered as a free cause.

But by Natura naturata I understand whatever follows from the necessity of God’s nature, or from any of God’s attributes, i.e., all the [15] modes of God’s attributes insofar as they are considered as things which are in God, and can neither be nor be conceived without God.

P30: An actual intellect, whether finite or infinite,62 must comprehend God’s attributes and God’s affections, and nothing else.

[20] Dem.: A true idea must agree with its object (by A6), i.e. (as is known through itself), what is contained objectively in the intellect must necessarily be in nature. But in nature (by P14C1) there is only one substance, viz. God, and there are no affections other than those [25] which are in God (by P15) and which can neither be nor be conceived without God (by P15). Therefore, an actual intellect, whether finite or infinite, must comprehend God’s attributes and God’s affections, and nothing else, q.e.d.

[30] P31: The actual intellect, whether finite or infinite, like will, desire, love, etc., must be referred to Natura naturata, not to Natura naturans.63

[II/72] Dem.: By intellect (as is known through itself) we understand not absolute thought, but only a certain mode of thinking, which mode differs from the others, such as desire, love, etc., and so (by D5) must [5] be conceived through absolute thought, i.e. (by P15 and D6), it must be so conceived through an attribute of God, which expresses the eternal and infinite essence of thought, that can neither be nor be conceived without [that attribute]; and so (by P29S), like the other modes of thinking, it must be referred to Natura naturata, not to Natura [10] naturans, q.e.d.

Schol.: The reason why I speak here of actual intellect is not because I concede that there is any potential intellect, but because, wishing to avoid all confusion, I wanted to speak only of what we perceive [15] as clearly as possible, i.e., of the intellection itself. We perceive nothing more clearly than that. For we can understand nothing that does not lead to more perfect knowledge of the intellection.

[20] P32: The will cannot be called a free cause, but only a necessary one.

Dem.: The will, like the intellect,64 is only a certain mode of thinking. And so (by P28) each volition can neither exist nor be determined to produce an effect unless it is determined by another cause, and this [25] cause again by another, and so on, to infinity. Even if the will be supposed to be infinite,65 it must still be determined to exist and produce an effect by God, not insofar as he is an absolutely infinite substance, but insofar as he has an attribute that expresses the infinite and eternal essence of thought (by P23). So in whatever way it is [30] conceived, whether as finite or as infinite, it requires a cause by which it is determined to exist and produce an effect. And so (by D7) it cannot be called a free cause, but only a necessary or compelled one, q.e.d.

[II/73] Cor. 1: From this it follows, first, that God does not produce any effect by freedom of the will.

Cor. 2: It follows, secondly, that will and intellect are related to [5] God’s nature as motion and rest are, and as are absolutely all natural things, which (by P29) must be determined by God to exist and produce an effect in a certain way. For the will, like all other things, requires a cause by which it is determined to exist and produce an effect in a certain way. And although from a given will, or intellect [10] infinitely many things may follow, God still cannot be said, on that account, to act from freedom of the will, any more than he can be said to act from freedom of motion and rest on account of those things that follow from motion and rest (for infinitely many things also follow from motion and rest). So will does not pertain to God’s nature any more than do the other natural things, but is related to him in the [15] same way as motion and rest, and all the other things which, as we have shown, follow from the necessity of the divine nature and are determined by it to exist and produce an effect in a certain way.

P33: Things could have been produced by God in no other way, and in no [20] other order than they have been produced.

Dem.: For all things have necessarily followed from God’s given nature (by P16), and have been determined from the necessity of God’s nature to exist and produce an effect in a certain way (by P29). Therefore, [25] if things could have been of another nature, or could have been determined to produce an effect in another way, so that the order of Nature was different, then God’s nature could also have been other than it is now, and therefore (by P11) that [other nature] would also have had to exist, and consequently, there could have been two or more Gods, which is absurd (by P14C1). So things could have been [30] produced in no other way and no other order, etc., q.e.d.

[II/74] Schol. 1: Since by these propositions I have shown more clearly than the noon light that there is absolutely nothing in things on account of which they can be called contingent, I wish now to explain briefly what we must understand by contingent—but first, what [we [5] must understand] by necessary and impossible.

A thing is called necessary either by reason of its essence or by reason of its cause. For a thing’s existence follows necessarily either from its essence and definition or from a given efficient cause. And a thing is also called impossible from these same causes—viz. either because [10] its essence, or definition, involves a contradiction, or because there is no external cause which has been determined to produce such a thing.

But a thing is called contingent only because of a defect of our knowledge. For if we do not know that the thing’s essence involves a contradiction, or if we do know very well that its essence does not [15] involve a contradiction, and nevertheless can affirm nothing certainly about its existence, because the order of causes is hidden from us, it can never seem to us either necessary or impossible. So we call it contingent or possible.66

[20] Schol. 2: From the preceding it clearly follows that things have been produced by God with the highest perfection, since they have followed necessarily from a given most perfect nature. Nor does this convict God of any imperfection, for his perfection compels us to affirm this. Indeed, from the opposite, it would clearly follow (as I [25] have just shown), that God is not supremely perfect; because if things had been produced by God in another way, we would have to attribute to God another nature, different from that which we have been compelled to attribute to him from the consideration of the most perfect Being.

Of course, I have no doubt that many will reject this opinion as [30] absurd, without even being willing to examine it—for no other reason than because they have been accustomed to attribute another freedom to God, far different from that we have taught (D7), viz. an absolute will. But I also have no doubt that, if they are willing to reflect on the matter, and consider properly the chain of our demonstrations, in the [II/75] end they will utterly reject the freedom they now attribute to God, not only as futile, but as a great obstacle to science. Nor is it necessary for me to repeat here what I said in P17S.

Nevertheless, to please them, I shall show that even if it is conceded [5] that will pertains to God’s essence,67 it still follows from his perfection that things could have been created by God in no other way or order. It will be easy to show this if we consider, first, what they themselves concede, viz. that it depends on God’s decree and will alone that each thing is what it is. For otherwise God would not be the cause of all [10] things. Next, that all God’s decrees have been established by God himself from eternity. For otherwise he would be convicted of imperfection and inconstancy. But since, in eternity, there is neither when, nor before, nor after, it follows, from God’s perfection alone, that he can never decree anything different, and never could have, or that God [15] was not before his decrees, and cannot be without them.

But they will say that even if it were supposed that God had made another nature of things, or that from eternity he had decreed something else concerning nature and its order, no imperfection in God would follow from that.

Still, if they say this, they will concede at the same time that God [20] can change his decrees. For if God had decreed, concerning nature and its order, something other than what he did decree, i.e., had willed and conceived something else concerning nature, he would necessarily have had an intellect other than he now has, and a will other than he now has. And if it is permitted to attribute to God another intellect and another will, without any change of his essence and of [25] his perfection, why can he not now change his decrees concerning created things, and nevertheless remain equally perfect? For his intellect and will concerning created things and their order are the same in respect to his essence and his perfection, however his will and intellect may be conceived.

[30] Further, all the Philosophers I have seen concede that in God there is no potential intellect,68 but only an actual one. But since his intellect and his will are not distinguished from his essence, as they all also concede, it follows that if God had had another actual intellect, and [35] another will, his essence would also necessarily be other. And therefore [II/76] (as I inferred at the beginning) if things had been produced by God otherwise than they now are, God’s intellect and his will, i.e. (as is conceded), his essence, would have to be different [NS: from what it now is]. And this is absurd.

Therefore, since things could have been produced by God in no [5] other way, and no other order, and since it follows from God’s supreme perfection that this is true, no truly sound reason can persuade us to believe that God did not will to create all the things that are in his intellect, with that same perfection with which he understands them.

But they will say that there is no perfection or imperfection in things; [10] what is in them, on account of which they are perfect or imperfect, and are called good or bad,69 depends only on God’s will. And so, if God had willed, he could have brought it about that what is now perfection would have been the greatest imperfection, and conversely [NS: that what is now an imperfection in things would have been the [15] most perfect]. How would this be different from saying openly that God, who necessarily understands what he wills, can bring it about by his will that he understands things in another way than he does understand them? As I have just shown, this is a great absurdity.

So I can turn the argument against them in the following way. All [20] things depend on God’s power. So in order for things to be able to be different, God’s will would necessarily also have to be different. But God’s will cannot be different (as we have just shown most evidently from God’s perfection). So things also cannot be different.

I confess that this opinion,70 which subjects all things to a certain [25] indifferent will of God, and makes all things depend on his good pleasure, is nearer the truth than that of those who maintain that God does all things for the sake of the good. For they seem to place something outside God, which does not depend on God, to which God attends, [30] as a model, in what he does, and at which he aims, as at a certain goal. This is simply to subject God to fate. Nothing more absurd can be maintained about God, whom we have shown to be the first and only free cause, both of the essence of all things, and of their existence. So I shall waste no time in refuting this absurdity.

[35] P34: God’s power is his essence itself.

[II/77] Dem.: For from the necessity alone of God’s essence it follows that God is the cause of himself (by P11) and (by P16 and P16C) of all things. Therefore, God’s power, by which he and all things are and [5] act, is his essence itself, q.e.d.

P35: Whatever we conceive to be in God’s power, necessarily exists.

Dem.: For whatever is in God’s power must (by P34) be so comprehended by his essence that it necessarily follows from it, and therefore [10] necessarily exists, q.e.d.

P36: Nothing exists from whose nature some effect does not follow.

[15] Dem: Whatever exists expresses the nature, or essence of God in a certain and determinate way (by P25C), i.e. (by P34), whatever exists expresses in a certain and determinate way the power of God, which is the cause of all things. So (by P16), from [NS: everything that exists] some effect must follow, q.e.d.

[20] APPENDIX

With these [demonstrations] I have explained God’s nature and properties: that he exists necessarily; that he is unique; that he is and acts from the necessity alone of his nature; that (and how) he is the free cause of all things; that all things are in God and so depend on him [25] that without him they can neither be nor be conceived; and finally, that all things have been predetermined by God, not from freedom of the will or absolute good pleasure, but from God’s absolute nature, or infinite power.

Further, I have taken care, whenever the occasion arose, to remove prejudices that could prevent my demonstrations from being perceived. [30] But because many prejudices remain that could, and can, be a great obstacle to men’s understanding the connection of things in the way I have explained it, I considered it worthwhile to submit them [II/78] here to the scrutiny of reason. All the prejudices I here undertake to expose depend on this one: that men commonly suppose that all natural things act, as men do, on account of an end; indeed, they maintain as certain that God himself directs all things to some certain end, [5] for they say that God has made all things for man, and man that he might worship God.

So I shall begin by considering this one prejudice, asking first [I] why most people are satisfied that it is true, and why all are so inclined by nature to embrace it. Then [II] I shall show its falsity, and [10] finally [III] how, from this, prejudices have arisen concerning good and evil, merit and sin, praise and blame, order and confusion, beauty and ugliness, and other things of this kind.71

[I.] Of course this is not the place to deduce these things from the nature of the human mind. It will be sufficient here if I take as a [15] foundation what everyone must acknowledge: that all men are born ignorant of the causes of things, and that they all want to seek their own advantage, and are conscious of this appetite.

From these [assumptions] it follows, first, that men think themselves free, because they are conscious of their volitions and their appetite, and do not think, even in their dreams, of the causes by which they [20] are disposed to wanting and willing, because they are ignorant of [those causes]. It follows, secondly, that men act always on account of an end, viz. on account of their advantage, which they want. Hence they seek to know only the final causes of what has been done, and when they have heard them, they are satisfied, because they have no reason to [25] doubt further. But if they cannot hear them from another, nothing remains for them but to turn toward themselves, and reflect on the ends by which they are usually determined to do such things; so they necessarily judge the temperament of other men from their own temperament.

Furthermore, they find—both in themselves and outside themselves—many [30] means that are very helpful in seeking their own advantage, e.g., eyes for seeing, teeth for chewing, plants and animals for food, the sun for light, the sea for supporting fish [NS: and so with almost all other things whose natural causes they have no reason to [35] doubt].72 Hence, they consider all natural things as means to their own advantage. And knowing that they had found these means, not provided them for themselves, they had reason to believe that there was someone else who had prepared those means for their use. For after [II/79] they considered things as means, they could not believe that the things had made themselves; but from the means they were accustomed to prepare for themselves, they had to infer that there was a ruler, or a number of rulers of nature, endowed with human freedom, who had taken care of all things for them, and made all things for their use.

[5] And since they had never heard anything about the temperament of these rulers, they had to judge it from their own. Hence, they maintained that the Gods direct all things for the use of men in order to bind men to them and be held by men in the highest honor. So it has happened that each of them has thought up from his own temperament [10] different ways of worshipping God, so that God might love them above all the rest, and direct the whole of Nature according to the needs of their blind desire and insatiable greed. Thus this prejudice was changed into superstition, and struck deep roots in their minds. This was why each of them strove with great diligence to understand [15] and explain the final causes of all things.

But while they sought to show that nature does nothing in vain (i.e., nothing which is not of use to men), they seem to have shown only that nature and the Gods are as mad as men. See, I ask you, how the matter has turned out in the end! Among so many conveniences in [20] nature they had to find many inconveniences: storms, earthquakes, diseases, etc. These, they maintain, happen because the Gods [NS: (whom they judge to be of the same nature as themselves)]73 are angry on account of wrongs done to them by men, or on account of sins committed in their worship. And though their daily experience contradicted this, and though infinitely many examples showed that conveniences [25] and inconveniences happen indiscriminately to the pious and the impious alike, they did not on that account give up their longstanding prejudice. It was easier for them to put this among the other unknown things, whose use they were ignorant of, and so remain in the state of ignorance in which they had been born, than to destroy that whole construction, and think up a new one.

[30] So they maintained it as certain that the judgments of the Gods far surpass man’s grasp. This alone, of course, would have caused the truth to be hidden from the human race to eternity, if Mathematics, which is concerned not with ends, but only with the essences and properties of figures, had not shown men another standard of truth. [35] And besides Mathematics, we can assign other causes also (which it is unnecessary to enumerate here), which were able to bring it about that men [NS:—but very few, in relation to the whole human race—]74 [II/80] would notice these common prejudices and be led to the true knowledge of things.

[II.] With this I have sufficiently explained what I promised in the first place [viz. why men are so inclined to believe that all things act for an end]. Not many words will be required now to show that Nature has no end set before it, and that all final causes are nothing but [5] human fictions. For I believe I have already sufficiently established it, both by the foundations and causes from which I have shown this prejudice to have had its origin, and also by P16, P32C1 and C2, and all those [propositions] by which I have shown that all things proceed by a certain eternal necessity of nature, and with the greatest perfection.

[10] I shall, however, add this: this doctrine concerning the end turns nature completely upside down. For what is really a cause, it considers as an effect, and conversely [NS: what is an effect it considers as a cause]. What is by nature prior, it makes posterior. And finally, what is supreme and most perfect, it makes imperfect.

[15] For—to pass over the first two, since they are manifest through themselves—as has been established in PP21-23, that effect is most perfect which is produced immediately by God, and the more something requires intermediate causes to produce it, the more imperfect it is. But if the things which have been produced immediately by God [20] had been made so that God would achieve his end, then the last things, for the sake of which the first would have been made, would be the most excellent of all.

Again, this doctrine takes away God’s perfection. For if God acts for the sake of an end, he necessarily wants something which he lacks. And though the Theologians and Metaphysicians distinguish between [25] an end of need and an end of assimilation,75 they nevertheless confess that God did all things for his own sake, not for the sake of the things to be created. For before creation they can assign nothing except God for whose sake God would act. And so they are necessarily compelled to confess that God lacked those things for the sake of which he willed to prepare means, and that he desired them. This is clear through itself.

[30] Nor ought we here to pass over the fact that the Followers of this doctrine, who have wanted to show off their cleverness in assigning the ends of things, have introduced—to prove this doctrine of theirs—a new way of arguing: by reducing things, not to the impossible, but to ignorance. This shows that no other way of defending their doctrine was open to them.

[35] For example, if a stone has fallen from a roof onto someone’s head and killed him, they will show, in the following way, that the stone fell in order to kill the man. For if it did not fall to that end, God [II/81] willing it, how could so many circumstances have concurred by chance (for often many circumstances do concur at once)? Perhaps you will answer that it happened because the wind was blowing hard and the man was walking that way. But they will persist: why was the wind [5] blowing hard at that time? why was the man walking that way at that same time? If you answer again that the wind arose then because on the preceding day, while the weather was still calm, the sea began to toss, and that the man had been invited by a friend, they will press on—for there is no end to the questions which can be asked: but why was the sea tossing? why was the man invited at just that time? And [10] so they will not stop asking for the causes of causes until you take refuge in the will of God, i.e., the sanctuary of ignorance.

Similarly, when they see the structure of the human body, they are struck by a foolish wonder, and because they do not know the causes of so great an art, they infer that it is constructed, not by mechanical, but by divine, or supernatural art, and constituted in such a way that [15] one part does not injure another.76

Hence it happens that one who seeks the true causes of miracles, and is eager, like an educated man, to understand natural things, not to wonder at them, like a fool, is generally considered and denounced as an impious heretic by those whom the people honor as interpreters [20] of nature and the Gods. For they know that if ignorance77 is taken away, then foolish wonder, the only means they have of arguing and defending their authority, is also taken away. But I leave these things,78 and pass on to what I have decided to treat here in the third place.

[25] [III.] After men persuaded themselves that everything that happens, happens on their account, they had to judge that what is most important in each thing is what is most useful to them, and to rate as most excellent all those things by which they were most pleased. Hence, they had to form these notions, by which they explained natural things: [30] good, evil, order, confusion, warm, cold, beauty, ugliness. And because they think themselves free, those notions have arisen: praise and blame, sin and merit. The latter I shall explain after I have treated human nature;79 but the former I shall briefly explain here.

Whatever conduces to health and the worship of God, they have [35] called good; but what is contrary to these, evil.

And because those who do not understand the nature of things, but only imagine them, affirm nothing concerning things, and take the [II/82] imagination for the intellect, they firmly believe, in their ignorance of things and of their own nature, that there is an order in things. For when things are so disposed that, when they are presented to us through the senses, we can easily imagine them, and so can easily remember [5] them, we say that they are well-ordered;80 but if the opposite is true, we say that they are badly ordered, or confused.

And since those things we can easily imagine are especially pleasing to us, men prefer order to confusion, as if order were anything in nature more than a relation to our imagination. They also say that [10] God has created all things in order, and so, unknowingly attribute imagination to God—unless, perhaps, they mean that God, to provide for human imagination, has disposed all things so that men can very easily imagine them. Nor will it, perhaps, give them pause that infinitely many things are found which far surpass our imagination, and [15] a great many which confuse it on account of its weakness. But enough of this.

The other notions are also nothing but modes of imagining, by which the imagination is variously affected; and yet the ignorant consider them the chief attributes of things, because, as we have already said, [20] they believe all things have been made for their sake, and call the nature of a thing good or evil, sound or rotten and corrupt, as they are affected by it. For example, if the motion the nerves receive from objects presented through the eyes is conducive to health, the objects by which it is caused are called beautiful; those which cause a contrary [25] motion are called ugly. Those which move the sense through the nose, they call pleasant-smelling or stinking; through the tongue, sweet or bitter, tasty or tasteless; through touch, hard or soft, rough or smooth, etc.; and finally, those which move the ears are said to produce noise, sound or harmony. Men have been so mad as to believe that God is [30] pleased by harmony. Indeed there are Philosophers who have persuaded themselves that the motions of the heavens produce a harmony.

All of these things show sufficiently that each one has judged things according to the disposition of his brain; or rather, has accepted affections of the imagination as things. So it is no wonder (to note this, [35] too, in passing) that we find so many controversies to have arisen among men, and that they have finally given rise to Skepticism. For although human bodies agree in many things, they still differ in very [II/83] many. And for that reason what seems good to one, seems bad to another; what seems ordered to one, seems confused to another; what seems pleasing to one, seems displeasing to another, and so on.

I pass over the [other notions] here, both because this is not the place to treat them at length, and because everyone has experienced [5] this [variability] sufficiently for himself. That is why we have such sayings as “So many heads, so many attitudes,” “everyone finds his own judgment more than enough,” and “there are as many differences of brains as of palates.” These proverbs show sufficiently that men judge things according to the disposition of their brain, and imagine, rather than understand them. For if men had understood them, the things would at least convince them all, even if they did not attract [10] them all, as the example of mathematics shows.

We see, therefore, that all the notions by which ordinary people are accustomed to explain nature are only modes of imagining, and do not indicate the nature of anything, only the constitution of the imagination. And because they have names, as if they were [notions] of beings [15] existing outside the imagination, I call them beings, not of reason, but of imagination. So all the arguments in which people try to use such notions against us can easily be warded off.

For many are accustomed to arguing in this way: if all things have followed from the necessity of God’s most perfect nature, why are [20] there so many imperfections in nature? why are things corrupt to the point where they stink? so ugly that they produce nausea? why is there confusion, evil, and sin?

As I have just said, those who argue in this way are easily answered. For the perfection of things is to be judged solely from their nature and power; things are not more or less perfect because they please or [25] offend men’s senses, or because they are of use to, or are incompatible with, human nature.

But to those who ask “why God did not create all men so that they would be governed by the command of reason?” I answer only “because he did not lack material to create all things, from the highest [30] degree of perfection to the lowest;” or, to speak more properly, “because the laws of his nature have been so ample that they sufficed for producing all things which can be conceived by an infinite intellect” (as I have demonstrated in P16).

These are the prejudices I undertook to note here. If any of this [35] kind still remain, they can be corrected by anyone with only a little meditation. [NS: And so I find no reason to devote more time to these matters, etc.]81

[II/84] Second Part of the Ethics On the Nature and Origin of the Mind

I pass now to explaining those things which must necessarily follow from the essence of God, or the infinite and eternal Being—not, indeed, all of them, for [10] we have demonstrated (IP 16) that infinitely many things must follow from it in infinitely many modes, but only those that can lead us, by the hand, as it were, to the knowledge of the human Mind and its highest blessedness.

DEFINITIONS

D1: By body I understand a mode that in a certain and determinate [15] way expresses God’s essence insofar as he is considered as an extended thing (see IP25C).

D2: I say that to the essence of any thing belongs that which, being given, the thing is [NS: also] necessarily posited and which, being taken away, the thing is necessarily [NS: also] taken away; or that without which the thing can neither be nor be conceived, and which [20] can neither be nor be conceived without the thing.1

D3: By idea I understand a concept of the Mind that the Mind forms because it is a thinking thing.

[25] Exp.: I say concept rather than perception, because the word perception [II/85] seems to indicate that the Mind is acted on by the object. But concept seems to express an action of the Mind.

D4: By adequate idea I understand an idea which, insofar as it is [5] considered in itself, without relation to an object, has all the properties, or intrinsic denominations of a true idea.

Exp.: I say intrinsic to exclude what is extrinsic, viz. the agreement of the idea with its object.

[10] D5: Duration is an indefinite continuation of existing.

Exp.: I say indefinite because it cannot be determined at all through the very nature of the existing thing, nor even by the efficient cause, which necessarily posits the existence of the thing, and does not take it away.

[15] D6: By reality and perfection I understand the same thing.

D7: By singular things I understand things that are finite and have a determinate existence. And if a number of Individuals2 so concur in one action that together they are all the cause of one effect, I consider [20] them all, to that extent, as one singular thing.

AXIOMS

A1: The essence of man does not involve necessary existence, i.e., from the order of nature it can happen equally that this or that man does exist, or that he does not exist.

[25] A2: Man thinks.3

A3: There are no modes of thinking, such as love, desire, or whatever [II/86] is designated by the word affects of the mind, unless there is in the same Individual4 the idea of the thing loved, desired, etc. But there can be an idea, even though there is no other mode of thinking.

[5] A4: We feel that a certain body5 is affected in many ways.

A5: We neither feel nor perceive any singular things [NS: or anything of natura naturata],6 except bodies and modes of thinking. See the postulates after P13.

[10] P1: Thought is an attribute of God, or God is a thinking thing.

Dem.: Singular thoughts, or this or that thought, are modes that express God’s nature in a certain and determinate way (by IP25C). [15] Therefore (by ID5) there belongs to God an attribute whose concept all singular thoughts involve, and through which they are also conceived. Therefore, Thought is one of God’s infinite attributes, which expresses an eternal and infinite essence of God (see ID6), or God is a thinking thing, q.e.d.

[20] Schol.: This Proposition is also evident from the fact that we can conceive an infinite thinking being. For the more things a thinking being can think, the more reality, or perfection, we conceive it to contain. Therefore, a being that can think infinitely many things in [25] infinitely many ways is necessarily infinite in its power of thinking. So since we can conceive an infinite Being by attending to thought alone, Thought (by ID4 and D6) is necessarily one of God’s infinite attributes, as we maintained.

[30] P2: Extension is an attribute of God, or God is an extended thing.

[II/87] Dem: The demonstration of this proceeds in the same way as that of the preceding Proposition.

[5] P3: In God there is necessarily an idea, both of his essence and of everything that necessarily follows from his essence.

Dem.: For God (by P1) can think infinitely many things in infinitely many modes, or (what is the same, by IP16) can form the idea of his [10] essence and of all the things which necessarily follow from it. But whatever is in God’s power necessarily exists (by IP35); therefore, there is necessarily such an idea, and (by IP15) it is only in God, q.e.d.

[15] Schol.: By God’s power ordinary people understand God’s free will and his right over all things which are, things which on that account are commonly considered to be contingent. For they say that God has the power of destroying all things and reducing them to nothing. Further, they very often compare God’s power with the power of Kings.7

[20] But we have refuted this in IP32C1 and C2, and we have shown in IP16 that God acts with the same necessity by which he understands himself, i.e., just as it follows from the necessity of the divine nature (as everyone maintains unanimously) that God understands himself, with the same necessity it also follows that God does infinitely many [25] things in infinitely many modes. And then we have shown in IP34 that God’s power is nothing except God’s active essence. And so it is as impossible for us to conceive that God does not act as it is to conceive that he does not exist.

Again, if it were agreeable to pursue these matters further, I could also show here that that power which ordinary people fictitiously ascribe [30] to God is not only human (which shows that ordinary people conceive God as a man, or as like a man), but also involves lack of power. But I do not wish to speak so often about the same topic. I [II/88] only ask the reader to reflect repeatedly on what is said concerning this matter in Part I, from P16 to the end. For no one will be able to perceive rightly the things I maintain unless he takes great care not to [5] confuse God’s power with the human power or right of Kings.

P4: God’s idea, from which infinitely many things follow in infinitely many modes, must be unique.

[10] Dem.: An infinite intellect comprehends nothing except God’s attributes and his affections (by IP30). But God is unique (by IP14C1). Therefore God’s idea, from which infinitely many things follow in infinitely many modes, must be unique, q.e.d.

[15] P5: The formal being of ideas admits God as a cause only insofar as he is considered as a thinking thing, and not insofar as he is explained by any other attribute. I.e., ideas, both of God’s attributes and of singular things, admit not the objects themselves, or the things perceived, as their efficient cause, but [20] God himself, insofar as he is a thinking thing.

Dem.: This is evident from P3. For there we inferred that God can form the idea of his essence, and of all the things that follow necessarily [25] from it, solely from the fact that God is a thinking thing, and not from the fact that he is the object of his own idea. So the formal being of ideas admits God as its cause insofar8 as he is a thinking thing.

But another way of demonstrating this is the following. The formal being of ideas is a mode of thinking (as is known through itself), i.e. (by IP25C), a mode that expresses, in a certain way, God’s nature [30] insofar as he is a thinking thing. And so (by IP10) it involves the concept of no other attribute of God, and consequently (by IA4) is the effect of no other attribute than thought. And so the formal being [II/89] of ideas admits God as its cause insofar as he is considered only as a thinking thing, etc., q.e.d.

P6: The modes of each attribute have God for their cause only insofar as he is [5] considered under the attribute of which they are modes, and not insofar as he is considered under any other attribute.

Dem.: For each attribute is conceived through itself without any other (by IP10). So the modes of each attribute involve the concept of [10] their own attribute, but not of another one; and so (by IA4) they have God for their cause only insofar as he is considered under the attribute of which they are modes, and not insofar as he is considered under any other, q.e.d.

[15] Cor.: From this it follows that the formal being of things which are not modes of thinking does not follow from the divine nature because [God] has first known the things; rather the objects of ideas follow and are inferred from their attributes9 in the same way and by the same necessity as that with which we have shown ideas to follow from the attribute of Thought.

[20] P7: The order and connection of ideas is the same as the order and connection of things.

Dem.: This is clear from IA4. For the idea of each thing caused [25] depends on the knowledge of the cause of which it is the effect.

Cor.: From this it follows that God’s [NS: actual] power of thinking is equal to his actual power of acting. I.e., whatever follows formally from God’s infinite nature follows objectively in God from his idea in [30] the same order and with the same connection.

[II/90] Schol.: Before we proceed further, we must recall here what we showed [NS: in the First Part], viz. that whatever can be perceived by an infinite intellect as constituting an10 essence of substance pertains [5] to one substance only, and consequently that the thinking substance and the extended substance are one and the same substance, which is now comprehended under this attribute, now under that. So also a mode of extension and the idea of that mode are one and the same thing, but expressed in two ways. Some of the Hebrews11 seem [10] to have seen this, as if through a cloud, when they maintained that God, God’s intellect, and the things understood by him are one and the same.

For example, a circle existing in nature and the idea of the existing circle, which is also in God, are one and the same thing, which is explained through different attributes. Therefore, whether we conceive [15] nature under the attribute of Extension, or under the attribute of Thought, or under any other attribute, we shall find one and the same order, or one and the same connection of causes, i.e., that the same things follow one another.12

When I said [NS: before] that God is the cause of the idea, say of a circle, only insofar as he is a thinking thing, and [the cause] of the [20] circle, only insofar as he is an extended thing, this was for no other reason than because the formal being of the idea of the circle can be perceived only through another mode of thinking, as its proximate cause, and that mode again through another, and so on, to infinity. Hence, so long as things are considered as modes of thinking, we must explain the order of the whole of nature, or the connection of causes, [25] through the attribute of Thought alone. And insofar as they are considered as modes of Extension, the order of the whole of nature must be explained through the attribute of Extension alone. I understand the same concerning the other attributes.

So of things as they are in themselves, God is really the cause insofar as he consists of infinite attributes. For the present, I cannot [30] explain these matters more clearly.13

P8: The ideas of singular things, or of modes, that do not exist must be comprehended in God’s infinite idea in the same way as the formal essences of the [35] singular things, or modes, are contained in God’s attributes.

[II/91] Dem.: This Proposition is evident from the preceding one, but is understood more clearly from the preceding scholium.

[5] Cor.: From this it follows that so long as singular things do not exist, except insofar as they are comprehended in God’s attributes, their objective being, or ideas, do not exist except insofar as God’s infinite idea exists. And when singular things are said to exist, not only insofar as they are comprehended in God’s attributes, but insofar [10] also as they are said to have duration, their ideas also involve the existence through which they are said to have duration.

Schol.: If anyone wishes me to explain this further by an example, I will, of course, not be able to give one which adequately explains what I speak of here, since it [15] is unique. Still I shall try as far as possible to illustrate the matter:14 the circle is of such a nature that the rectangles formed from the segments of all the straight lines intersecting in it are equal to one another.15 So in a circle there are contained infinitely many rectangles that are equal to one another. Nevertheless, [20] none of them can be said to exist except insofar as the circle exists, nor also can the idea of any of these rectangles be said to exist except insofar as it is comprehended in the idea of the circle. Now of these infinitely many [rectangles] let two only, viz. [those formed from the segments of lines]16 D and E, exist. Of course their ideas also exist [25] now, not only insofar as they are only comprehended in the idea of the circle, but also insofar as they involve the existence of those rectangles. By this they are distinguished from the other ideas of the other rectangles.

[30] P9: The idea of a singular thing which actually exists has God for a cause not [II/92] insofar as he is infinite,17 but insofar as he is considered to be affected by another idea of a singular thing which actually exists; and of this [idea] God is also the cause, insofar as he is affected by another third [NS: idea], and so on, to infinity.

Dem.: The idea of a singular thing which actually exists is a singular [5] mode of thinking, and distinct from the others (by P8C and S), and so (by P6) has God for a cause only insofar as he is a thinking thing. But not (by IP28) insofar as he is a thing thinking absolutely;18 rather insofar as he is considered to be affected by another [NS: determinate] mode of thinking.19 And God is also the cause of this mode, insofar [10] as he is affected by another [NS: determinate mode of thinking], and so on, to infinity. But the order and connection of ideas (by P7) is the same as the order and connection of causes.20 Therefore, the cause of one singular idea is another idea, or God, insofar as he is considered to be affected by another idea; and of this also [God is the cause], insofar as he is affected by another, and so on, to infinity, q.e.d.

[15] Cor.: Whatever happens in the singular object of any idea, there is knowledge of it in God, only insofar as he has the idea of the same object.

[20] Dem.: Whatever happens in the object of any idea, there is an idea of it in God (by P3), not insofar as he is infinite, but insofar as he is considered to be affected by another idea of [NS: an existing] singular thing (by P9); but the order and connection of ideas (by P7) is the same as the order and connection of things; therefore, knowledge of [25] what happens in a singular object will be in God only insofar as he has the idea of the same object, q.e.d.

P10: The being of substance does not pertain to the essence of man,21 or substance does not constitute the form of man.

[30] Dem.: For the being of substance involves necessary existence (by IP7). Therefore, if the being of substance pertained to the essence of man, then substance being given, man would necessarily be given (by [II/93] D2), and consequently man would exist necessarily, which (by A1) is absurd, q.e.d.

Schol.: This proposition is also demonstrated from IP5, viz. that [5] there are not two substances of the same nature. Since a number of men can exist,22 what constitutes the form of man is not the being of substance. Further, this proposition is evident from the other properties of substance, viz. that substance is, by its nature, infinite, immutable, [10] indivisible, etc., as anyone can easily see.

Cor.: From this it follows that the essence of man is constituted by certain modifications of God’s attributes.

[15] Dem.: For the being of substance does not pertain to the essence of man (by P10). Therefore, it is something (by IP15) which is in God, and which can neither be nor be conceived without God, or (by IP25C) an affection, or mode, which expresses God’s nature in a certain and determinate way.

[20] Schol.: Everyone, of course, must concede that nothing can either be or be conceived without God. For all confess that God is the only cause of all things, both of their essence and of their existence.23 I.e., God is not only the cause of the coming to be of things, as they say, but also of their being.

[25] But in the meantime many say that anything without which a thing can neither be nor be conceived pertains to the nature of the thing.24 And so they believe either that the nature of God pertains to the essence of created things, or that created things can be or be conceived without God—or what is more certain, they are not sufficiently consistent.

[30] The cause of this, I believe, was that they did not observe the [proper] order of Philosophizing.25 For they believed that the divine nature, which they should have contemplated before all else (because it is prior both in knowledge and in nature) is last in the order of knowledge, and that the things that are called objects of the senses are prior [35] to all. That is why, when they contemplated natural things, they thought of nothing less than they did of the divine nature; and when afterwards [II/94] they directed their minds to contemplating the divine nature, they could think of nothing less than of their first fictions, on which they had built the knowledge of natural things, because these could not assist knowledge of the divine nature. So it is no wonder that they have generally contradicted themselves.

[5] But I pass over this. For my intent here was only to give a reason26 why I did not say that anything without which a thing can neither be nor be conceived pertains to its nature—viz. because singular things can neither be nor be conceived without God, and nevertheless, God [10] does not pertain to their essence. But I have said that what necessarily constitutes the essence of a thing is that which, if it is given, the thing is posited, and if it is taken away, the thing is taken away, i.e., the essence is what the thing can neither be nor be conceived without, and vice versa, what can neither be nor be conceived without the thing.

P11: The first thing that constitutes the actual being of a human Mind is [15] nothing but the idea of a singular thing which actually exists.

Dem.: The essence of man (by P10C) is constituted by certain modes of God’s attributes, viz. (by A2) by modes of thinking, of all of which (by A3) the idea is prior in nature, and when it is given, the other [20] modes (to which the idea is prior in nature) must be in the same individual (by A3).27 And therefore an idea is the first thing that constitutes the being of a human Mind. But not the idea of a thing which does not exist. For then (by P8C) the idea itself could not be said to exist. Therefore, it will be the idea of a thing which actually exists. [25] But not of an infinite thing. For an infinite thing (by IP21 and 22) must always exist necessarily. But (by A1) it is absurd [that this idea should be of a necessarily existing object]. Therefore, the first thing that constitutes the actual being of a human Mind is the idea of a singular thing which actually exists, q.e.d.

[30] Cor.: From this it follows that the human Mind is a part of the infinite intellect of God. Therefore, when we say that the human Mind perceives this or that, we are saying nothing but that God, not insofar as he is infinite, but insofar as he is explained through the nature of [II/95] the human Mind, or insofar as he constitutes the essence of the human Mind, has this or that idea; and when we say that God has this or that idea, not only insofar as he constitutes the nature of the human Mind, but insofar as he also has the idea of another thing together with the human Mind, then we say that the human Mind perceives [5] the thing only partially, or inadequately.

Schol.: Here, no doubt, my readers will come to a halt, and think of many things which will give them pause. For this reason I ask them [10] to continue on with me slowly, step by step, and to make no judgment on these matters until they have read through them all.

P12: Whatever happens in the object of the idea constituting the human Mind must be perceived by the human Mind, or there will necessarily be an idea of [15] that thing in the Mind; i.e., if the object of the idea constituting a human Mind is a body, nothing can happen in that body which is not perceived by the Mind.28

[20] Dem.: For whatever happens in the object of any idea, the knowledge of that thing is necessarily in God (by P9C), insofar as he is considered to be affected by the idea of the same object, i.e. (by P11), insofar as he constitutes the mind of some thing. Therefore, whatever happens in the object of the idea constituting the human Mind, the [25] knowledge of it is necessarily in God insofar as he constitutes the nature of the human Mind, i.e. (by P11C), knowledge of this thing will necessarily be in the Mind, or the Mind will perceive it, q.e.d.

[35] Schol.: This Proposition is also evident, and more clearly understood from P7S, which you should consult.

[II/96] P13: The object of the idea constituting the human Mind is the Body,29 or a certain mode of Extension which actually exists, and nothing else.

[5] Dem.: For if the object of the human Mind were not the Body, the ideas of the affections of the Body would not be in God (by P9C) insofar as he constituted our Mind, but insofar as he constituted the mind of another thing, i.e. (by P11C), the ideas of the affections of the Body would not be in our Mind; but (by A4) we have ideas of the [10] affections of the body. Therefore, the object of the idea that constitutes the human Mind is the Body, and it (by P11) actually exists.

Next, if the object of the Mind were something else also, in addition to the Body, then since (by IP36) nothing exists from which there does not follow some effect, there would necessarily (by P12) be an [15] idea in our Mind of some effect of it. But (by A5) there is no idea of it. Therefore, the object of our Mind is the existing Body and nothing else, q.e.d.

Cor.: From this it follows that man consists of a Mind and a Body, [20] and that the human Body exists, as we are aware of it.30

Schol.: From these [propositions] we understand not only that the human Mind is united to the Body, but also what should be understood by the union of Mind and Body. But no one will be able to [25] understand it adequately, or distinctly, unless he first knows adequately the nature of our Body. For the things we have shown so far are completely general and do not pertain more to man than to other Individuals, all of which, though in different degrees, are nevertheless animate.31 For of each thing there is necessarily an idea in God, of [30] which God is the cause in the same way as he is of the idea of the human Body. And so, whatever we have said of the idea of the human Body must also be said of the idea of any thing.

[II/97] However, we also cannot deny that ideas differ among themselves, as the objects themselves do, and that one is more excellent than the other, and contains more reality, just as the object of the one is more excellent than the object of the other and contains more reality. And so to determine what is the difference between the human Mind and [5] the others, and how it surpasses them, it is necessary for us, as we have said, to know the nature of its object, i.e., of the human Body. I cannot explain this here, nor is that necessary for the things I wish to demonstrate. Nevertheless, I say this in general, that in proportion as a Body is more capable than others of doing many things at once, or being acted on in many ways at once, so its Mind is more capable [10] than others of perceiving many things at once. And in proportion as the actions of a body depend more on itself alone, and as other bodies concur with it less in acting, so its mind is more capable of understanding distinctly. And from these [truths] we can know the excellence of one mind over the others, and also see the cause why we have [15] only a completely confused knowledge of our Body, and many other things which I shall deduce from them in the following [propositions]. For this reason I have thought it worthwhile to explain and demonstrate these things more accurately. To do this it is necessary to premise a few things concerning the nature of bodies.

[20] A1′:32 All bodies either move or are at rest.

A2′: Each body moves now more slowly, now more quickly.

[25] L1: Bodies are distinguished from one another by reason of motion and rest, speed and slowness, and not by reason of substance.

Dem.: I suppose that the first part of this is known through itself. But that bodies are not distinguished by reason of substance is evident [30] both from IP5 and from IP8. But it is more clearly evident from those things which are said in IP15S.

[II/98] L2: All bodies agree in certain things.

Dem.: For all bodies agree in that they involve the concept of one [5] and the same attribute (by D1), and in that they can move now more slowly, now more quickly, and absolutely, that now they move, now they are at rest.

L3: A body which moves or is at rest must be determined to motion or rest by [10] another body, which has also been determined to motion or rest by another, and that again by another, and so on, to infinity.

Dem.: Bodies (by D1) are singular things which (by LI) are distinguished [15] from one another by reason of motion and rest; and so (by IP28), each must be determined necessarily to motion or rest by another singular thing, viz. (by P6) by another body, which (by A1′) either moves or is at rest. But this body also (by the same reasoning) [20] could not move or be at rest if it had not been determined by another to motion or rest, and this again (by the same reasoning) by another, and so on, to infinity, q.e.d.

Cor.: From this it follows that a body in motion moves until it is [25] determined by another body to rest; and that a body at rest also remains at rest until it is determined to motion by another.

This is also known through itself. For when I suppose that body A, say, is at rest, and do not attend to any other body in motion, I can say nothing about body A except that it is at rest. If afterwards it [30] happens that body A moves, that of course could not have come about from the fact that it was at rest. For from that nothing else could follow but that body A would be at rest.33

[II/99] If, on the other hand, A is supposed to move, then as often as we attend only to A, we shall be able to affirm nothing concerning it except that it moves. If afterwards it happens that A is at rest, that of course also could not have come about from the motion it had. For from the motion nothing else could follow but that A would move. [5] Therefore, it happens by a thing which was not in A, viz. by an external cause, by which [NS: the Body in motion, A] has been determined to rest.

A1″:34 All modes by which a body is affected by another body follow [10] both from the nature of the body affected and at the same time from the nature of the affecting body, so that one and the same body may be moved differently according to differences in the nature of the bodies moving it. And conversely, different bodies may be moved differently by one and the same body.

[15] A2″: When a body in motion strikes against another which is at rest and cannot give way, then it is reflected, so that it continues to move, and the angle of the line of the reflected motion with the surface of the body at rest [20] which it struck against will be equal to the angle which the line of the incident motion makes with the same surface.35

This will be sufficient concerning the simplest bodies, which are distinguished from one another only by motion and rest, speed and [25] slowness. Now let us move up to composite bodies.

Definition: When a number of bodies, whether of the same or of different size, are so constrained by other bodies that they lie upon one another, or if they so [II/100] move, whether with the same degree or different degrees of speed, that they communicate their motions to each other in a certain fixed manner, we shall say that those bodies are united with one another and that they all together compose one body or Individual, which is distinguished from the others by this [5] union of bodies.

A3″: As the parts of an Individual, or composite body, lie upon one another over a larger or smaller surface, so they can be forced to change [10] their position with more or less difficulty; and consequently the more or less will be the difficulty of bringing it about that the Individual changes its shape. And therefore the bodies whose parts lie upon one another over a large surface, I shall call hard; those whose parts lie upon one another over a small surface, I shall call soft; and finally those [15] whose parts are in motion, I shall call fluid.

L4: If, of a body, or of an Individual, which is composed of a number of bodies, some are removed, and at the same time as many others of the same nature take their place, the [NS: body, or the] Individual will retain its [20] nature, as before, without any change of its form.

Dem.: For (by LI) bodies are not distinguished in respect to substance; what constitutes the form of the Individual consists [NS: only] in the union of the bodies (by the preceding definition). But this [NS: [25] union] (by hypothesis) is retained even if a continual change of bodies occurs. Therefore, the Individual will retain its nature, as before, both in respect to substance, and in respect to mode, q.e.d.

[30] L5: If the parts composing an Individual become greater or less, but in such a [II/101] proportion that they all keep the same ratio of motion and rest to each other as before, then the Individual will likewise retain its nature, as before, without any change of form.

[5] Dem.: The demonstration of this is the same as that of the preceding Lemma.

L6: If certain bodies composing an Individual are compelled to alter the [10] motion they have from one direction to another, but so that they can continue their motions and communicate them to each other in the same ratio as before, the Individual will likewise retain its nature, without any change of form.

Dem.: This is evident through itself. For it is supposed that it retains [15] everything which, in its definition, we said constitutes its form. [NS: See the Definition before L4.]36

L7: Furthermore, the Individual so composed retains its nature, whether it, [20] as a whole, moves or is at rest, or whether it moves in this or that direction, so long as each part retains its motion, and communicates it, as before, to the others.

Dem.: This [NS: also] is evident from the definition preceding L4.

[25] Schol.: By this, then, we see how a composite Individual can be affected in many ways, and still preserve its nature. So far we have conceived an Individual which is composed only of bodies which are distinguished from one another only by motion and rest, speed and [30] slowness, i.e., which is composed of the simplest bodies.37 But if we [II/102] should now conceive of another, composed of a number of Individuals of a different nature, we shall find that it can be affected in a great many other ways, and still preserve its nature. For since each part of [5] it is composed of a number of bodies, each part will therefore (by L7) be able, without any change of its nature, to move now more slowly, now more quickly, and consequently communicate its motion more quickly or more slowly to the others.

But if we should further conceive a third kind of Individual, composed [10] [NS: of many individuals] of this second kind, we shall find that it can be affected in many other ways, without any change of its form. And if we proceed in this way to infinity, we shall easily conceive that the whole of nature is one Individual, whose parts, i.e., all bodies, vary in infinite ways, without any change of the whole Individual.38

If it had been my intention to deal expressly with body,39 I ought [15] to have explained and demonstrated these things more fully. But I have already said that I intended something else, and brought these things forward only because I can easily deduce from them the things I have decided to demonstrate.

POSTULATES

[20] I. The human Body is composed of a great many individuals of different natures, each of which is highly composite.

II. Some of the individuals of which the human Body is composed [25] are fluid, some soft, and others, finally are hard.

III. The individuals composing the human Body, and consequently, the human Body itself, are affected by external bodies in very many ways.

IV. The human Body, to be preserved, requires a great many other [30] bodies, by which it is, as it were, continually regenerated.

V. When a fluid part of the human Body is determined by an external [II/103] body so that it frequently thrusts against a soft part [of the Body], it changes its surface and, as it were, impresses on [the soft part] certain traces of the external body striking against [the fluid part].

VI. The human Body can move and dispose external bodies in a [5] great many ways.

P14: The human Mind is capable of perceiving a great many things, and is the more capable, the more its body can be disposed in a great many ways.

[10] Dem.: For the human Body (by Post. 3 and 6) is affected in a great many ways by external bodies, and is disposed to affect external bodies in a great many ways. But the human Mind must perceive everything which happens in the human body (by P12). Therefore, the human Mind is capable of perceiving a great many things, and is the [15] more capable [, NS: as the human Body is more capable],40 q.e.d.

P15: The idea that constitutes the formal being [esse] of the human Mind is not simple, but composed of a great many ideas.

[20] Dem.: The idea that constitutes the formal being of the human Mind is the idea of a body (by P13), which (by Post. 1) is composed of a great many highly composite Individuals. But of each Individual composing the body, there is necessarily (by P8C)41 an idea in God. [25] Therefore (by P7), the idea of the human Body is composed of these many ideas of the parts composing the Body, q.e.d.

P16: The idea of any mode in which the human Body is affected by external bodies must involve the nature of the human Body and at the same time the [30] nature of the external body.

[II/104] Dem.: For all the modes in which a body is affected follow from the nature of the affected body, and at the same time from the nature [5] of the affecting body (by A1″ [II/99]). So the idea of them (by IA4) will necessarily involve the nature of each body. And so the idea of each mode in which the human Body is affected by an external body involves the nature of the human Body and of the external body, q.e.d.

[10] Cor. 1: From this it follows, first, that the human Mind perceives the nature of a great many bodies together with the nature of its own body.

Cor. 2: It follows, second, that the ideas which we have of external [15] bodies indicate the condition of our own body more than42 the nature of the external bodies. I have explained this by many examples in the Appendix of Part I.

P17: If the human Body is affected with a mode that involves the nature of [20] an external body, the human Mind will regard the same external body as actually existing, or as present to it, until the Body is affected by an affect43 that excludes the existence or presence of that body.

Dem.: This is evident. For so long as the human Body is so affected, [25] the human Mind (by P12) will regard this affection of the body, i.e. (by P16), it will have the idea of a mode that actually exists, an idea that involves the nature of the external body, i.e., an idea that does not exclude, but posits, the existence or presence of the nature of the external body. And so the Mind (by P16C1) will regard the [30] external body as actually existing, or as present, until it is affected, etc., q.e.d.

[II/105] Cor.: Although the external bodies by which the human body has once been affected neither exist nor are present, the mind will still be able to regard them as if they were present.

[5] Dem.: While external bodies so determine the fluid parts of the human body that they often thrust against the softer parts, they change (by Post. 5) their surfaces with the result (see A2” after L3) that they are reflected from it in another way than they used to be before, and [10] still later, when the fluid parts, by their spontaneous motion, encounter those new surfaces, they are reflected in the same way as when they were driven against those surfaces by the external bodies. Consequently, while, thus reflected, they continue to move, they will affect the human Body with the same mode, concerning which the Mind [15] (by P12) will think again, i.e. (by P17), the Mind will again regard the external body as present; this will happen as often as the fluid parts of the human body encounter the same surfaces by their spontaneous motion. So although the external bodies by which the human Body has once been affected do not exist, the Mind will still regard [20] them as present, as often as this action of the body is repeated, q.e.d.

Schol.: We see, therefore, how it can happen (as it often does) that we regard as present things that do not exist. This can happen from other causes also, but it is sufficient for me here to have shown one [25] through which I can explain it as if I had shown it through its true cause; still, I do not believe that I wander far from the true [cause] since all those postulates which I have assumed contain hardly anything that is not established by experience which we cannot doubt, after we have shown that the human Body exists as we are aware of it (see P13C).

[30] Furthermore (from P17C and P16C2), we clearly understand what is the difference between the idea of, say, Peter, which constitutes the essence of Peter’s mind, and the idea of Peter which is in another man, say in Paul. For the former directly explains the essence of Peter’s body, and does not involve existence, except so long as Peter exists; [II/106] but the latter indicates the condition of Paul’s body more than Peter’s nature [NS: see P16C2],44 and therefore, while that condition of Paul’s [5] body lasts, Paul’s Mind will still regard Peter as present to itself, even though Peter does not exist.

Next, to retain the customary words, the affections of the human Body whose ideas present external bodies as present to us, we shall call images of things, even if they do not reproduce the [NS: external] figures of things. And when the Mind regards bodies in this way, we [10] shall say that it imagines.

And here, in order to begin to indicate what error is, I should like you to note that the imaginations of the Mind, considered in themselves contain no error, or that the Mind does not err from the fact that it imagines, but only insofar as it is considered to lack an idea that excludes the existence of those things that it imagines to be present [15] to it. For if the Mind, while it imagined nonexistent things as present to it, at the same time knew that those things did not exist, it would, of course, attribute this power of imagining to a virtue of its nature, not to a vice—especially if this faculty of imagining depended only on its own nature, i.e. (by ID7), if the Mind’s faculty of imagining [20] were free.

P18: If the human Body has once been affected by two or more bodies at the same time, then when the Mind subsequently imagines one of them, it will immediately recollect the others also.

[25] Dem.: The Mind (by P17C) imagines a body because the human Body is affected and disposed as it was affected when certain of its parts were struck by the external body itself. But (by hypothesis) the [30] Body was then so disposed that the Mind imagined two [or more] bodies at once; therefore it will now also imagine two [or more] at once, and when the Mind imagines one, it will immediately recollect the other also, q.e.d.

[35] Schol.: From this we clearly understand what Memory is. For it is [II/107] nothing other than a certain connection of ideas involving the nature of things which are outside the human Body—a connection that is in the Mind according to the order and connection of the affections of the human Body.

I say, first, that the connection is only of those ideas that involve [5] the nature of things which are outside the human Body, but not of the ideas that explain the nature of the same things. For they are really (by P16) ideas of affections of the human Body which involve both its nature and that of external bodies.

I say, second, that this connection happens according to the order [10] and connection of the affections of the human Body in order to distinguish it from the connection of ideas which happens according to the order of the intellect, by which the Mind perceives things through their first causes, and which is the same in all men.

And from this we clearly understand why the Mind, from the thought [15] of one thing, immediately passes to the thought of another, which has no likeness to the first: as, for example, from the thought of the word pomum a Roman will immediately pass to the thought of the fruit [viz. an apple], which has no similarity to that articulate sound and nothing in common with it except that the Body of the same man has often [20] been affected by these two [NS: at the same time], i.e., that the man often heard the word pomum while he saw the fruit.

And in this way each of us will pass from one thought to another, as each one’s association has ordered the images of things in the body. For example, a soldier, having seen traces of a horse in the sand, will immediately pass from the thought of a horse to the thought of a [25] horseman, and from that to the thought of war, etc. But a Farmer will pass from the thought of a horse to the thought of a plow, and then to that of a field, etc. And so each one, according as he has been accustomed to join and connect the images of things in this or that way, will pass from one thought to another.

[30] P19: The human Mind does not know the human Body itself, nor does it know that it exists, except through ideas of affections by which the Body is affected.

[II/108] Dem.: For the human Mind is the idea itself, or knowledge of the human Body (by P13), which (by P9) is indeed in God insofar as he is considered to be affected by another idea of a singular thing, or45 [5] because (by Post. 4) the human Body requires a great many bodies by which it is, as it were, continually regenerated; and [NS: because] the order and connection of ideas is (by P7) the same as the order and connection of causes,46 this idea will be in God insofar as he is considered to be affected by the ideas of a great many singular things. Therefore, [10] God has the idea of the human Body, or knows the human Body, insofar as he is affected by a great many other ideas, and not insofar as he constitutes the nature of the human Mind, i.e. (by P11C), the human Mind does not know the human Body.47

But the ideas of affections of the Body are in God insofar as he constitutes the nature of the human Mind, or the human Mind perceives [15] the same affections (by P12), and consequently (by P16) the human Body itself, as actually existing (by P17).

Therefore to that extent only, the human Mind perceives the human Body itself, q.e.d.

[20] P20: There is also in God an idea, or knowledge, of the human Mind, which follows in God in the same way and is related to God in the same way as the idea, or knowledge, of the human Body.

Dem.: Thought is an attribute of God (by P1), and so (by P3) there [25] must necessarily be in God an idea both of [NS: thought] and of all of its affections, and consequently (by P11),48 of the human Mind also. Next, this idea, or knowledge, of the Mind does not follow in God insofar as he is infinite, but insofar as he is affected by another idea of a singular thing (by P9). But the order and connection of ideas is [30] the same as the order and connection of causes49 (by P7). Therefore, this idea, or knowledge, of the Mind follows in God and is related to God in the same way as the idea, or knowledge, of the Body, q.e.d.

[II/109] P21: This idea of the Mind is united to the Mind in the same way as the Mind is united to the Body.

[5] Dem.: We have shown that the Mind is united to the Body from the fact that the Body is the object of the Mind (see P12 and 13); and so by the same reasoning the idea of the Mind must be united with its own object, i.e., with the Mind itself, in the same way as the Mind is united with the Body, q.e.d.

[10] Schol.: This proposition is understood far more clearly from what is said in P7S; for there we have shown that the idea of the Body and the Body, i.e. (by P13), the Mind and the Body, are one and the same Individual, which is conceived now under the attribute of Thought, [15] now under the attribute of Extension. So the idea of the Mind and the Mind itself are one and the same thing, which is conceived under one and the same attribute, viz. Thought. The idea of the Mind, I say, and the Mind itself follow in God from the same power of thinking and by the same necessity. For the idea of the Mind, i.e., the idea [20] of the idea, is nothing but the form of the idea insofar as this is considered as a mode of thinking without relation to the object. For as soon as someone knows something, he thereby knows that he knows it, and at the same time knows that he knows that he knows, and so on, to infinity. But more on these matters later.

[25] P22: The human Mind perceives not only the affections of the Body, but also the ideas of these affections.

Dem.: The ideas of the ideas of the affections follow in God in the same way and are related to God in the same way as the ideas themselves [30] of the affections (this is demonstrated in the same way as P20). But the ideas of the affections of the Body are in the human Mind (by [II/110] P12), i.e. (by P11C), in God, insofar as he constitutes the essence of the human Mind. Therefore, the ideas of these ideas will be in God insofar as he has the knowledge, or idea, of the human Mind, i.e. (by P21), they will be in the human Mind itself, which for that reason [5] perceives not only the affections of the Body, but also their ideas, q.e.d.

P23: The Mind does not know itself, except insofar as it perceives the ideas of the affections of the Body.

[10] Dem.: The idea, or knowledge, of the Mind (by P20) follows in God in the same way, and is related to God in the same way as the idea, or knowledge, of the body. But since (by P19) the human Mind [15] does not know the human Body itself, i.e. (by P11C), since the knowledge of the human Body is not related to God insofar as he constitutes the nature of the human Mind, the knowledge of the Mind is also not related to God insofar as he constitutes the essence of the human Mind. And so (again by P11C) to that extent the human Mind does not know itself.

[20] Next, the ideas of the affections by which the Body is affected involve the nature of the human Body itself (by P16), i.e. (by P13), agree with the nature of the Mind. So knowledge of these ideas will necessarily involve knowledge of the Mind. But (by P22) knowledge of these ideas is in the human Mind itself. Therefore, the human [25] Mind, to that extent only, knows itself, q.e.d.

P24: The human Mind does not involve adequate knowledge of the parts composing the human Body.

[30] Dem.: The parts composing the human Body pertain to the essence of the Body itself only insofar as they communicate their motions to one another in a certain fixed manner (see the Definition after L3C), [II/111] and not insofar as they can be considered as Individuals, without relation to the human Body. For (by Post. 1) the parts of the human Body are highly composite Individuals, whose parts (by L4) can be [5] separated from the human Body and communicate their motions (see A1″ after L3) to other bodies in another manner, while the human Body completely preserves its nature and form. And so the idea, or knowledge, of each part will be in God (by P3), insofar as he is considered to be affected by another idea of a singular thing (by P9), a singular thing which is prior, in the order of nature, to the part itself [10] (by P7). The same must also be said of each part of the Individual composing the human Body. And so, the knowledge of each part composing the human Body is in God insofar as he is affected with a great many ideas of things, and not insofar as he has only the idea of the [15] human Body, i.e. (by P13), the idea that constitutes the nature of the human Mind. And so, by (P11C) the human Mind does not involve adequate knowledge of the parts composing the human Body, q.e.d.

[20] P25: The idea of any affection of the human Body does not involve adequate knowledge of an external body.

Dem.: We have shown (P16) that the idea of an affection of the human Body involves the nature of an external body insofar as the [25] external body determines the human Body in a certain fixed way. But insofar as the external body is an Individual that is not related to the human Body, the idea, or knowledge, of it is in God (by P9) insofar as God is considered to be affected with the idea of another thing which (by P7) is prior in nature to the external body itself. So adequate [30] knowledge of the external body is not in God insofar as he has the idea of an affection of the human Body, or the idea of an affection of the human Body does not involve adequate knowledge of the external body, q.e.d.

[II/112] P26: The human Mind does not perceive any external body as actually existing, except through the ideas of the affections of its own Body.

[5] Dem.: If the human Body is not affected by an external body in any way, then (by P7) the idea of the human Body, i.e. (by P13) the human Mind, is also not affected in any way by the idea of the existence of that body, or it does not perceive the existence of that external [10] body in any way. But insofar as the human Body is affected by an external body in some way, to that extent [the human Mind] (by P16 and P16C1) perceives the external body, q.e.d.

Cor.: Insofar as the human Mind imagines an external body, it does [15] not have adequate knowledge of it.

Dem.: When the human Mind regards external bodies through ideas of the affections of its own Body, then we say that it imagines (see [20] P17S); and the Mind cannot in any other way (by P26) imagine external bodies as actually existing. And so (by P25), insofar as the Mind imagines external bodies, it does not have adequate knowledge of them, q.e.d.

P27: The idea of any affection of the human Body does not involve adequate [25] knowledge of the human body itself.

Dem.: Any idea of any affection of the human Body involves the nature of the human Body insofar as the human Body itself is considered to be affected with a certain definite mode (see P16). But insofar [30] as the human Body is an Individual, which can be affected with many [II/113] other modes, the idea of this [affection] etc. (See P25D.)

P28: The ideas of the affections of the human Body, insofar as they are related [5] only to the human Mind, are not clear and distinct, but confused.

Dem.: For the ideas of the affections of the human Body involve the nature of external bodies as much as that of the human Body (by [10] P16), and must involve the nature not only of the human Body [NS: as a whole], but also of its parts; for the affections are modes (by Post. 3) with which the parts of the human Body, and consequently the whole Body, are affected. But (by P24 and P25) adequate knowledge of external bodies and of the parts composing the human Body is in [15] God, not insofar as he is considered to be affected with the human Mind, but insofar as he is considered to be affected with other ideas.50 Therefore, these ideas of the affections, insofar as they are related only [20] to the human Mind, are like conclusions without premises, i.e. (as is known through itself), they are confused ideas, q.e.d.

Schol.: In the same way we can demonstrate that the idea that constitutes the nature of the human Mind is not, considered in itself alone, [25] clear and distinct; we can also demonstrate the same of the idea of the human Mind and the ideas of the ideas of the human Body’s affections [viz. that are confused],51 insofar as they are referred to the Mind alone. Anyone can easily see this.

P29: The idea of the idea of any affection of the human Body does not involve [30] adequate knowledge of the human Mind.

Dem.: For the idea of an affection of the human Body (by P27) does not involve adequate knowledge of the Body itself, or does not express [II/114] its nature adequately, i.e. (by P13), does not agree adequately with the nature of the Mind; and so (by IA6) the idea of this idea does not express the nature of the human mind adequately, or does not involve adequate knowledge of it, q.e.d.

[5] Cor.: From this it follows that so long as the human Mind perceives things from the common order of nature, it does not have an adequate, but only a confused and mutilated knowledge of itself, of its own Body, and of external bodies. For the Mind does not know itself except [10] insofar as it perceives ideas of the affections of the body (by P23). But it does not perceive its own Body (by P19) except through the very ideas themselves of the affections [of the body], and it is also through them alone that it perceives external bodies (by P26). And so, insofar as it has these [ideas], then neither of itself (by P29), nor of its [15] own Body (by P27), nor of external bodies (by P25) does it have an adequate knowledge, but only (by P28 and P28S) a mutilated and confused knowledge, q.e.d.

Schol.: I say expressly that the Mind has, not an adequate, but only [20] a confused [NS: and mutilated] knowledge, of itself, of its own Body, and of external bodies, so long as it perceives things from the common order of nature, i.e., so long as it is determined externally, from fortuitous encounters with things, to regard this or that, and not so long as it is determined internally, from the fact that it regards a number [25] of things at once, to understand their agreements, differences, and oppositions. For so often as it is disposed internally, in this or another way, then it regards things clearly and distinctly, as I shall show below.

P30: We can have only an entirely inadequate knowledge of the duration of [30] our Body.

Dem.: Our body’s duration depends neither on its essence (by A1), [II/115] nor even on God’s absolute nature (by IP21). But (by IP28) it is determined to exist and produce an effect from such [NS: other] causes as are also determined by others to exist and produce an effect in a [5] certain and determinate manner, and these again by others, and so to infinity. Therefore, the duration of our Body depends on the common order of nature and the constitution of things. But adequate knowledge of how things are constituted is in God, insofar as he has the ideas of all of them, and not insofar as he has only the idea of the [10] human Body (by P9C). So the knowledge of the duration of our Body is quite inadequate in God, insofar as he is considered to constitute only the nature of the human Mind, i.e. (by P11C), this knowledge is quite inadequate in our Mind, q.e.d.

[15] P31: We can have only an entirely inadequate knowledge of the duration of the singular things which are outside us.

Dem.: For each singular thing, like the human Body, must be determined [20] by another singular thing to exist and produce effects in a certain and determinate way, and this again by another, and so to infinity (by IP28). But since (in P30) we have demonstrated from this common property of singular things that we have only a very inadequate knowledge of the duration of our Body, we shall have to draw [25] the same conclusion concerning the duration of singular things [outside us], viz. that we can have only a very inadequate knowledge of their duration, q.e.d.

Cor.: From this it follows that all particular things are contingent [30] and corruptible. For we can have no adequate knowledge of their duration (by P31), and that is what we must understand by the contingency [II/116] of things and the possibility of their corruption (see IP33S1). For (by IP29) beyond that there is no contingency.

P32: All ideas, insofar as they are related to God, are true.

[5] Dem.: For all ideas which are in God agree entirely with their objects52 (by P7C), and so (by IA6) they are all true, q.e.d.

[10] P33: There is nothing positive in ideas on account of which they are called false.

Dem.: If you deny this, conceive (if possible) a positive mode of thinking which constitutes the form of error, or falsity. This mode of [15] thinking cannot be in God (by P32). But it also can neither be nor be conceived outside God (by IP15). And so there can be nothing positive in ideas on account of which they are called false, q.e.d.

[20] P34: Every idea that in us is absolute, or adequate and perfect, is true.

Dem.: When we say that there is in us an adequate and perfect idea, we are saying nothing but that (by P11C) there is an adequate and perfect idea in God insofar as he constitutes the essence of our [25] Mind, and consequently (by P32) we are saying nothing but that such an idea is true, q.e.d.

P35: Falsity consists in the privation of knowledge which inadequate, or mutilated and confused, ideas involve.

[II/117] Dem.: There is nothing positive in ideas that constitutes the form of falsity (by P33); but falsity cannot consist in an absolute privation53 (for it is Minds, not Bodies, which are said to err, or be deceived), [5] nor also in absolute ignorance. For to be ignorant and to err are different. So it consists in the privation of knowledge that inadequate knowledge of things, or inadequate and confused ideas, involve, q.e.d.

[10] Schol.: In P17S I explained how error consists in the privation of knowledge. But to explain the matter more fully, I shall give [NS: one or two examples]: men are deceived in that they think themselves free [NS: i.e., they think that, of their own free will, they can either do a thing or forbear doing it],54 an opinion which consists only in this, [15] that they are conscious of their actions and ignorant of the causes by which they are determined. This, then, is their idea of freedom—that they do not know any cause of their actions. They say, of course, that human actions depend on the will, but these are only words for which they have no idea. For all are ignorant of what the will is, and how it [20] moves the Body; those who boast of something else, who feign seats and dwelling places of the soul, usually provoke either ridicule or disgust.55

Similarly, when we look at the sun, we imagine it as about 200 feet away from us, an error that does not consist simply in this imagining, but in the fact that while we imagine it in this way, we are ignorant [25] of its true distance and of the cause of this imagining. For even if we later come to know that it is more than 600 diameters of the earth away from us, we nevertheless imagine it as near. For we imagine the sun so near not because we do not know its true distance, but because an affection of our body involves the essence of the sun insofar as our [30] body is affected by the sun.56

P36: Inadequate and confused ideas follow with the same necessity as adequate, or clear and distinct ideas.

[II/118] Dem.: All ideas are in God (by IP15); and, insofar as they are related to God, are true (by P32), and (by P7C) adequate. And so there [5] are no inadequate or confused ideas except insofar as they are related to the singular Mind of someone (see P24 and P28). And so all ideas—both the adequate and the inadequate—follow with the same necessity (by P6C), q.e.d.

[10] P37: What is common to all things (on this see L2, above) and is equally in the part and in the whole, does not constitute the essence of any singular thing.

Dem.: If you deny this, conceive (if possible) that it does constitute [15] the essence of some singular thing, say the essence of B. Then (by D2) it can neither be nor be conceived without B. But this is contrary to the hypothesis. Therefore, it does not pertain to the essence of B, nor does it constitute the essence of any other singular thing, q.e.d.

[20] P38: Those things which are common to all, and which are equally in the part and in the whole, can only be conceived adequately.

Dem.: Let A be something which is common to all bodies, and which is equally in the part of each body and in the whole. I say that [25] A can only be conceived adequately. For its idea (by P7C) will necessarily be adequate in God, both insofar as he has the idea of the human Body and insofar as he has ideas of its affections, which (by P16, P25, and P27) involve in part both the nature of the human Body [30] and that of external bodies. That is (by P12 and P13), this idea will necessarily be adequate in God insofar as he constitutes the human [II/119] Mind, or insofar as he has ideas that are in the human Mind. The Mind therefore (by P11C) necessarily perceives A adequately, and does so both insofar as it perceives itself and insofar as it perceives its own or any external body. Nor can A be conceived in another way, q.e.d.

[5] Cor.: From this it follows that there are certain ideas, or notions, common to all men.57 For (by L2) all bodies agree in certain things, which (by P38) must be perceived adequately, or clearly and distinctly, by all.

[10] P39: If something is common to, and peculiar to, the human Body and certain external bodies by which the human Body is usually affected, and is equally in the part and in the whole of each of them, its idea will also be adequate in the Mind.

[15] Dem.: Let A be that which is common to, and peculiar to, the human Body and certain external bodies, which is equally in the human Body and in the same external bodies, and finally, which is equally in the part of each external body and in the whole. There will be an [20] adequate idea of A in God (by P7C), both insofar as he has the idea of the human Body, and insofar as he has ideas of the posited external bodies. Let it be posited now that the human Body is affected by an external body through what it has in common with it, i.e., by A; the [25] idea of this affection will involve property A (by P16), and so (by P7C) the idea of this affection, insofar as it involves property A, will be adequate in God insofar as he is affected with the idea of the human Body, i.e. (by P13), insofar as he constitutes the nature of the human Mind. And so (by P11C), this idea is also adequate in the human [30] Mind, q.e.d.

Cor.: From this it follows that the Mind is the more capable of [II/120] perceiving many things adequately as its Body has many things in common with other bodies.

P40: Whatever ideas follow in the Mind from ideas that are adequate in the [5] mind are also adequate.

Dem.: This is evident. For when we say that an idea in the human Mind follows from ideas that are adequate in it, we are saying nothing but that (by P11C) in the Divine intellect there is an idea of which [10] God is the cause, not insofar as he is infinite,58 nor insofar as he is affected with the ideas of a great many singular things, but insofar as he constitutes only the essence of the human Mind [NS: and therefore, it must be adequate].59

[15] Schol. I:60 With this I have explained the cause of those notions which are called common, and which are the foundations of our reasoning.

But some axioms, or notions,61 result from other causes which it would be helpful to explain by this method of ours. For from these [explanations] it would be established which notions are more useful than the others, and which are of hardly any use; and then, which are [20] common, which are clear and distinct only to those who have no prejudices, and finally, which are ill-founded. Moreover, we would establish what is the origin of those notions they call Second,62 and consequently of the axioms founded on them, and other things I have thought about, from time to time,63 concerning these matters. But since I have [25] set these aside for another Treatise,64 and do not wish to give rise to disgust by too long a discussion, I have decided to pass over them here.

But not to omit anything it is necessary to know, I shall briefly add something about the causes from which the terms called Transcendental have had their origin—I mean terms like Being, Thing and something. [30] These terms arise from the fact that the human Body, being limited, is capable of forming distinctly only a certain number of images at the same time (I have explained what an image is in P17S). If that number is exceeded, the images will begin to be confused, and if the number of images the Body is capable of forming distinctly in itself at once is [II/121] greatly exceeded, they will all be completely confused with one another.

Since this is so, it is evident from P17C and P18, that the human Mind will be able to imagine distinctly, at the same time, as many bodies as there can be images formed at the same time in its body. [5] But when the images in the body are completely confused, the Mind also will imagine all the bodies confusedly, without any distinction, and comprehend them as if under one attribute, viz. under the attribute of Being, Thing, etc. This can also be deduced from the fact that images are not always equally vigorous and from other causes like [10] these, which it is not necessary to explain here. For our purpose it is sufficient to consider only one. For they all reduce to this: these terms signify ideas that are confused in the highest degree.

Those notions they call Universal, like Man, Horse, Dog, etc., have arisen from similar causes, viz. because so many images (e.g., of men) [15] are formed at one time in the human Body that they surpass the power of imagining—not entirely, of course, but still to the point where the Mind can imagine neither slight differences of the singular [men] (such as the color and size of each one, etc.) nor their determinate number, and imagines distinctly only what they all agree in, insofar as they [20] affect the body. For the body has been affected most [NS: forcefully] by [what is common], since each singular has affected it [by this property]. And [NS: the mind] expresses this by the word man, and predicates it of infinitely many singulars. For as we have said, it cannot imagine a determinate number of singulars.

But it should be noted that these notions are not formed by all [NS: [25] men] in the same way, but vary from one to another, in accordance with what the body has more often been affected by, and what the Mind imagines or recollects more easily. For example, those who have more often regarded men’s stature with wonder will understand by the word man an animal of erect stature. But those who have been [30] accustomed to consider something else, will form another common image of men—e.g., that man is an animal capable of laughter, or a featherless biped, or a rational animal.

And similarly concerning the others—each will form universal images of things according to the disposition of his body. Hence it is not surprising that so many controversies have arisen among the philosophers, who have wished to explain natural things by mere images of [35] things.

[II/122] Schol. 2: From what has been said above, it is clear that we perceive many things and form universal notions:

I. from singular things which have been represented to us through the senses in a way that is mutilated, confused, and without order for [5] the intellect (see P29C); for that reason I have been accustomed to call such perceptions knowledge from random experience;

II. from signs, e.g., from the fact that, having heard or read certain words, we recollect things, and form certain ideas of them, which are like them, and through which we imagine the things (P18S). These [10] two ways of regarding things I shall henceforth call knowledge of the first kind, opinion or imagination.

III. Finally, from the fact that we have common notions65 and adequate ideas of the properties of things (see P38C, P39, P39C, and P40). This I shall call reason and the second kind of knowledge.

[15] [IV.] In addition to these two kinds of knowledge, there is (as I shall show in what follows) another, third kind, which we shall call intuitive knowledge. And this kind of knowing proceeds from an adequate idea of the formal essence of certain attributes of God to the adequate knowledge of the [NS: formal] essence of things.

I shall explain all these with one example. Suppose there are three [20] numbers, and the problem is to find a fourth which is to the third as the second is to the first. Merchants do not hesitate to multiply the second by the third, and divide the product by the first, because they have not yet forgotten what they heard from their teacher without any demonstration, or because they have often found this in the simplest [25] numbers, or from the force of the Demonstration of P7 in Bk. VII of Euclid, viz. from the common property of proportionals. But in the simplest numbers none of this is necessary. Given the numbers 1, 2, and 3, no one fails to see that the fourth proportional number is 6—and we see this much more clearly because we infer the fourth number from the ratio which, in one glance, we see the first number to have [30] the second.66

P41: Knowledge of the first kind is the only cause of falsity, whereas knowledge of the second and of the third kind is necessarily true.

[II/123] Dem.: We have said in the preceding scholium that to knowledge of the first kind pertain all those ideas which are inadequate and confused; and so (by P35) this knowledge is the only cause of falsity. [5] Next, we have said that to knowledge of the second and third kinds pertain those which are adequate; and so (by P34) this knowledge is necessarily true.

P42: Knowledge of the second and third kinds, and not of the first kind, teaches [10] us to distinguish the true from the false.

Dem.: This Proposition is evident through itself. For he who knows how to distinguish between the true and the false must have an adequate idea of the true and of the false, i.e. (P40S2), must know the [15] true and the false by the second or third kind of knowledge.

P43: He who has a true idea at the same time knows that he has a true idea, and cannot doubt the truth of the thing.

[20] Dem.: An idea true in us is that which is adequate in God insofar as he is explained through the nature of the human Mind (by P11C). Let us posit, therefore, that there is in God, insofar as he is explained through the nature of the human Mind, an adequate idea, A. Of this idea there must necessarily also be in God an idea which is related to God in the same way as idea A (by P20, whose demonstration is [25] universal [NS: and can be applied to all ideas]). But idea A is supposed to be related to God insofar as he is explained through the nature of the human Mind; therefore the idea of idea A must also be related to [30] God in the same way, i.e. (by the same P11C), this adequate idea of idea A will be in the Mind itself which has the adequate idea A. And so he who has an adequate idea, or (by P34) who knows a thing truly, [II/124] must at the same time have an adequate idea, or true knowledge, of his own knowledge. I.e. (as is manifest through itself), he must at the same time be certain, q.e.d.

Schol.: In P21S I have explained what an idea of an idea is. But it [5] should be noted that the preceding proposition is sufficiently manifest through itself. For no one who has a true idea is unaware that a true idea involves the highest certainty. For to have a true idea means nothing other than knowing a thing perfectly, or in the best way. And [10] of course no one can doubt this unless he thinks that an idea is something mute, like a picture on a tablet, and not a mode of thinking, viz. the very [act of] understanding. And I ask, who can know that he understands some thing unless he first understands it? I.e., who can know that he is certain about some thing unless he is first certain about it? What can there be which is clearer and more certain than a true [15] idea, to serve as a standard of truth? As the light makes both itself and the darkness plain, so truth is the standard both of itself and of the false.

By this I think we have replied to these questions: if a true idea is distinguished from a false one, [NS: not insofar as it is said to be a mode of thinking, but] only insofar as it is said to agree with its object, [20] then a true idea has no more reality or perfection than a false one (since they are distinguished only through the extrinsic denomination [NS: and not through the intrinsic denomination])—and so, does the man who has true ideas [NS: have any more reality or perfection] than [25] him who has only false ideas? Again, why do men have false ideas? And finally, how can someone know certainly that he has ideas which agree with their objects?67

To these questions, I say, I think I have already replied. For as far as the difference between a true and a false idea is concerned, it is [30] established from P35 that the true is related to the false as being is to nonbeing. And the causes of falsity I have shown most clearly from P19 to P35S. From this it is also clear what is the difference between the man who has true ideas and the man who has only false ideas. [35] Finally, as to the last, viz. how a man can know that he has an idea that agrees with its object? I have just shown, more than sufficiently, that this arises solely from his having an idea that does agree with its object—or that truth is its own standard. Add to this that our Mind, [II/125] insofar as it perceives things truly, is part of the infinite intellect of God (by P11C); hence, it is as necessary that the mind’s clear and distinct ideas are true as that God’s ideas are.

[5] P44: It is of the nature of Reason to regard things as necessary, not as contingent.

Dem.: It is of the nature of reason to perceive things truly (by P41), [10] viz. (by IA6) as they are in themselves, i.e. (by IP29), not as contingent but as necessary, q.e.d.

Cor. 1: From this it follows that it depends only on the imagination that we regard things as contingent, both in respect to the past and in respect to the future.

[15] Schol.: I shall explain briefly how this happens. We have shown above (by P17 and P17C) that even though things do not exist, the Mind still imagines them always as present to itself, unless causes occur which exclude their present existence. Next, we have shown [20] (P18) that if the human Body has once been affected by two external bodies at the same time, then afterwards, when the Mind imagines one of them, it will immediately recollect the other also, i.e., it will regard both as present to itself unless causes occur which exclude their [25] present existence. Moreover, no one doubts but what we also imagine time, viz. from the fact that we imagine some bodies to move more slowly, or more quickly, or with the same speed.

Let us suppose, then, a child, who saw Peter for the first time yesterday, in the morning, but saw Paul at noon, and Simon in the [30] evening, and today again saw Peter in the morning. It is clear from P18 that as soon as he sees the morning light, he will immediately imagine the sun taking the same course through the sky as he saw on the preceding day, or he will imagine the whole day, and Peter to [II/126] gether with the morning, Paul with noon, and Simon with the evening. That is, he will imagine the existence of Paul and of Simon with a relation to future time. On the other hand, if he sees Simon in the evening, he will relate Paul and Peter to the time past, by imagining [5] them together with past time. And he will do this more uniformly, the more often he has seen them in this same order.

But if it should happen at some time that on some other evening he sees James instead of Simon, then on the following morning he will imagine now Simon, now James, together with the evening time, but [10] not both at once. For it is supposed that he has seen one or the other of them in the evening, but not both at once. His imagination, therefore, will vacillate and he will imagine now this one, now that one, with the future evening time, i.e., he will regard neither of them as certainly future, but both of them as contingently future.

And this vacillation of the imagination will be the same if the imagination [15] is of things we regard in the same way with relation to past time or to present time. Consequently we shall imagine things as contingent in relation to present time as well as to past and future time.

[20] Cor 2: It is of the nature of Reason to perceive things under a certain species of eternity.

Dem.: It is of the nature of Reason to regard things as necessary and not as contingent (by P44). And it perceives this necessity of [25] things truly (by P41), i.e. (by IA6), as it is in itself. But (by IP16) this necessity of things is the very necessity of God’s eternal nature. Therefore, it is of the nature of Reason to regard things under this species of eternity.

Add to this that the foundations of Reason are notions (by P38) [30] which explain those things that are common to all, and which (by P37) do not explain the essence of any singular thing. On that account, they must be conceived without any relation to time, but under a certain species of eternity, q.e.d.

[II/127] P45: Each idea of each body, or of each singular thing which actually exists, necessarily involves an68 eternal and infinite essence of God.

[5] Dem.: The idea of a singular thing which actually exists necessarily involves both the essence of the thing and its existence (by P8C). But singular things (by IP15) cannot be conceived without God—on the [10] contrary, because (by P6) they have God for a cause insofar as he is considered under the attribute of which the things are modes, their ideas must involve the concept of their attribute (by IA4), i.e. (by ID6), must involve an eternal and infinite essence of God, q.e.d.

[15] Schol.: By existence here I do not understand duration, i.e., existence insofar as it is conceived abstractly, and as a certain species of quantity. For I am speaking of the very nature of existence, which is attributed to singular things because infinitely many things follow from the eternal necessity of God’s nature in infinitely many modes (see [20] IP16). I am speaking, I say, of the very existence of singular things insofar as they are in God. For even if each one is determined by another singular thing to exist in a certain way, still the force by which each one perseveres in existing follows from the eternal necessity of God’s nature. Concerning this, see IP24C.

[25] P46: The knowledge of God’s eternal and infinite essence which each idea involves is adequate and perfect.

Dem.: The demonstration of the preceding Proposition is Universal, [30] and whether the thing is considered as a part or as a whole, its idea, whether of the whole or a part (by P45), will involve God’s eternal and infinite essence. So what gives knowledge of an eternal [II/128] and infinite essence of God is common to all, and is equally in the part and in the whole. And so (by P38) this knowledge will be adequate, q.e.d.

P47: The human Mind has an adequate knowledge of God’s eternal and infinite [5] essence.

Dem.: The human Mind has ideas (by P22) from which it perceives (by P23) itself, (by P19) its own Body, and (by P16C1 and P17) external [10] bodies as actually existing. And so (by P45 and P46) it has an adequate knowledge of God’s eternal and infinite essence, q.e.d.

Schol.: From this we see that God’s infinite essence and his eternity are known to all. And since all things are in God and are conceived [15] through God, it follows that we can deduce from this knowledge a great many things which we know adequately, and so can form that third kind of knowledge of which we spoke in P40S2 and of whose excellence and utility we shall speak in Part V.

But that men do not have so clear a knowledge of God as they do [20] of the common notions comes from the fact that they cannot imagine God, as they can bodies, and that they have joined the name God to the images of things which they are used to seeing. Men can hardly avoid this, because they are continually affected by bodies.

And indeed, most errors consist only in our not rightly applying [25] names to things. For when someone says that the lines which are drawn from the center of a circle to its circumference are unequal, he surely understands (then at least) by a circle something different from what Mathematicians understand. Similarly, when men err in calculating, they have certain numbers in their mind and different ones on the paper. So if you consider what they have in Mind, they really do [30] not err, though they seem to err because we think they have in their mind the numbers which are on the paper. If this were not so, we would not believe that they were erring, just as I did not believe that [II/129] he was erring whom I recently heard cry out that his courtyard had flown into his neighbor’s hen [NS: although his words were absurd], because what he had in mind seemed sufficiently clear to me [viz. that his hen had flown into his neighbor’s courtyard].

And most controversies have arisen from this, that men do not rightly explain their own mind, or interpret the mind of the other man badly. [5] For really, when they contradict one another most vehemently, they either have the same thoughts, or they are thinking of different things,69 so that what they think are errors and absurdities in the other are not.

P48: In the Mind there is no absolute, or free, will, but the Mind is determined [10] to will this or that by a cause which is also determined by another, and this again by another, and so to infinity.

Dem.: The Mind is a certain and determinate mode of thinking (by P11), and so (by IP17C2) cannot be a free cause of its own actions, or [15] cannot have an absolute faculty of willing and not willing. Rather, it must be determined to willing this or that (by IP28) by a cause which is also determined by another, and this cause again by another, etc., q.e.d.

[20] Schol.: In this same way it is also demonstrated that there is in the Mind no absolute faculty of understanding, desiring, loving, etc. From this it follows that these and similar faculties are either complete fictions or nothing but Metaphysical beings, or universals, which we are used to forming from particulars. So intellect and will are to this or [25] that idea, or to this or that volition as ‘stone-ness’ is to this or that stone, or man to Peter or Paul.

We have explained the cause of men’s thinking themselves free in the Appendix of Part I. But before I proceed further, it should be [30] noted here70 that by will I understand a faculty of affirming and denying, and not desire. I say that I understand the faculty by which [II/130] the Mind affirms or denies something true or something false, and not the desire by which the Mind wants a thing or avoids it.

But after we have demonstrated that these faculties are universal notions which are not distinguished from the singulars from which we [5] form them, we must now investigate whether the volitions themselves are anything beyond the very ideas of things. We must investigate, I say, whether there is any other affirmation or negation in the Mind except that which the idea involves, insofar as it is an idea—on this see the following Proposition and also D3—so that our thought does not fall into pictures. For by ideas I understand, not the images that [10] are formed at the back of the eye (and, if you like, in the middle of the brain),71 but concepts of Thought [NS: or the objective Being of a thing insofar as it consists only in Thought].

[15] P49: In the Mind there is no volition, or affirmation and negation, except that which the idea involves insofar as it is an idea.

Dem.: In the Mind (by P48) there is no absolute faculty of willing [20] and not willing, but only singular volitions, viz. this and that affirmation, and this and that negation. Let us conceive, therefore, some singular volition, say a mode of thinking by which the Mind affirms that the three angles of a triangle are equal to two right angles.

This affirmation involves the concept, or idea, of the triangle, i.e., it cannot be conceived without the idea of the triangle. For to say that [25] A must involve the concept of B is the same as to say that A cannot be conceived without B. Further, this affirmation (by A3) also cannot be without the idea of the triangle. Therefore, this affirmation can neither be nor be conceived without the idea of the triangle.

Next, this idea of the triangle must involve this same affirmation, [30] viz. that its three angles equal two right angles. So conversely, this idea of the triangle also can neither be nor be conceived without this affirmation.

So (by D2) this affirmation pertains to the essence of the idea of the triangle, and is nothing beyond it. And what we have said concerning this volition (since we have selected it at random), must also be said [35] concerning any volition, viz. that it is nothing apart from the idea, q.e.d.

[II/131] Cor.: The will and the intellect are one and the same.

Dem.: The will and the intellect are nothing apart from the singular [5] volitions and ideas themselves (by P48 and P48S). But the singular volitions and ideas are one and the same (by P49). Therefore the will and the intellect are one and the same, q.e.d.

Schol.: [I.] By this we have removed what is commonly maintained [10] to be the cause of error.72 Moreover, we have shown above that falsity consists only in the privation that mutilated and confused ideas involve. So a false idea, insofar as it is false, does not involve certainty. When we say that a man rests in false ideas, and does not doubt them, we do not, on that account, say that he is certain, but only that he [15] does not doubt, or that he rests in false ideas because there are no causes to bring it about that his imagination wavers [NS: or to cause him to doubt them]. On this, see P44S.

Therefore, however stubbornly a man may cling to something false [NS: so that we cannot in any way make him doubt it], we shall still [20] never say that he is certain of it. For by certainty we understand something positive (see P43 and P43S), not the privation of doubt. But by the privation of certainty, we understand falsity.

However, to explain the preceding Proposition more fully, there remain certain things I must warn you of. And then I must reply to [25] the objections that can be made against this doctrine of ours. And finally, to remove every uneasiness, I thought it worthwhile to indicate some of the advantages of this doctrine. Some, I say—for the most important ones will be better understood from what we shall say in Part V.

[30] [II.] I begin, therefore, by warning my Readers, first, to distinguish accurately between an idea, or concept, of the Mind, and the images of things that we imagine. And then it is necessary to distinguish between ideas and the words by which we signify things. For because many people either completely confuse these three—ideas, images, [II/132] and words—or do not distinguish them accurately enough, or carefully enough, they have been completely ignorant of this doctrine concerning the will. But it is quite necessary to know it, both for the sake of speculation73 and in order to arrange one’s life wisely.

[5] Indeed, those who think that ideas consist in images which are formed in us from encounters with [NS: external] bodies, are convinced that those ideas of things [NS: which can make no trace in our brains, or] of which we can form no similar image [NS: in our brain] are not ideas, but only fictions which we feign from a free choice of the will. [10] They look on ideas, therefore, as mute pictures on a panel, and preoccupied with this prejudice, do not see that an idea, insofar as it is an idea, involves an affirmation or negation.74

And then, those who confuse words with the idea, or with the very affirmation that the idea involves, think that they can will something contrary to what they are aware of, when they only affirm or deny [15] with words something contrary to what they are aware of.75 But these prejudices can easily be put aside by anyone who attends to the nature of thought, which does not at all involve the concept of extension. He will then understand clearly that an idea (since it is a mode of thinking) consists neither in the image of anything, nor in words. For the essence [20] of words and of images is constituted only by corporeal motions, which do not at all involve the concept of thought.

It should suffice to have issued these few words of warning on this matter, so I pass to objections mentioned above.

[III.A.(i)] The first of these is that they think it clear that the will extends more widely than the intellect, and so is different from the [25] intellect. The reason why they think the will extends more widely than the intellect is that they say they know by experience that they do not require a greater faculty of assenting, or affirming, and denying, than we already have, in order to assent to infinitely many other things which we do not perceive—but they do require a greater faculty [30] of understanding. The will, therefore, is distinguished from the intellect because the intellect is finite and the will is infinite.

[III.A.(ii)] Secondly, it can be objected to us that experience seems to teach nothing more clearly than that we can suspend our judgment so as not to assent to things we perceive. This also seems to be confirmed [35] from the fact that no one is said to be deceived insofar as he perceives something, but only insofar as he assents or dissents. E.g., someone who feigns a winged horse does not on that account grant [II/133] that there is a winged horse, i.e., he is not on that account deceived unless at the same time he grants that there is a winged horse. Therefore, experience seems to teach nothing more clearly than that the will, or faculty of assenting, is free, and different from the faculty of understanding.

[5] [III.A.(iii)] Thirdly, it can be objected that one affirmation does not seem to contain more reality than another, i.e., we do not seem to require a greater power to affirm that what is true, is true, than to affirm that something false is true. But [NS: with ideas it is different, [10] for] we perceive that one idea has more reality, or perfection, than another. As some objects are more excellent than others, so also some ideas of objects are more perfect than others. This also seems to establish a difference between the will and the intellect.

[III.A.(iv)] Fourth, it can be objected that if man does not act from [15] freedom of the will, what will happen if he is in a state of equilibrium, like Buridan’s ass?76 Will he perish of hunger and of thirst? If I concede that he will, I would seem to conceive an ass, or a statue of a man, not a man.77 But if I deny that he will, then he will determine himself, and consequently have the faculty of going where he wills and doing what he wills.

Perhaps other things in addition to these can be objected. But because [20] I am not bound to force on you what anyone can dream, I shall only take the trouble to reply to these objections—and that as briefly as I can.

[III.B.(i)] To the first I say that I grant that the will extends more widely than the intellect, if by intellect they understand only clear [25] and distinct ideas. But I deny that the will extends more widely than perceptions, or the faculty of conceiving. And indeed, I do not see why the faculty of willing should be called infinite, when the faculty of sensing is not. For just as we can affirm infinitely many things by the same faculty of willing (but one after another, for we cannot affirm [30] infinitely many things at once), so also we can sense, or perceive, infinitely many bodies by the same faculty of sensing (viz. one after another [NS: and not at once].78

If they say that there are infinitely many things which we cannot perceive, I reply that we cannot reach them by any thought, and [35] consequently, not by any faculty of willing. But, they say, if God willed to bring it about that we should perceive them also, he would have to give us a greater faculty of perceiving, but not a greater faculty of willing than he has given us. This is the same as if they said that, [II/134] if God should will to bring it about that we understood infinitely many other beings, it would indeed be necessary for him to give us a greater intellect, but not a more universal idea of being, in order for us to embrace79 the same infinity of beings. For we have shown that the will is a universal being, or idea, by which we explain all the [5] singular volitions, i.e., it is what is common to them all.

Therefore, since they believe that this common or universal idea of all volitions is a faculty,80 it is not at all surprising if they say that this faculty extends beyond the limits of the intellect to infinity. For the universal is said equally of one, a great many, or infinitely many [10] individuals.

[III.B(ii)] To the second objection I reply by denying that we have a free power of suspending judgment. For when we say that someone suspends judgment, we are saying nothing but that he sees that he does not perceive the thing adequately. Suspension of judgment, [15] therefore, is really a perception, not [an act of] free will.

To understand this clearly, let us conceive a child imagining a winged horse, and not perceiving anything else. Since this imagination involves the existence of the horse (by P17C), and the child does not perceive anything else that excludes the existence of the horse, he will [20] necessarily regard the horse as present. Nor will he be able to doubt its existence, though he will not be certain of it.

We find this daily in our dreams, and I do not believe there is anyone who thinks that while he is dreaming he has a free power of suspending judgment concerning the things he dreams, and of bringing [25] it about that he does not dream the things he dreams he sees. Nevertheless, it happens that even in dreams we suspend judgment, viz. when we dream that we dream.

Next, I grant that no one is deceived insofar as he perceives, i.e., I grant that the imaginations of the Mind, considered in themselves, [30] involve no error. But I deny that a man affirms nothing insofar as he perceives. For what is perceiving a winged horse other than affirming wings of the horse? For if the Mind perceived nothing else except the winged horse, it would regard it as present to itself, and would not have any cause of doubting its existence, or any faculty of dissenting, [35] unless either the imagination of the winged horse were joined to an idea which excluded the existence of the same horse, or the Mind perceived that its idea of a winged horse was inadequate. And then either it will necessarily deny the horse’s existence, or it will necessarily doubt it.

[II/135] [III.B.(iii)] As for the third objection, I think what has been said will be an answer to it too: viz. that the will is something universal, which is predicated of all ideas, and which signifies only what is common to all ideas, viz. the affirmation, whose adequate essence, there [5] fore, insofar as it is thus conceived abstractly, must be in each idea,81 [10] and in this way only must be the same in all, but not insofar as it is considered to constitute the idea’s essence; for in that regard the singular affirmations differ from one another as much as the ideas themselves do. For example, the affirmation that the idea of a circle involves differs from that which the idea of a triangle involves as much as the idea of the circle differs from the idea of the triangle.

[15] Next, I deny absolutely that we require an equal power of thinking, to affirm that what is true is true, as to affirm that what is false is true. For if you consider the mind,82 they are related to one another as being to not-being. For there is nothing positive in ideas which [20] constitutes the form of falsity (see P35, P35S, and P47S). So the thing to note here, above all, is how easily we are deceived when we confuse universals with singulars, and beings of reason and abstractions with real beings.

[III.B. (iv)] Finally, as far as the fourth objection is concerned, I say [25] that I grant entirely that a man placed in such an equilibrium (viz. who perceives nothing but thirst and hunger, and such food and drink as are equally distant from him) will perish of hunger and thirst. If they ask me whether such a man should not be thought an ass, rather than a man, I say that I do not know—just as I also do not know how [30] highly we should esteem one who hangs himself, or children, fools, and madmen, etc.83

[IV.] It remains now to indicate how much knowledge of this doctrine is to our advantage in life. We shall see this easily from the following considerations:

[A.] Insofar as it teaches that we act only from God’s command, [35] that we share in the divine nature, and that we do this the more, the more perfect our actions are, and the more and more we understand God. This doctrine, then, in addition to giving us complete peace of mind, also teaches us wherein our greatest happiness, or blessedness, [II/136] consists: viz. in the knowledge of God alone, by which we are led to do only those things which love and morality advise. From this we clearly understand how far they stray from the true valuation of virtue, who expect to be honored by God with the greatest rewards for [5] their virtue and best actions, as for the greatest bondage—as if virtue itself, and the service of God, were not happiness itself, and the greatest freedom.

[B.] Insofar as it teaches us how we must bear ourselves concerning matters of fortune, or things which are not in our power, i.e., concerning things which do not follow from our nature—that we must [10] expect and bear calmly both good fortune and bad. For all things follow from God’s eternal decree with the same necessity as from the essence of a triangle it follows that its three angles are equal to two right angles.

[C.] This doctrine contributes to social life, insofar as it teaches us to hate no one, to disesteem no one, to mock no one, to be angry at [15] no one, to envy no one; and also insofar as it teaches that each of us should be content with his own things, and should be helpful to his neighbor, not from unmanly compassion, partiality, or superstition, but from the guidance of reason, as the time and occasion demand. I shall show this in the Fourth Part.84

[D.] Finally, this doctrine also contributes, to no small extent, to [20] the common society insofar as it teaches how citizens are to be governed and led, not so that they may be slaves, but that they may do freely the things that are best.

And with this I have finished what I had decided to treat in this scholium, and put an end to this our Second Part. In it I think that I have explained the nature and properties of the human Mind in sufficient [25] detail, and as clearly as the difficulty of the subject allows, and that I have set out doctrines from which we can infer many excellent things, which are highly useful and necessary to know, as will be established partly in what follows.

[II/137] Third Part Of the Ethics On the Origin and Nature of the Affects1

PREFACE

Most of those who have written about the Affects, and men’s way of living, seem to treat, not of natural things, which follow the common laws of nature, [10] but of things which are outside nature. Indeed they seem to conceive man in nature as a dominion within a dominion. For they believe that man disturbs, rather than follows, the order of nature, that he has absolute power over his [15] actions, and that he is determined only by himself. And they attribute the cause of human impotence, not to the common power of nature, but to I know not what vice of human nature, which they therefore bewail, or laugh at, or disdain, or (as usually happens) curse. And he who knows how to censure more [20] eloquently and cunningly the weakness of the human Mind is held to be Godly.

It is true that there have been some very distinguished men (to whose work and diligence we confess that we owe much), who have written many admirable things about the right way of living, and given men advice full of prudence. But no one, to my knowledge, has determined the nature and powers of the [25] Affects,2 nor what, on the other hand, the Mind can do to moderate them. I know, of course, that the celebrated Descartes, although he too believed that the [II/138] Mind has absolute power over its own actions, nevertheless sought to explain human Affects through their first causes, and at the same time to show the way by which the Mind can have absolute dominion over its Affects.3 But in my opinion, he showed nothing but the cleverness of his understanding, as I shall [5] show in the proper place.

For now I wish to return to those who prefer to curse or laugh at the Affects and actions of men, rather than understand them. To them it will doubtless seem strange that I should undertake to treat men’s vices and absurdities in the Geometric style, and that I should wish to demonstrate by certain [10] reasoning things which are contrary to reason, and which they proclaim to be empty, absurd, and horrible.

But my reason is this:4 nothing happens in nature which can be attributed to any defect in it, for nature is always the same, and its virtue and power of acting are everywhere one and the same, i.e., the laws and rules of nature, [15] according to which all things happen, and change from one form to another, are always and everywhere the same. So the way of understanding the nature of anything, of whatever kind, must also be the same, viz. through the universal laws and rules of nature.

The Affects, therefore, of hate, anger, envy, etc., considered in themselves, [20] follow from the same necessity and force of nature as the other singular things. And therefore they acknowledge certain causes, through which they are understood, and have certain properties, as worthy of our knowledge as the properties of any other thing, by the mere contemplation of which we are pleased. Therefore, I shall treat the nature and powers of the Affects, and the power of the [25] Mind over them, by the same Method by which, in the preceding parts, I treated God and the Mind, and I shall consider human actions and appetites just as if it were a Question of lines, planes, and bodies.

[II/139] DEFINITIONS

D1: I call that cause adequate whose effect can be clearly and distinctly perceived through it. But I call it partial, or inadequate, if its [5] effect cannot be understood through it alone.

D2: I say that we act when something happens, in us or outside us, of which we are the adequate cause, i.e. (by D1), when something in us or outside us follows from our nature, which can be clearly and [10] distinctly understood through it alone. On the other hand, I say that we are acted on when something happens in us, or something follows from our nature, of which we are only a partial cause.

D3: By affect I understand affections of the Body by which the Body’s [15] power of acting is increased or diminished, aided or restrained, and at the same time, the ideas of these affections.

Therefore, if we can be the adequate cause of any of these affections, I understand by the Affect an action; otherwise, a passion.

[20] POSTULATES

Post. 1: The human Body can be affected in many ways in which its power of acting is increased or diminished, and also in others which render its power of acting neither greater nor less.

[25] This Postulate, or Axiom, rests on Post. 1, L5, and L7 (after IIP13).

Post. 2: The human Body can undergo many changes, and nevertheless [II/140] retain impressions, or traces, of the objects (on this see IIPost. 5), and consequently, the same images of things. (For the definition of images, see IIP17S.)

P1: Our Mind does certain things [acts] and undergoes other things, viz. [5] insofar as it has adequate ideas, it necessarily does certain things, and insofar as it has inadequate ideas, it necessarily undergoes other things.

Dem.: In each human Mind some ideas are adequate, but others are [10] mutilated and confused (by IIP40S).5 But ideas that are adequate in someone’s Mind are adequate in God insofar as he constitutes the essence of that Mind [only]6 (by IIP11C). And those that are inadequate in the Mind are also adequate in God (by the same Cor.), not [15] insofar as he contains only the essence of that Mind, but insofar as he also contains in himself, at the same time, the Minds7 of other things. Next, from any given idea some effect must necessarily follow (IP36), of which effect God is the adequate cause (see D1), not insofar as he is infinite, but insofar as he is considered to be affected by that given [20] idea (see IIP9). But if God, insofar as he is affected by an idea that is adequate in someone’s Mind, is the cause of an effect, that same Mind is the effect’s adequate cause (by IIP11C). Therefore, our Mind (by D2), insofar as it has adequate ideas, necessarily does certain things [acts]. This was the first thing to be proven.

[25] Next, if something necessarily follows from an idea that is adequate in God, not insofar as he has in himself the Mind of one man only, but insofar as he has in himself the Minds of other things together with the Mind of that man, that man’s Mind (by the same IIP11C) is not its adequate cause, but its partial cause. Hence (by D2), insofar as [30] the Mind has inadequate ideas, it necessarily undergoes certain things. This was the second point. Therefore, our Mind, etc., q.e.d.

[II/141] Cor.: From this it follows that the Mind is more liable to passions the more it has inadequate ideas, and conversely, is more active the more it has adequate ideas.

[5] P2: The Body cannot determine the Mind to thinking, and the Mind cannot determine the Body to motion, to rest or to anything else (if there is anything else).

[10] Dem.: All modes of thinking have God for a cause, insofar as he is a thinking thing, and not insofar as he is explained by another attribute (by IIP6). So what determines the Mind to thinking is a mode of thinking and not of Extension, i.e. (by IID1), it is not the Body. This was the first point.

[15] Next, the motion and rest of the Body must arise from another body, which has also been determined to motion or rest by another; and absolutely, whatever arises in the body must have arisen from God insofar as he is considered to be affected by some mode of Extension, and not insofar as he is considered to be affected by some mode of thinking (also by IIP6), i.e., it cannot arise from the Mind, [20] which (by IIP11) is a mode of thinking. This was the second point. Therefore, the Body cannot determine the Mind, etc., q.e.d.

Schol.: These things are more clearly understood from what is said in IIP7S, viz. that the Mind and the Body are one and the same thing, [25] which is conceived now under the attribute of Thought, now under the attribute of Extension. The result is that the order, or connection, of things is one, whether nature is conceived under this attribute or that; hence the order of actions and passions of our Body is, by nature, at one with the order of actions and passions of the Mind. This is also [30] evident from the way in which we have demonstrated IIP12.

But although these things are such that no reason for doubt remains, [II/142] still, I hardly believe that men can be induced to consider them fairly unless I confirm them by experience. They are so firmly persuaded that the Body now moves, now is at rest, solely from the Mind’s command, and that it does a great many things which depend only on the Mind’s will and its art of thinking.

[5] For indeed, no one has yet determined what the Body can do, i.e., experience has not yet taught anyone what the Body can do from the laws of nature alone, insofar as nature is only considered to be corporeal, and what the body can do only if it is determined by the Mind. For no one has yet come to know the structure of the Body so accurately that he could explain all its functions8—not to mention that [10] many things are observed in the lower Animals that far surpass human ingenuity, and that sleepwalkers do a great many things in their sleep that they would not dare to awake. This shows well enough that the Body itself, simply from the laws of its own nature, can do many things which its Mind wonders at.

Again, no one knows how, or by what means, the Mind moves the [15] body, nor how many degrees of motion it can give the body, nor with what speed it can move it. So it follows that when men say that this or that action of the Body arises from the Mind, which has dominion over the Body, they do not know what they are saying, and they do nothing but confess, in fine-sounding words, that they are ignorant of [20] the true cause of that action, and that they do not wonder at it.

But they will say [i] that—whether or not they know by what means the Mind moves the Body—they still know by experience that unless the human Mind were capable of thinking, the Body would be inactive.9 And then [ii], they know by experience, that it is in the Mind’s power alone both to speak and to be silent,10 and to do many other [25] things which they therefore believe depend on the Mind’s decision.

[i] As far as the first [objection] is concerned, I ask them, does not experience also teach that if, on the other hand, the Body is inactive, the Mind is at the same time incapable of thinking? For when the Body is at rest in sleep, the Mind at the same time remains senseless with it, nor does it have the power of thinking, as it does when awake. [30] And then I believe everyone has found by experience that the Mind is not always equally capable of thinking of the same object, but that as the Body is more susceptible to having the image of this or that object aroused in it, so the Mind is more capable of regarding this or that object.

They will say, of course, that it cannot happen that the causes of [35] buildings, of paintings, and of things of this kind, which are made [II/143] only by human skill, should be able to be deduced from the laws of nature alone, insofar as it is considered to be only corporeal; nor would the human Body be able to build a temple, if it were not determined and guided by the Mind.

But I have already shown that they do not know what the Body can do, or what can be deduced from the consideration of its nature alone, [5] and that they know from experience that a great many things happen from the laws of nature alone which they never would have believed could happen without the direction of the Mind—such as the things sleepwalkers do in their sleep, which they wonder at while they are awake.

I add here the very structure of the human Body, which, in the ingenuity of its construction, far surpasses anything made by human [10] skill—not to mention that I have shown above, that infinitely many things follow from nature, under whatever attribute it may be considered.

[ii] As for the second [objection], human affairs, of course, would be conducted far more happily if it were equally in man’s power to be silent and to speak. But experience teaches all too plainly that men [15] have nothing less in their power than their tongue, and can do nothing less than moderate their appetites.

That is why most men believe that we do freely only those things we have a weak inclination toward (because the appetite for these things can easily be reduced by the memory of another thing which we frequently recollect), but that we do not at all do freely those things we [20] seek by a strong affect, which cannot be calmed by the memory of another thing. But if they had not found by experience that we do many things we afterwards repent, and that often we see the better and follow the worse (viz. when we are torn by contrary affects), nothing would prevent them from believing that we do all things freely.

So the infant believes he freely wants the milk; the angry child that [25] he wants vengeance; and the timid, flight. So the drunk believes it is from a free decision of the Mind that he speaks the things he later, when sober, wishes he had not said. So the madman, the chatterbox, the child, and a great many people of this kind believe they speak from a free decision of the Mind, when really they cannot contain their impulse to speak.

[30] So experience itself, no less clearly than reason, teaches that men believe themselves free because they are conscious of their own actions, and ignorant of the causes by which they are determined, that the decisions of the Mind are nothing but the appetites themselves, which therefore vary as the disposition of the Body varies. For each [35] one governs everything from his affect; those who are torn by contrary [II/144] affects do not know what they want, and those who are not moved by any affect are very easily driven here and there.11

All these things, indeed, show clearly that both the decision of the Mind and the appetite and the determination of the Body by nature exist together—or rather are one and the same thing, which we call a [5] decision when it is considered under, and explained through, the attribute of Thought, and which we call a determination when it is considered under the attribute of Extension and deduced from the laws of motion and rest. This will be still more clearly evident from what must presently be said.

For there is something else I wish particularly to note here, that we [10] can do nothing from a decision of the Mind unless we recollect it. E.g., we cannot speak a word unless we recollect it. And it is not in the free power of the Mind to either recollect a thing or forget it.12 So this only is believed to be in the power of the Mind—that from the Mind’s decision alone we can either be silent about or speak about a thing we recollect.

[15] But when we dream that we speak, we believe that we speak from a free decision of the Mind—and yet we do not speak, or, if we do, it is from a spontaneous motion of the Body. And we dream that we conceal certain things from men, and this by the same decision of the Mind by which, while we wake, we are silent about the things we [20] know. We dream, finally, that, from a decision of the Mind, we do certain things we do not dare to do while we wake.

So I should very much like to know whether there are in the Mind two kinds of decisions—those belonging to our fantasies and those that are free? And if we do not want to go that far in our madness, it must be granted that this decision of the Mind which is believed to be free [25] is not distinguished by the imagination itself, or the memory, nor is it anything beyond that affirmation which the idea, insofar as it is an idea, necessarily involves (see IIP49). And so these decisions of the Mind arise by the same necessity as the ideas of things that actually exist. Those, therefore, who believe that they either speak or are silent, or do anything from a free decision of the Mind, dream with [30] open eyes.

P3: The actions of the Mind arise from adequate ideas alone; the passions depend on inadequate ideas alone.

[II/145] Dem.: The first thing that constitutes the essence of the Mind is nothing but the idea of an actually existing Body (by IIP11 and P13); this idea (by IIP15) is composed of many others, of which some are [5] adequate (IIP38C), and others inadequate (by IIP29C). Therefore, whatever follows from the nature of the Mind and has the Mind as its proximate cause, through which it must be understood, must necessarily follow from an adequate idea or an inadequate one. But insofar as the Mind has inadequate ideas (by P1), it necessarily is acted on. [10] Therefore, the actions of the Mind follow from adequate ideas alone; hence, the Mind is acted on only because it has inadequate ideas, q.e.d.

Schol.: We see, then, that the passions are not related to the Mind [15] except insofar as it has something which involves a negation, or insofar as it is considered as a part of nature which cannot be perceived clearly and distinctly through itself, without the others. In this way I could show that the passions are related to singular things in the same way as to the Mind,13 and cannot be perceived in any other way. But my [20] purpose is only to treat of the human Mind.

P4: No thing can be destroyed except through an external cause.

Dem.: This Proposition is evident through itself. For the definition [25] of any thing affirms, and does not deny, the thing’s essence, or it posits the thing’s essence, and does not take it away. So while we attend only to the thing itself, and not to external causes, we shall not be able to find anything in it which can destroy it, q.e.d.

[30] P5: Things14 are of a contrary nature, i.e., cannot be in the same subject, insofar as one can destroy the other.

[II/146] Dem.: For if they could agree with one another, or be in the same subject at once, then there could be something in the same subject which could destroy it, which (by P4) is absurd. Therefore, things [5] etc., q.e.d.

P6: Each thing, as far as it can by its own power,15 strives to persevere in its being.

[10] Dem.: For singular things are modes by which God’s attributes are expressed in a certain and determinate way (by IP25C), i.e. (by IP34), things that express, in a certain and determinate way, God’s power, by which God is and acts. And no thing has anything in itself by [15] which it can be destroyed, or which takes its existence away (by P4). On the contrary, it is opposed to everything which can take its existence away (by P5). Therefore, as far as it can, and it lies in itself, it strives to persevere in its being, q.e.d.

[20] P7: The striving by which each thing strives to persevere in its being is nothing but the actual essence of the thing.

Dem.: From the given essence of each thing some things necessarily follow (by IP36), and things are able [to produce] nothing but what [25] follows necessarily from their determinate nature (by IP29). So the power of each thing, or the striving by which it (either alone or with others) does anything, or strives to do anything—i.e. (by P6), the power, or striving, by which it strives to persevere in its being, is nothing but the given, or actual, essence of the thing itself, q.e.d.

[II/147] P8: The striving by which each thing strives to persevere in its being involves no finite time, but an indefinite time.

[5] Dem.: For if [the striving by which a thing strives to persevere in its being] involved a limited time, which determined the thing’s duration, then it would follow just from that very power by which the thing exists that it could not exist after that limited time, but that it would have to be destroyed. But (by P4) this is absurd. Therefore, the striving by which a thing exists involves no definite time. On the [10] contrary, since (by P4) it will always continue to exist by the same power by which it now exists, unless it is destroyed by an external cause, this striving involves indefinite time, q.e.d.

[15] P9: Both insofar as the Mind has clear and distinct ideas, and insofar as it has confused ideas, it strives, for an indefinite duration, to persevere in its being and it is conscious of this striving it has.

Dem.: The essence of the Mind is constituted by adequate and by [20] inadequate ideas (as we have shown in P3). So (by P7) it strives to persevere in its being both insofar as it has inadequate ideas and insofar as it has adequate ideas; and it does this (by P8) for an indefinite duration. But since the Mind (by IIP23) is necessarily conscious of itself through ideas of the Body’s affections, the Mind (by P7) is conscious [25] of its striving, q.e.d.

Schol.: When this striving is related only to the Mind, it is called Will; but when it is related to the Mind and Body together, it is called Appetite. This Appetite, therefore, is nothing but the very essence of [30] man, from whose nature there necessarily follow those things that promote his preservation. And so man is determined to do those things.

[II/148] Between appetite and desire there is no difference, except that desire is generally related to men insofar as they are conscious of their appetite. So desire can be defined as appetite together with consciousness of the appetite.

[5] From all this, then, it is clear that we neither strive for, nor will, neither want, nor desire anything because we judge it to be good; on the contrary, we judge something to be good because we strive for it, will it, want it, and desire it.16

[10] P10: An idea that excludes the existence of our Body cannot be in our Mind, but is contrary to it.

Dem.: Whatever can destroy our Body cannot be in it (by P5), and [15] so the idea of this thing cannot be in God insofar as he has the idea of our Body (by IIP9C), i.e. (by IIP11 and P13), the idea of this thing cannot be in our Mind. On the contrary, since (by IIP11 and P13) the first thing that constitutes the essence of the Mind is the idea of an actually existing Body, the first and principal [tendency] of the striving17 [20] of our Mind (by P7) is to affirm the existence of our Body. And so an idea that denies the existence of our Body is contrary to our Mind, etc., q.e.d.

P11: The idea of any thing that increases or diminishes, aids or restrains, our [25] Body’s power of acting, increases or diminishes, aids or restrains, our Mind’s power of thinking.

Dem.: This proposition is evident from IIP7, or also from IIP14.

[30] Schol.: We see, then, that the Mind can undergo great changes, and pass now to a greater, now to a lesser perfection. These passions, [II/149] indeed, explain to us the affects of Joy and Sadness. By Joy, therefore, I shall understand in what follows that passion by which the Mind passes to a greater perfection. And by Sadness, that passion by which it passes to a lesser perfection. The affect of Joy which is related to the Mind and Body at [5] once I call Pleasure or Cheerfulness, and that of Sadness, Pain or Melancholy.

But it should be noted [NS: here] that Pleasure and Pain are ascribed to a man when one part of him is affected more than the rest, whereas Cheerfulness and Melancholy are ascribed to him when all are equally affected.

[10] Next, I have explained in P9S what Desire is, and apart from these three I do not acknowledge any other primary affect.18 For I shall show in what follows that the rest arise from these three. But before I proceed further, I should like to explain P10 more fully here, so that it may be more clearly understood how one idea is contrary to another.

[15] In IIP17S we have shown that the idea which constitutes the essence of the Mind involves the existence of the Body so long as the Body itself exists. Next from what we have shown in IIP8C and its scholium, it follows that the present existence of our Mind depends [20] only on this, that the Mind involves the actual existence of the Body. Finally, we have shown that the power of the Mind by which it imagines things and recollects them also depends on this (see IIP17, P18, P18S), that it involves the actual existence of the Body.

From these things it follows that the present existence of the Mind [25] and its power of imagining are taken away as soon as the Mind ceases to affirm the present existence of the Body. But the cause of the Mind’s ceasing to affirm this existence of the Body cannot be the Mind itself (by P4), nor also that the Body ceases to exist. For (by IIP6) the cause of the Mind’s affirming the Body’s existence is not that the Body has [30] begun to exist. So by the same reasoning, it does not cease to affirm the Body’s existence because the Body ceases to exist, but (by IIP8)19 this [sc. ceasing to affirm the Body’s existence] arises from another idea which excludes the present existence of our body, and consequently of our Mind, and which is thus contrary to the idea that [35] constitutes our Mind’s essence.

[II/150] P12: The Mind, as far as it can, strives to imagine those things that increase or aid the Body’s power of acting.

[5] Dem.: So long as the human Body is affected with a mode that involves the nature of an external body, the human Mind will regard the same body as present (by IIP17) and consequently (by IIP7) so long as the human Mind regards some external body as present, i.e. [10] (by IIP17S), imagines it, the human Body is affected with a mode that involves the nature of that external body. Hence, so long as the Mind imagines those things that increase or aid our body’s power of acting, the Body is affected with modes that increase or aid its power of acting [15] (see Post. 1), and consequently (by P11) the Mind’s power of thinking is increased or aided. Therefore (by P6 or P9), the Mind, as far as it can, strives to imagine those things, q.e.d.

[20] P13: When the Mind imagines those things that diminish or restrain the Body’s power of acting, it strives, as far as it can, to recollect things that exclude their existence.

Dem.: So long as the Mind imagines anything of this kind, the [25] power both of Mind and of Body is diminished or restrained (as we have demonstrated in P12); nevertheless, the Mind will continue to imagine this thing until it imagines something else that excludes the thing’s present existence (by IIP17), i.e. (as we have just shown), the power both of Mind and of Body is diminished or restrained until the [30] Mind imagines something else that excludes the existence of this thing; so the Mind (by P9), as far as it can, will strive to imagine or recollect that other thing, q.e.d.

[II/151] Cor.: From this it follows that the Mind avoids imagining those things that diminish or restrain its or the Body’s power.

[5] Schol.: From this we understand clearly what Love and Hate are. Love is nothing but Joy with the accompanying idea of an external cause, and Hate is nothing but Sadness with the accompanying idea of an external cause. We see, then, that one who loves necessarily strives to have present and preserve the thing he loves; and on the other hand, one [10] who hates strives to remove and destroy the thing he hates. But all of these things will be discussed more fully in what follows.

P14: If the Mind has once been affected by two affects at once, then afterwards, when it is affected by one of them, it will also be affected by the other.

[15] Dem.: If the human Body has once been affected by two bodies at once, then afterwards, when the Mind imagines one of them, it will immediately recollect the other also (by IIP18). But the imaginations of the Mind indicate the affects of our Body more than the nature of [20] external bodies (by IIP16C2). Therefore, if the Body, and consequently the Mind (see D3) has once been affected by two affects [NS: at once], then afterwards, when it is affected by one of them, it will also be affected by the other, q.e.d.

[25] P15: Any thing can be the accidental cause of Joy, Sadness, or Desire.

Dem.: Suppose the Mind is affected by two affects at once, one of which neither increases nor diminishes its power of acting, while the [30] other either increases it or diminishes it (see Post. 1). From P14 it is clear that when the Mind is afterwards affected with the former affect [II/152] as by its true cause,20 which (by hypothesis) through itself neither increases nor diminishes its power of thinking, it will immediately be affected with the latter also, which increases or diminishes its power of thinking, i.e. (by P11S), with Joy, or Sadness. And so the former [5] thing will be the cause of Joy or Sadness—not through itself, but accidentally. And in the same way it can easily be shown that that thing can be the accidental cause of Desire, q.e.d.

Cor.: From this alone—that we have regarded a thing with an affect [10] of Joy or Sadness, of which it is not itself the efficient cause, we can love it or hate it.

Dem.: For from this alone it comes about (by P14) that when the Mind afterwards imagines this thing, it is affected with an affect of [15] Joy or Sadness, i.e. (by P11S), that the power both of the Mind and of the Body is increased or diminished. And consequently (by P12), the Mind desires to imagine the thing or (by P13C) avoids it, i.e. (by P13S), it loves it or hates it, q.e.d.

[20] Schol.: From this we understand how it can happen that we love or hate some things without any cause known to us, but only (as they say) from Sympathy or Antipathy. And to this must be related also those objects that affect us with Joy or Sadness only because they have [25] some likeness to objects that usually affect us with these affects, as I shall show in P16. I know, of course, that the Authors who first introduced the words Sympathy and Antipathy intended to signify by them certain qualities of things. Nevertheless, I believe we may be permitted to understand by them also qualities that are known or manifest. [30]

P16: From the mere fact that we imagine a thing to have some likeness to an object that usually affects the Mind with Joy or Sadness, we love it or hate it, [II/153] even though that in which the thing is like the object is not the efficient cause of these affects.

[5] Dem.: What is like the object, we have (by hypothesis) regarded in the object itself with an affect of Joy or Sadness. And so (by P14), when the Mind is affected by its image, it will immediately be affected also with this or that affect. Consequently the thing we perceive to have this same [quality] will (by P15) be the accidental cause of Joy or [10] Sadness; and so (by P15C) although that in which it is like the object is not the efficient cause of these affects, we shall still love it or hate it, q.e.d.

P17: If we imagine that a thing which usually affects us with an affect of [15] Sadness is like another which usually affects us with an equally great affect of Joy, we shall hate it and at the same time love it.

Dem.: For (by hypothesis) this thing is through itself the cause of [20] Sadness, and (by P13S) insofar as we imagine it with this affect, we hate it. And moreover, insofar as it has some likeness to the other thing, which usually affects us with an equally great affect of Joy, we shall love it with an equally great striving of Joy (by P16). And so we shall both hate it and at the same time love it, q.e.d.

[25] Schol.: This constitution of the Mind which arises from two contrary affects is called vacillation of mind, which is therefore related to the affect as doubt is to the imagination (see IIP44S); nor do vacillation of mind and doubt differ from one another except in degree.

[30] But it should be noted that in the preceding Proposition I have deduced these vacillations of mind from causes which are the cause through themselves of one affect and the accidental cause of the other. I have done this because in this way they could more easily be deduced from what has gone before, not because I deny that vacillations [II/154] of mind for the most part arise from an object which is the efficient cause of each affect. For the human Body (by IIPost. 1) is composed of a great many individuals of different natures, and so (by IIA1″ [at II/99]), it can be affected in a great many different ways by one and [5] the same body. And on the other hand, because one and the same thing can be affected in many ways, it will also be able to affect one and the same part of the body in many different ways. From this we can easily conceive that one and the same object can be the cause of many and contrary affects.

[10] P18: Man is affected with the same affect of Joy or Sadness from the image of a past or future thing as from the image of a present thing.

Dem.: So long as a man is affected by the image of a thing, he will [15] regard the thing as present, even if it does not exist (by IIP17 and P17C); he imagines it as past or future only insofar as its image is joined to the image of a past or future time (see IIP44S). So the image of a thing, considered only in itself, is the same, whether it is related [20] to time past or future, or to the present, i.e. (by IIP16C2), the constitution of the Body, or affect, is the same, whether the image is of a thing past or future, or of a present thing. And so, the affect of Joy or Sadness is the same, whether the image is of a thing past or future, or of a present thing, q.e.d.

[25] Schol. I:21 I call a thing past or future here, insofar as we have been affected by it, or will be affected by it. E.g., insofar as we have seen it or will see it, insofar as it has refreshed us or will refresh us, has injured us or will injure us. For insofar as we imagine it in this way, we affirm its existence, i.e., the Body is not affected by any affect [30] that excludes the thing’s existence. And so (by IIP17) the Body is affected with the image of the thing in the same way as if the thing itself were present. However, because it generally happens that those who have experienced many things vacillate so long as they regard a [II/155] thing as future or past, and most often doubt the thing’s outcome (see IIP44S), the affects that arise from similar images22 of things are not so constant, but are generally disturbed by the images of other things, [5] until men become more certain of the thing’s outcome.

Schol. 2: From what has just been said, we understand what Hope and Fear, Confidence and Despair, Gladness and Remorse are. For Hope is nothing but an inconstant Joy which has arisen from the image of a [10] future or past thing whose outcome we doubt; Fear, on the other hand, is an inconstant Sadness, which has also arisen from the image of a doubtful thing. Next, if the doubt involved in these affects is removed, Hope becomes Confidence, and Fear, Despair—viz. a Joy or Sadness which has arisen from the image of a thing we feared or hoped for. Finally, Gladness is [15] a Joy which has arisen from the image of a past thing whose outcome we doubted, while Remorse is a sadness which is opposite to Gladness.

P19: He who imagines that what he loves is destroyed will be saddened; but he who imagines it to be preserved, will rejoice.

[20] Dem.: Insofar as it can, the Mind strives to imagine those things that increase or aid the Body’s power of acting (by P12), i.e. (by P13S), those it loves. But the imagination is aided by what posits the existence of a thing, and on the other hand, is restrained by what excludes [25] the existence of a thing (by IIP17). Therefore, the images of things that posit the existence of a thing loved aid the Mind’s striving to imagine the thing loved, i.e. (by P11S), affect the Mind with Joy. On the other hand, those which exclude the existence of a thing loved, restrain the same striving of the Mind, i.e. (by P11S), affect the Mind [30] with Sadness. Therefore, he who imagines that what he loves is destroyed will be saddened, etc., q.e.d.

[II/156] P20: He who imagines that what he hates is destroyed will rejoice.

Dem.: The Mind (by P13) strives to imagine those things that exclude [5] the existence of things by which the Body’s power of acting is diminished or restrained, i.e. (by P13S), strives to imagine those things that exclude the existence of things it hates. So the image of a thing that excludes the existence of what the Mind hates aids this striving [10] of the Mind, i.e. (by P11S), affects the Mind with Joy. Therefore, he who imagines that what he hates is destroyed will rejoice, q.e.d.

P21: He who imagines what he loves to be affected with Joy or Sadness will [15] also be affected with Joy or Sadness; and each of those affects will be greater or lesser in the lover as they are greater or lesser in the thing loved.

Dem.: The images of things (as we have demonstrated in P19) which posit the existence of a thing loved aid the striving by which the Mind [20] strives to imagine the thing loved. But Joy posits the existence of the joyous thing, and posits more existence, the greater the affect of Joy is. For (by P11S) it is a transition to a greater perfection. Therefore, the image in the lover of the loved thing’s Joy aids his Mind’s striving, i.e. (by P11S), affects the lover with Joy, and the more so, the greater [25] this affect was in the thing loved. This was the first thing to be proved.

Next, insofar as a thing is affected with Sadness, it is destroyed, and the more so, the greater the Sadness with which it is affected (by P11S). So (by P19) he who imagines what he loves to be affected with Sadness, will also be affected with Sadness, and the more so, the [30] greater this affect was in the thing loved, q.e.d.

[II/157] P22: If we imagine someone to affect with Joy a thing we love, we shall be affected with Love toward him. If, on the other hand, we imagine him to affect [5] the same thing with Sadness, we shall also be affected with Hate toward him.

Dem.: He who affects a thing we love with Joy or Sadness affects us also with Joy or Sadness, if we imagine that the thing loved is [10] affected by that Joy or Sadness (by P21). But this Joy or Sadness is supposed to be accompanied in us by the idea of an external cause. Therefore (by P13S), if we imagine that someone affects with Joy or Sadness a thing we love, we shall be affected with Love or Hate toward him, q.e.d.

[15] Schol.: P21 explains to us what Pity is, which we can define as Sadness that has arisen from injury to another. By what name we should call the Joy that arises from another’s good I do not know. Next, Love toward him who has done good to another we shall call Favor, and Hatred toward him who has done evil to another we shall call Indignation.

[20] Finally, it should be noted that we do not pity only a thing we have loved (as we have shown in P21), but also one toward which we have previously had no affect, provided that we judge it to be like us (as I shall show below). And so also we favor him who has benefited someone [25] like us, and are indignant at him who has injured one like us.

P23: He who imagines what he hates to be affected with Sadness will rejoice; if, on the other hand, he should imagine it to be affected with Joy, he will be saddened. And both these affects will be the greater or lesser, as its contrary is [30] greater or lesser in what he hates.

[II/158] Dem.: Insofar as a hateful thing is affected with Sadness, it is destroyed, and the more so, the greater the Sadness by which it is affected (by P11S). Therefore (by P20), he who imagines a thing he hates to be affected with Sadness will on the contrary be affected with [5] Joy, and the more so, the greater the Sadness with which he imagines the hateful thing to have been affected. This was the first point.

Next, Joy posits the existence of the joyous thing (by P11S), and the more so, the greater the Joy is conceived to be. [Therefore] if someone imagines him whom he hates to be affected with Joy, this [10] imagination (by P13) will restrain his striving, i.e. (by P11S), he who hates will be affected with Sadness, etc., q.e.d.

Schol.: This Joy can hardly be enduring and without any conflict [15] of mind. For (as I shall show immediately in P27) insofar as one imagines a thing like oneself to be affected with an affect of Sadness, one must be saddened. And the opposite, if one imagines the same thing to be affected with Joy. But here we attend only to Hate.

[20] P24: If we imagine someone to affect with Joy a thing we hate, we shall be affected with Hate toward him also. On the other hand, if we imagine him to affect the same thing with Sadness, we shall be affected with Love toward him.

[25] Dem.: This proposition is demonstrated in the same way as P22.

Schol.: These and similar affects of Hate are related to Envy which, therefore, is nothing but Hate, insofar as it is considered so to dispose a man [30] that he is glad at another’s ill fortune and saddened by his good fortune.

[II/159] P25: We strive to affirm, concerning ourselves and what we love, whatever we imagine to affect with Joy ourselves or what we love. On the other hand, we strive to deny whatever we imagine affects with Sadness ourselves or what [5] we love.

Dem.: Whatever we imagine to affect what we love with Joy or Sadness, affects us with Joy or Sadness (by P21). But the Mind (by P12) strives as far as it can to imagine those things which affect us [10] with Joy, i.e. (by IIP17) and P17C), to regard them as present; and on the other hand (by P13) it strives to exclude the existence of those things which affect us with Sadness. Therefore, we strive to affirm, concerning ourselves and what we love, whatever we imagine to affect with Joy ourselves or what we love, and conversely, q.e.d.

[15] P26: We strive to affirm, concerning what we hate, whatever we imagine to affect it with Sadness, and on the other hand to deny whatever we imagine to affect it with Joy.

Dem.: This proposition follows from P23, as P25 follows from P21.

[20] Schol.: From these propositions we see that it easily happens that a man thinks more highly of himself and what he loves than is just, and on the other hand, thinks less highly than is just of what he hates. [25] When this imagination concerns the man himself who thinks more highly of himself than is just, it is called Pride, and is a species of Madness, because the man dreams, with open eyes, that he can do all those things which he achieves only in his imagination, and which he therefore regards as real and triumphs in, so long as he cannot imagine those things which exclude the existence [of these achievements] and [30] determine his power of acting.

Pride, therefore, is Joy born of the fact that a man thinks more highly of [II/160] himself than is just. And the Joy born of the fact that a man thinks more highly of another than is just is called Overestimation, while that which stems from thinking less highly of another than is just is called Scorn.23

[5] P27: If we imagine a thing like us, toward which we have had no affect, to be affected with some affect, we are thereby affected with a like affect.

Dem.: The images of things are affections of the human Body whose [10] ideas represent external bodies as present to us (by IIP17S), i.e. (by IIP16), whose ideas involve the nature of our Body and at the same time the present nature of the external body. So if the nature of the external body is like the nature of our Body, then the idea of the [15] external body we imagine will involve an affection of our Body like the affection of the external body. Consequently, if we imagine someone like us to be affected with some affect, this imagination will express an affection of our Body like this affect.24 And so, from the fact that we imagine a thing like us to be affected with an affect, we are [20] affected with a like affect. But if we hate a thing like us, then (by P23) we shall be affected with an affect contrary to its affect, not like it,25 q.e.d.

Schol.: This imitation of the affects, when it is related to Sadness [25] is called Pity (on which, see P22S); but related to Desire it is called Emulation, which, therefore, is nothing but the Desire for a thing which is generated in us from the fact that we imagine others like us to have the same Desire.

[30] Cor. 1: If we imagine that someone toward whom we have had no affect affects a thing like us with Joy, we shall be affected with Love toward him. On the other hand, if we imagine him to affect it with Sadness, we shall be affected with Hate toward him.

[II/161] Dem.: This is demonstrated from P27 in the same way P22 is demonstrated from P21.

[5] Cor. 2: We cannot hate a thing we pity from the fact that its suffering affects us with Sadness.

Dem.: For if we could hate it because of that, then (by P23) we [10] would rejoice in its Sadness, which is contrary to the hypothesis.

Cor. 3: As far as we can, we strive to free a thing we pity from its suffering.

[15] Dem.: Whatever affects with Sadness what we pity, affects us also with a like Sadness (by P27). And so (by P13) we shall strive to think of whatever can take away the thing’s existence, or destroy the thing, i.e. (by P9S), we shall want to destroy it, or shall be determined to [20] destroy it. And so we strive to free the thing we pity from its suffering, q.e.d.

Schol.: This will, or appetite to do good, born of our pity for the [25] thing on which we wish to confer a benefit, is called Benevolence, which is therefore nothing but a Desire born of pity. As for Love and Hate toward him who has done well or ill to a thing we imagine to be like us, see P22S.

[30] P28: We strive to further the occurrence of whatever we imagine will lead to Joy, and to avert or destroy what we imagine is contrary to it, or will lead to Sadness.

[II/162] Dem.: We strive to imagine, as far as we can, what we imagine will lead to Joy (by P12), i.e. (by IIP17), we strive, as far as we can, to [5] regard it as present, or as actually existing. But the Mind’s striving, or power of thinking, is equal to and at one in nature with the Body’s striving, or power of acting (as clearly follows from IIP7C and P11C). Therefore, we strive absolutely, or (what, by P9S, is the same) want and intend that it should exist. This was the first point.

[10] Next, if we imagine that what we believe to be the cause of Sadness, i.e. (by P13S), what we hate, is destroyed, we shall rejoice (by P20), and so (by the first part of this [NS: proposition]) we shall strive to destroy it, or (by P13) to avert it from ourselves, so that we shall not regard it as present. This was the second point. Therefore, [we strive [15] to further the occurrence of] whatever we imagine will lead to Joy, etc., q.e.d.

P29: We shall strive to do also whatever we imagine mena to look on with Joy, and on the other hand, we shall be averse to doing what we imagine men are averse to.

[20] Dem.: From the fact that we imagine men to love or hate something, we shall love or hate it (by P27), i.e. (by P13S), we shall thereby rejoice in or be saddened by the thing’s presence. And so (by P28) we shall strive to do whatever we imagine men to love, or to look on with Joy, etc., q.e.d.

Schol.:26 This striving to do something (and also to omit doing something) solely to please men is called Ambition, especially when we strive so eagerly [30] to please the people that we do or omit certain things to our own injury, or another’s. In other cases, it is usually called human [II/163] kindness. Next, the Joy with which we imagine the action of another by which he has striven to please us I call Praise. On the other hand, the Sadness with which we are averse to his action I call Blame.

[5] P30: If someone has done something which he imagines affects others with Joy, he will be affected with Joy accompanied by the idea of himself as cause, or he will regard himself with Joy. If, on the other hand, he has done something which he imagines affects others with Sadness, he will regard himself with Sadness.

[10] Dem.: He who imagines that he affects others with Joy or Sadness will thereby (by P27) be affected with Joy or Sadness. But since man (by IIP19 and P23) is conscious of himself through the affections by which he is determined to act, then he who has done something which [15] he imagines affects others with Joy will be affected with Joy, together with a consciousness of himself as the cause, or, he will regard himself with Joy, and the converse, q.e.d.

Schol.: Since Love (by P13S) is Joy, accompanied by the idea of an [20] external cause, and Hate is Sadness, accompanied also by the idea of an external cause, this Joy and Sadness are species of Love and Hate. But because Love and Hate are related to external objects, we shall signify these affects by other names. Joy accompanied by the idea of an internal27 cause, we shall call love of esteem, and the Sadness contrary to it, [25] Shame—I mean when the Joy or Sadness arise from the fact that the man believes that he is praised or blamed. Otherwise, I shall call Joy accompanied by the idea of an internal cause, Self-esteem, and the Sadness contrary to it, Repentance.

[30] Next, because (by IIP17C) it can happen that the Joy with which someone imagines that he affects others is only imaginary, and (by P25) everyone strives to imagine concerning himself whatever he [II/164] imagines affects himself with Joy, it can easily happen that one who exults at being esteemed is proud and imagines himself to be pleasing to all, when he is burdensome to all.

[P31]: If we imagine that someone loves, desires or hates something we ourselves [5] love, desire, or hate, we shall thereby love, desire or hate it with greater constancy. But if we imagine that he is averse to what we love, or the opposite [NS: that he loves what we hate], then we shall undergo vacillation of mind.

[10] Dem.: Simply because we imagine that someone loves something, we thereby love the same thing (by P27). But we suppose that we already love it without this [cause of love]; so there is added to the Love a new cause, by which it is further encouraged. As a result, we shall love what we love with greater constancy.

Next, from the fact that we imagine someone to be averse to something, [15] we shall be averse to it (by P27). But if we suppose that at the same time we love it, then at the same time we shall both love and be averse to the same thing, or (see P17S) we shall undergo vacillation of mind, q.e.d.

[20] Cor.: From this and from P28 it follows that each of us strives, so far as he can, that everyone should love what he loves, and hate what he hates. Hence that passage of the poet:

Speremus pariter, pariter metuamus amantes;

Ferreus est, si quis, quod sink alter, amat.28

[25] Schol.: This striving to bring it about that everyone should approve his love and hate is really Ambition (see P29S). And so we see that each of us, by his nature, wants the others to live according to his temperament; when all alike want this, they are alike an obstacle to [30] one another, and when all wish to be praised, or loved, by all, they hate one another.

[II/165] P32: If we imagine that someone enjoys some thing that only one can possess, we shall strive to bring it about that he does not possess it.

[5] Dem.: From the mere fact that we imagine someone to enjoy something (by P27 and P27C1), we shall love that thing and desire to enjoy it. But (by hypothesis) we imagine his enjoyment of this thing as an obstacle to our Joy. Therefore (by P28), we shall strive that he not possess it, q.e.d.

[10] Schol.: We see, therefore, that for the most part human nature is so constituted that men pity the unfortunate and envy the fortunate, and (by P32) [envy them] with greater hate the more they love the thing they imagine the other to possess. We see, then, that from the [15] same property of human nature from which it follows that men are compassionate, it also follows that the same men are envious and ambitious.

Finally, if we wish to consult experience, we shall find that it teaches all these things, especially if we attend to the first years of our lives. For we find from experience that children, because their bodies are [20] continually, as it were, in a state of equilibrium, laugh or cry simply because they see others laugh or cry. Moreover, whatever they see others do, they immediately desire to imitate it. And finally, they desire for themselves all those things by which they imagine others are pleased—because, as we have said, the images of things are the [25] very affections of the human Body, or modes by which the human Body is affected by external causes, and disposed to do this or that.

[P33]: When we love a thing like ourselves, we strive, as far as we can, to bring it about that it loves us in return.

[30] Dem.: As far as we can, we strive to imagine, above all others, the thing we love (by P12). Therefore, if a thing is like us, we shall strive [II/166] to affect it with Joy above all others (by P29), or we shall strive, as far as we can, to bring it about that the thing we love is affected with Joy, accompanied by the idea of ourselves [as cause], i.e. (by P13S), that it loves us in return, q.e.d.

[5] P34: The greater the affect with which we imagine a thing we love to be affected toward us, the more we shall exult at being esteemed.

Dem.: We strive (by P33), as far as we can, that a thing we love [10] should love us in return, i.e. (by P13S), that a thing we love should be affected with Joy, accompanied by the idea of ourselves [as cause]. So the greater the Joy with which we imagine a thing we love to be affected on our account, the more this striving is aided, i.e. (by P11 and P11S), the greater the Joy with which we are affected. But when [15] we rejoice because we have affected another, like us, with Joy, then we regard ourselves with Joy (by P30). Therefore, the greater the affect with which we imagine a thing we love to be affected toward us, the greater the Joy with which we shall regard ourselves, or (by P30S) the more we shall exult at being esteemed, q.e.d.

[20] P35: If someone imagines that a thing he loves is united with another by as close, or by a closer, bond of Friendship than that with which he himself, alone, possessed the thing, he will be affected with Hate toward the thing he loves, and will envy the other.

[25] Dem.: The greater the love with which someone imagines a thing he loves to be affected toward him, the more he will exalt at being esteemed (by P34), i.e. (by P30S), the more he will rejoice. And so (by P28) he will strive, as far as he can, to imagine the thing he loves [30] to be bound to him as closely as possible. This striving, or appetite, is encouraged if he imagines another to desire the same thing he does [II/167] (by P31). But this striving, or appetite, is supposed to be restrained by the image of the thing he loves, accompanied by the image of him with whom the thing he loves is united. So (by P11S) he will thereby be affected with Sadness, accompanied by the idea of the thing he [5] loves as a cause, together with the image of the other; i.e. (by P13S), he will be affected with hate toward the thing he loves, and, at the same time, toward the other (by P15C), whom he will envy because of the pleasure the other takes in the thing he loves (by P23), q.e.d.

[10] Schol.: This Hatred toward a thing we love, combined with Envy, is called Jealousy, which is therefore nothing but a vacillation of mind born of Love and Hatred together, accompanied by the idea of another who is envied. Moreover, this hatred toward the thing he loves will be greater in proportion to the Joy with which the Jealous man was usually affected from the Love returned to him by the thing he loves, and also [15] in proportion to the affect with which he was affected toward him with whom he imagines the thing he loves to unite itself. For if he hates him, he will thereby hate the thing he loves (by P24), because he imagines that what he loves affects with Joy what he hates, and also (by P15C) because he is forced to join the image of the thing he [20] loves to the image of him he hates.

This latter reason is found, for the most part, in Love toward a woman. For he who imagines that a woman he loves prostitutes herself to another not only will be saddened, because his own appetite is restrained, but also will be repelled by her, because he is forced to join the image of the thing he loves to the shameful parts and excretions [25] of the other. To this, finally, is added the fact that she no longer receives the Jealous man with the same countenance as she used to offer him. From this cause, too, the lover is saddened, as I shall show.

P36: He who recollects a thing by which he was once pleased desires to possess [30] it in the same circumstances as when he first was pleased by it.

Dem.: Whatever a man sees together with a thing that pleased him (by P15) will be the accidental cause of Joy. And so (by P28) he will [II/168] desire to possess it all, together with the thing that pleased him, or he will desire to possess the thing with all the same circumstances as when he first was pleased by it, q.e.d.

[5] Cor.: Therefore, if the lover has found that one of those circumstances is lacking, he will be saddened.

Dem.: For insofar as he finds that a circumstance is lacking, he imagines something that excludes the existence of this thing. But since, [10] from love, he desires this thing, or circumstance (by P36), then insofar as he imagines it to be lacking, he will be saddened, q.e.d.

Schol.: This Sadness, insofar as it concerns the absence of what we [15] love, is called Longing.

[P37]: The Desire that arises from Sadness or Joy, and from Hatred or Love, is greater, the greater the affect is.

[20] Dem.: Sadness diminishes or restrains a man’s power of acting (by P11S), i.e. (by P7), diminishes or restrains the striving by which a man strives to persevere in his being; so it is contrary to this striving (by P5), and all a man affected by Sadness strives for is to remove [25] Sadness. But (by the definition of Sadness) the greater the Sadness, the greater is the part of the man’s power of acting to which it is necessarily opposed. Therefore, the greater the Sadness, the greater the power of acting with which the man will strive to remove the Sadness, i.e. (by P9S), the greater the desire, or appetite, with which he will strive to remove the Sadness.

[30] Next, since Joy (by the same P11S) increases or aids man’s power of acting, it is easily demonstrated in the same way that the man affected with Joy desires nothing but to preserve it, and does so with [II/169] the greater Desire, as the Joy is greater.

Finally, since Hate and Love are themselves affects of Sadness or of Joy, it follows in the same way that the striving, appetite, or Desire which arises from Hate or Love will be greater as the Hate and Love are greater, q.e.d.

[5] P38: If someone begins to hate a thing he has loved, so that the Love is completely destroyed, then (from an equal cause) he will have a greater hate for it than if he had never loved it, and this hate will be the greater as the Love before was greater.

[10] Dem.: For if someone begins to hate a thing he loves, more of his appetites will be restrained than if he had not loved it. For Love is a Joy (by P13S), which the man, as far as he can (by P28), strives to preserve; and (by the same scholium) he does this by regarding the [15] thing he loves as present, and by affecting it, as far as he can, with Joy (by P21). This striving (by P37) is greater as the love is greater, as is the striving to bring it about that the thing he loves loves him in return (see P33). But these strivings are restrained by hatred toward [20] the thing he loves (by P13C and P23); therefore, the lover (by P11S) will be affected with Sadness from this cause also, and the more so as his Love was greater. I.e., apart from the Sadness that was the cause of the Hate, another arises from the fact that he loved the thing. And consequently he will regard the thing he loved with a greater affect of [25] Sadness, i.e. (by P13S), he will have a greater hatred for it than if he had not loved it. And this hate will be the greater as the love was greater, q.e.d.

[P39]: He who Hates someone will strive to do evil to him, unless he fears that a greater evil to himself will arise from this; and on the other hand, he who [30] loves someone will strive to benefit him by the same law.

[II/170] Dem.: To hate someone (by P13S) is to imagine him as the cause of [NS: one’s] Sadness; and so (by P28), he who hates someone will [5] strive to remove or destroy him. But if from that he fears something sadder, or (what is the same) a greater evil to himself, and believes that he can avoid this sadness by not doing to the one he hates the evil he was contemplating, he will desire to abstain from doing evil (by the same P28)—and that (by P37) with a greater striving than that by which he was bound to do evil. So this greater striving will prevail, [10] as we maintained.

The second part of this demonstration proceeds in the same way. Therefore, he who hates someone, etc., q.e.d.

Schol.: By good here I understand every kind of Joy, and whatever leads to it, and especially what satisfies any kind of longing, whatever [15] that may be. And by evil [I understand here] every kind of Sadness, and especially what frustrates longing. For we have shown above (in P9S) that we desire nothing because we judge it to be good, but on the contrary, we call it good because we desire it. Consequently, what we are averse to we call evil.

[20] So each one, from his own affect, judges, or evaluates, what is good and what is bad, what is better and what is worse, and finally, what is best and what is worst. So the Greedy man judges an abundance of money best, and poverty worst. The Ambitious man desires nothing so much as Esteem and dreads nothing so much as Shame. To the [25] Envious nothing is more agreeable than another’s unhappiness, and nothing more burdensome than another’s happiness. And so, each one, from his own affect, judges a thing good or bad, useful or useless.

Further, this affect, by which a man is so disposed that he does not will what he wills, and wills what he does not will, is called Timidity, [30] which is therefore nothing but fear insofar as a man is disposed by it to avoid an evil he judges to be future by encountering a lesser evil (see P28). But if the evil he is timid toward is Shame, then the timidity is called a Sense of shame. Finally, if the desire to avoid a future evil is restrained by [II/171] Timidity regarding another evil, so that he does not know what he would rather do, then the Fear is called Consternation, particularly if each evil he fears is of the greatest.

[5] P40: He who imagines he is hated by someone, and believes he has given the other no cause for hate, will hate the other in return.

Dem.: He who imagines someone to be affected with hate will thereby also be affected with hate (by P27), i.e. (by P13S), with Sadness accompanied [10] by the idea of an external cause. But (by hypothesis) he imagines no cause of this Sadness except the one who hates him. So from imagining himself to be hated by someone, he will be affected with Sadness, accompanied by the idea of the one who hates him [as a cause of the sadness] or (by the same Scholium) he will hate the [15] other, q.e.d.

Schol. If he imagines he has given just cause for this hatred, he will be affected with Shame (by P30 and P30S). But this rarely happens (by P25). Moreover, this reciprocity of Hatred can also arise from the [20] fact that Hatred is followed by a striving to do evil to him who is hated (by P39). He, therefore, who imagines that someone hates him will imagine the other to be the cause of an evil, or Sadness. And so, he will be affected with Sadness, or Fear, accompanied by the idea of the one who hates him, as a cause. I.e., he will be affected with hate [25] in return, as above.

Cor. 1: He who imagines one he loves to be affected with hate toward him will be tormented by Love and Hate together. For insofar as he imagines that [the one he loves] hates him, he is determined to [30] hate [that person] in return (by P40). But (by hypothesis) he nevertheless loves him. So he will be tormented by Love and Hate together.

[II/172] Cor. 2: If someone imagines that someone else, toward whom he has previously had no affect, has, out of hatred, done him some evil, he will immediately strive to return the same evil.

[5] Dem.: He who imagines someone to be affected with Hate toward him, will hate him in return (by P40), and (by P26) will strive to think of everything that can affect [that person] with Sadness, and be eager [10] to bring it to him (by P39). But (by hypothesis) the first thing he imagines of this kind is the evil done him. So he will immediately strive to do the same to [that person], q.e.d.

Schol.: The striving to do evil to him we hate is called Anger; and the striving to return an evil done us is called Vengeance.

[15] P41: If someone imagines that someone loves him, and does not believe he has given any cause for this,b he will love [that person] in return.29

[20] Dem.: This Proposition is demonstrated in the same way as the preceding one. See also its scholium.

Schol.: But if he believes that he has given just cause for this Love, he will exult at being esteemed (by P30 and P30S). This, indeed, [25] happens rather frequently (by P25) and is the opposite of what we said happens when someone imagines that someone hates him (see P40S).

Next, this reciprocal Love, and consequent (by P39) striving to benefit one who loves us, and strives (by the same P39) to benefit us, is called Thankfulness, [30] or Gratitude.

And so it is evident that men are far more ready for Vengeance than for returning benefits.

[II/173] Cor.: He who imagines he is loved by one he hates will be torn by Hate and Love together. This is demonstrated in the same way as P40C1.

[5] Schol.: But if the Hate has prevailed, he will strive to do evil to the one who loves him. This affect is called Cruelty, especially if it is believed that the one who loves has given no ordinary cause for Hatred.

[10] P42: He who has benefited someone—whether moved to do so by Love or by the hope of Esteem—will be saddened if he sees his benefit accepted in an ungrateful spirit.

[15] Dem.: He who loves a thing like himself strives, as far as he can, to be loved by it in return (by P33). So he who has benefited someone from love does this from a longing by which he is bound that he may be loved in return—i.e. (by P34), from the hope of Esteem or (by [20] P30S) Joy; so (by P12) he will strive, as far as he can, to imagine this cause of Esteem, or to regard it as actually existing. But (by hypothesis) he imagines something else that excludes the existence of this cause. So (by P19) he will be saddened by this.

[26] P43: Hate is increased by being returned, but can be destroyed by Love.

Dem.: He who imagines one he hates to be affected with Hate toward him will feel a new Hate (by P40), while the first (by hypothesis) continues. If, on the other hand, he imagines that the one he [30] hates is affected with love toward him, then insofar as he imagines this, he regards himself with Joy (by P30) and will strive to please the [II/174] one he hates (by P29), i.e. (by P41), he strives not to hate him and not to affect him with Sadness. This striving (by P37) will be greater or lesser in proportion to the affect from which it arises. So if it is [5] greater than that which arises from hate, and by which he strives to affect the thing he hates with Sadness (by P26), then it will prevail over it and efface the Hate from his mind, q.e.d.

P44: Hate completely conquered by Love passes into Love, and the Love is [10] therefore greater than if Hate had not preceded it.

Dem.: The proof of this proceeds in the same way as that of P38. For he who begins to love a thing he has hated, or used to regard with Sadness, rejoices because he loves, and to this Joy which Love involves [15] (see its definition in P13S) there is also added a Joy arising from this—the striving to remove the Sadness hate involves (as we have shown in P37) is wholly aided by the accompaniment of the idea of the one he hated, [who is regarded] as a cause [of joy].

[20] Schol.: Although this is so, still, no one will strive to hate a thing, or to be affected with Sadness, in order to have this greater Joy, i.e., no one will desire to injure himself in the hope of recovering, or long to be sick in the hope of getting better. For each one will strive always [25] to preserve his being, and to put aside Sadness as far as he can. But if, on the contrary, one could conceive that a man could desire to hate someone, in order afterwards to have the greater love for him, then he would always desire to hate him. For as the Hate was greater, so [30] the Love would be greater, and so he would always desire his Hate to become greater and greater. And by the same cause, a man would strive to become more and more ill, so that afterwards he might have the greater joy from restoring his health; and so he would always strive to become ill, which (by P6) is absurd.

[II/175] P45: If someone imagines that someone like himself is affected with Hate toward a thing like himself which he loves, he will hate that [person].

[5] Dem.: For the thing he loves hates in return the one who hates it (by P40), and so the lover, who imagines that someone hates the thing he loves, thereby imagines the thing he loves to be affected with Hate, i.e. (by P13S), with Sadness. And consequently (by P21), he is saddened, [10] and his Sadness is accompanied by the idea of the one who hates the thing he loves—[this other being regarded] as the cause [of the Sadness]. I.e. (by P13S), he will hate him, q.e.d.

P46: If someone has been affected with Joy or Sadness by someone of a class, or nation, different from his own, and this Joy or Sadness is accompanied by the [15] idea of that person as its cause, under the universal name of the class or nation, he will love or hate, not only that person, but everyone of the same class or nation.

Dem.: The demonstration of this matter is evident from P16.

[20] P47: The Joy which arises from our imagining that a thing we hate is destroyed, or affected with some other evil, does not occur without some Sadness of mind.

[25] Dem.: This is evident from P27. For insofar as we imagine a thing like us to be affected with sadness, we are saddened.

Schol.: This Proposition can also be demonstrated from IIP17C. [II/176] For as often as we recollect a thing—even though it does not actually exist—we still regard it as present, and the Body is affected in the same way [NS: as if it were present]. So insofar as the memory of the thing is strong, the man is determined to regard it with Sadness. While the image of the thing still remains, this determination is, indeed, [5] restrained by the memory of those things that exclude its existence; but it is not taken away. And so the man rejoices only insofar as this determination is restrained.

So it happens that this Joy, which arises from the misfortune occurring to the thing we hate, is repeated as often as we recollect the [10] thing. For as we have said, when the image of this thing is aroused, because it involves the existence of the thing, it determines the man to regard the thing with the same Sadness as he used to before, when it existed. But because he has joined to the image of this thing other images that exclude its existence, this determination to Sadness is immediately [15] restrained, and the man rejoices anew. This happens as often as the repetition occurs.

This is also the cause of men’s rejoicing when they recall some evil now past, and why they enjoy telling of dangers from which they have been freed. For when they imagine a danger, they regard it as [20] future, and are determined to fear it. This determination is restrained anew by the idea of freedom, which they have joined to the idea of the danger, since they have been freed from it. This renders them safe again, and they rejoice again.

[25] P48: Love or Hate—say, of Peter—is destroyed if the Sadness the Hate involves, or the Joy the Love involves, is attached to the idea of another cause, and each is diminished to the extent that we imagine that Peter was not its only cause.

[30] Dem.: This is evident simply from the definitions of Love and Hate—see P13S. For this Joy is called Love of Peter, or this Sadness, Hatred of Peter, only because Peter is considered to be the cause of the one affect or the other. If this is taken away—either wholly or in part—the [II/177] affect toward Peter is also diminished, either wholly or in part, q.e.d.

[P49]: Given an equal cause of Love, Love toward a thing will be greater if we [5] imagine the thing to be free than if we imagine it to be necessary. And similarly for Hate.

Dem.: A thing we imagine to be free must be perceived through itself, without others (by ID7). So if we imagine it to be the cause of [10] Joy or Sadness, we shall thereby love or hate it (by P13S), and shall do so with the greatest Love or Hate that can arise from the given affect (by P48). But if we should imagine as necessary the thing that is the cause of this affect, then (by the same ID7) we shall imagine it [15] to be the cause of the affect, not alone, but with others. And so (by P48) our Love or Hate toward it will be less, q.e.d.

Schol.: From this it follows that because men consider themselves to be free, they have a greater Love or Hate toward one another than [20] toward other things. To this is added the imitation of the affects, on which see P27, 34, 40 and 43.

[P50]: Anything whatever can be the accidental cause of Hope or Fear.

[25] Dem.: This Proposition is demonstrated in the same way as P15. Consult it together with P18S2.30

Schol.: Things which are accidental causes of Hope or Fear are called good or bad omens. And insofar as these same omens are causes [30] of Hope or Fear, they are causes of Joy or Sadness31 (by the definitions [II/178] of hope and fear—see P18S2); consequently (by P15C), we love them or hate them, and strive (by P28) either to use them as means to the things we hope for, or to remove them as obstacles or causes of Fear.

[5] Furthermore, as follows from P25, we are so constituted by nature that we easily believe the things we hope for, but believe only with difficulty those we fear, and that we regard them more or less highly than is just. This is the source of the Superstitions by which men are everywhere troubled.

For the rest, I do not think it worth the trouble to show here the [10] vacillations of mind which stem from Hope and Fear—since it follows simply from the definition of these affects that there is no Hope without Fear, and no Fear without Hope (as we shall explain more fully in its place). Moreover, insofar as we hope for or fear something, we love it or hate it; so whatever we have said of Love and Hate, anyone [15] can easily apply to Hope and Fear.

P51: Different men can be affected differently by one and the same object; and one and the same man can be affected differently at different times by one and the same object.

[20] Dem.: The human Body (by IIPost. 3) is affected in a great many ways by external bodies. Therefore, two men can be differently affected at the same time, and so (by IIA1” [II/99]) they can be affected differently by one and the same object.

[25] Next (by the same Post.) the human Body can be affected now in this way, now in another. Consequently (by the same Axiom) it can be affected differently at different times by one and the same object, q.e.d.

[30] Schol.: We see, then, that it can happen that what the one loves, the other hates, what the one fears, the other does not, and that one and the same man may now love what before he hated, and now dare what before he was too timid for.

Next, because each one judges from his own affect what is good [II/179] and what is bad, what is better and what worse (see P39S) it follows that men can varyc as much in judgment as in affect. The result is that when we compare one with another, we distinguish them only by a difference of affects, and call some intrepid, others timid, and [5] others, finally, by another name.

For example, I shall call him intrepid who disdains an evil I usually fear. Moreover, if I attend to the fact that his desire to do evil to one he hates, and good to one he loves, is not restrained by timidity regarding an evil by which I am usually restrained, I shall call him [10] daring. Someone will seem timid to me if he is afraid of an evil I usually disdain. If, moreover, I attend to the fact that his Desire [to do evil to those he hates and good to those he loves] is restrained by timidity regarding an evil which cannot restrain me, I shall call him cowardly. In this way will everyone judge.

Finally, because of this inconstancy of man’s nature and judgment, [15] and also because he often judges things only from an affect,33 because the things which he believes will make for Joy or Sadness, and which he therefore strives to promote or prevent (by P28), are often only imaginary—not to mention the other conclusions we have reached in Part II about the uncertainty of things—we easily conceive that a man [20] can often be the cause both of his own Sadness and his own Joy, or that he is affected both with Joy and with Sadness, accompanied by the idea of himself as their cause. So we easily understand what Repentance and Self-esteem are: Repentance is Sadness accompanied by the idea of oneself as cause, and Self-esteem is Joy accompanied by the idea of oneself [25] as cause. Because men believe themselves free, these affects are very violent (see P49).

P52: If we have previously seen an object together with others, or we imagine [30] it has nothing but what is common to many things, we shall not consider it so long as one which we imagine to have something singular.

[II/180] Dem.: As soon as we imagine an object we have seen with others, we shall immediately recollect the others (by IIP18 & P18S), and so from considering one we immediately pass to considering the other. [5] And the reasoning is the same concerning the object we imagine to have nothing but what is common to many things. For imagining that is supposing that we consider nothing in it but what we have seen before with others.

But when we suppose that we imagine in an object something singular, [10] which we have never seen before, we are only saying that when the Mind considers that object, it has nothing in itself which it is led to consider from considering that. And so it is determined to consider only that. Therefore, if we have seen, etc., q.e.d.

[15] Schol.: This affection of the Mind, or this imagination of a singular thing,34 insofar as it is alone in the Mind, is called Wonder. But if it is aroused by an object we fear, it is called Consternation, because Wonder at an evil keeps a man so suspended in considering it that he cannot think of other things by which he could avoid that evil. But if what [20] we wonder at is a man’s prudence, diligence, or something else of that kind, because we consider him as far surpassing us in this, then the Wonder is called Veneration. Otherwise, if what we wonder at is the man’s anger, envy, etc., the wonder is called Dread.

Next, if we wonder at the prudence, diligence, etc., of a man we [25] love, the Love will thereby (by P12) be greater and this Love joined to Wonder, or Veneration, we call Devotion. In this way we can also conceive Hate, Hope, Confidence, and other Affects to be joined to Wonder, and so we can deduce more Affects than those which are usually [30] indicated by the accepted words. So it is clear that the names of the affects are found more from the ordinary usage [of words] than from an accurate knowledge [of the affects].35

To Wonder is opposed Disdain, the cause of which, however, is [II/181] generally this: because we see that someone wonders at, loves or fears something, or something appears at first glance like things we admire, love, fear, etc. (by P15, P15C, and P27), we are determined to wonder [5] at, love, fear, etc., the same thing; but if, from the thing’s presence, or from considering it more accurately, we are forced to deny it whatever can be the cause of Wonder, Love, Fear, etc., then the Mind remains determined by the thing’s presence to think more of the things that are not in the object than of those that are (though the object’s [10] presence usually determines [the Mind] to think chiefly of what is in the object).

Next, as Devotion stems from Wonder at a thing we love, so Mockery stems from Disdain for a thing we hate or fear, and Contempt from Disdain for folly, as Veneration stems from Wonder at prudence. Finally, [15] we can conceive Love, Hope, Love of Esteem, and other Affects joined to Disdain, and from that we can deduce in addition other Affects, which we also do not usually distinguish from the others by any single term.

P53: When the Mind considers itself and its power of acting, it rejoices, and [20] does so the more, the more distinctly it imagines itself and its power of acting.

Dem.: A man does not know himself except through affections of his Body and their ideas (by IIP19 and P23). So when it happens that [25] the Mind can consider itself, it is thereby supposed to pass to a greater perfection, i.e. (by P11S), to be affected with joy, and with greater joy the more distinctly it can imagine its power of acting, q.e.d.

[30] Cor.: This Joy is more and more encouraged the more the man imagines himself to be praised by others. For the more he imagines himself to be praised by others, the greater the Joy with which he [II/182] imagines himself to affect others, a Joy accompanied by the idea of himself (by P29S). And so (by P27) he himself is affected with a greater Joy, accompanied by the idea of himself, q.e.d.

[5] P54: The Mind strives to imagine only those things that posit its power of acting.

Dem.: The Mind’s striving, or power, is its very essence (by P7); but the Mind’s essence (as is known through itself) affirms only what [10] the Mind is and can do, not what it is not and cannot do. So it strives to imagine only what affirms, or posits, its power of acting, q.e.d.

[15] P55: When the Mind imagines its own lack of power, it is saddened by it.

Dem.: The Mind’s essence affirms only what the Mind is and can do, or it is of the nature of the Mind to imagine only those things that [20] posit its power of acting (by P54). So when we say that the Mind, in considering itself, imagines its lack of power, we are saying nothing but that the Mind’s striving to imagine something that posits its power of acting is restrained, or (by P11S) that it is saddened, q.e.d.

[25] Cor.: This Sadness is more and more encouraged if we imagine ourselves to be blamed by others. This is demonstrated in the same way as P53C.

[30] Schol.: This Sadness, accompanied by the idea of our own weakness is called Humility. But Joy arising from considering ourselves, is called Self-love [II/183] or Self-esteem. And since this is renewed as often as a man considers his virtues, or his power of acting, it also happens that everyone is anxious to tell his own deeds, and show off his powers, both of body [5] and of mind—and that men, for this reason, are troublesome to one another.

From this it follows, again, that men are by nature envious (see P24S and P32S), or are glad of their equals’ weakness and saddened by their equals’ virtue. For whenever anyone imagines his own actions, [10] he is affected with Joy (by P53), and with a greater Joy, the more his actions express perfection, and the more distinctly he imagines them, i.e. (by IIP40S1), the more he can distinguish them from others, and consider them as singular things. So everyone will have [15] the greatest gladness from considering himself, when he considers something in himself which he denies concerning others.

But if he relates what he affirms of himself to the universal idea of man or animal, he will not be so greatly gladdened. And on the other hand, if he imagines that his own actions are weaker, compared to others’ actions, he will be saddened (by P28), and will strive to put [20] aside this Sadness, either by wrongly interpreting his equals’ actions or by magnifying his own as much as he can. It is clear, therefore, that men are naturally inclined to Hate and Envy.

Education itself adds to natural inclination. For parents generally spur their children on to virtue only by the incentive of Honor and Envy.

[25] But perhaps this doubt remains—that not infrequently we admire and venerate men’s virtues. To remove this scruple, I shall add the following Corollary.

Cor.: No one envies another’s virtue unless he is an equal.

[30] Dem.: Envy is Hatred itself (see P24S), or (by P13S) a Sadness, i.e. (by P11S), an affection by which a man’s power of acting, or striving, is restrained. But a man (by P9S) neither strives to do, nor desires, anything unless it can follow from his given nature. So no man desires [II/184] that there be predicated of him any power of acting, or (what is the same) virtue, which is peculiar to another’s nature and alien to his own. Hence, his Desire is restrained, i.e. (by P11S), he cannot be saddened because he considers a virtue in someone unlike himself. [5] Consequently he also cannot envy him. But he can, indeed, envy his equal, who is supposed to be of the same nature as he, q.e.d.

Schol.: So when we said above (in P52S) that we venerate a man [10] because we wonder at his prudence, strength of character, etc., that happens (as is evident from the proposition itself) because we imagine these virtues to be peculiarly in him, and not as common to our nature. Therefore, we shall not envy him these virtues any more than we envy trees their height, or lions their strength.

[15] P56: There are as many species of Joy, Sadness, and Desire, and consequently of each affect composed of these (like vacillation of mind) or derived from them (like Love, Hate, Hope, Fear, etc.), as there are species of objects by which we [20] are affected.36

Dem.: Joy and Sadness—and consequently the affects composed of them or derived from them—are passions (by P11S). But we are necessarily [25] acted on (by P1) insofar as we have inadequate ideas, and only insofar as we have them (by P3) are we acted on, i.e. (see IIP40S), necessarily we are acted on only insofar as we imagine, or (see IIP17 and P17S) insofar as we are affected with an affect that involves both the nature of our Body and the nature of an external body. Therefore, [30] the nature of each passion must necessarily be so explained that the nature of the object by which we are affected is expressed.

For example, the Joy arising from A involves the nature of object [II/185] A, that arising from object B involves the nature of object B, and so these two affects of Joy are by nature different, because they arise from causes of a different nature. So also the affect of Sadness arising from one object is different in nature from the Sadness stemming from [5] another cause. The same must also be understood of Love, Hate, Hope, Fear, Vacillation of mind, etc.

Therefore, there are as many species of Joy, Sadness, Love, Hate, etc., as there are species of objects by which we are affected.

But Desire is the very essence, or nature, of each [man] insofar as it [10] is conceived to be determined, by whatever constitution he has, to do something (see P9S). Therefore, as each [man] is affected by external causes with this or that species of Joy, Sadness, Love, Hate, etc.—i.e., as his nature is constituted in one way or the other, so his Desires vary and the nature of one Desire must differ from the nature of the [15] other as much as the affects from which each arises differ from one another.

Therefore, there are as many species of Desire as there are species of Joy, Sadness, Love, etc., and consequently (through what has already been shown) as there are species of objects by which we are affected, q.e.d.

[20] Schol.: Noteworthy among these species of affects—which (by P56) must be very many—are Gluttony, Drunkenness, Lust, Greed, and Ambition, which are only notions of Love or Desire which explain the nature of each of these affects through the objects to which they are [25] related. For by Gluttony, Drunkenness, Lust, Greed, and Ambition we understand nothing but an immoderate Love or Desire for eating, drinking, sexual union, wealth, and esteem.

Moreover, these affects, insofar as we distinguish them from the others only through the object to which they are related, do not have [30] opposites. For Moderation, which we usually oppose to Gluttony, Sobriety which we usually oppose to Drunkenness, and Chastity, which we usually oppose to Lust, are not affects or passions, but indicate the power of the mind, a power that moderates these affects.

I cannot explain the other species of affects here—for there are as many as there are species of objects. But even if I could, it is not [35] necessary. For our purpose, which is to determine the powers of the [II/186] affects and the power of the Mind over the affects, it is enough to have a general definition of each affect. It is enough, I say, for us to understand the common properties of the affects and of the Mind, so that we can determine what sort of power, and how great a power, [5] the Mind has to moderate and restrain the affects. So though there is a great difference between this or that affect of Love, Hate or Desire—e.g., between the Love of one’s children and the Love of one’s wife—it is still not necessary for us to know these differences, nor to investigate [10] the nature and origin of the affects further.

P57: Each affect of each individual differs from the affect of another as much as the essence of the one from the essence of the other.37

[15] Dem.: This Proposition is evident from IIA1″ [II/99]. But nevertheless we shall demonstrate it from the definitions of the three primitive affects.

All the affects are related to Desire, Joy, or Sadness, as the definitions [20] we have given of them show. But Desire is the very nature, or essence, of each [individual] (see the definition of Desire in P9S). Therefore the Desire of each individual differs from the Desire of another as much as the nature, or essence, of the one differs from the essence of the other.

[25] Next, Joy and Sadness are passions by which each one’s power, or striving to persevere in his being, is increased or diminished, aided or restrained (by P11 and P11S). But by the striving to persevere in one’s being, insofar as it is related to the Mind and Body together, we understand [30] Appetite and Desire (see P9S). So Joy and Sadness are the Desire, or Appetite, itself insofar as it is increased or diminished, aided or restrained, by external causes. I.e. (by the same scholium), it is the very nature of each [individual]. And so, the Joy or Sadness of each [II/187] [individual] also differs from the Joy or Sadness of another as much as the nature, or essence, of the one differs from the essence of the other. Consequently, each affect of each individual differs from the affect of another as much, etc., q.e.d.

[5] Schol.: From this it follows that the affects of the animals which are called irrational (for after we know the origin of the Mind, we cannot in any way doubt that the lower animals feel things) differ from men’s affects as much as their nature differs from human nature. Both the [10] horse and the man are driven by a Lust to procreate; but the one is driven by an equine Lust, the other by a human Lust. So also the Lusts and Appetites of Insects, fish, and birds must vary. Therefore, though each individual lives content with his own nature, by which he is constituted, and is glad of it, nevertheless that life with which [15] each one is content, and that gladness, are nothing but the idea, or soul, of the individual. And so the gladness of the one differs in nature from the gladness of the other as much as the essence of the one differs from the essence of the other.

Finally, from P57 it follows that there is no small difference between the gladness by which a drunk is led and the gladness a Philosopher [20] possesses. I wished to mention this in passing.

This will be enough concerning the affects that are related to man insofar as he is acted on. It remains to add a few words about those that are related to him insofar as he acts.

[25] P58: Apart from the Joy and Desire that are passions, there are other affects of Joy and Desire that are related to us insofar as we act.

Dem.: When the Mind conceives itself and its power of acting, it [30] rejoices (by P53). But the Mind necessarily considers itself when it conceives a true, or adequate, idea (by IIP43). But the Mind conceives some adequate ideas (by IIP40S2). Therefore, it also rejoices insofar [II/188] as it conceives adequate ideas, i.e. (by P1), insofar as it acts.

Next, the Mind strives to persevere in its being, both insofar as it has clear and distinct ideas and insofar as it has confused ideas (by P9). But by striving we understand [NS: here] Desire (by P9S). [5] Therefore, Desire also is related to us insofar as we understand, or (by P1) insofar as we act, q.e.d.

P59: Among all the affects that are related to the Mind insofar as it acts, [10] there are none that are not related to Joy or Desire.

Dem.: All the affects are related to Desire, Joy, or Sadness, as the definitions we have given of them show. But by Sadness we understand the fact that the Mind’s power of acting is diminished or [15] restrained38 (by P11 and P11S). And so insofar as the Mind is saddened, its power of understanding, i.e. (by P1), of acting, is diminished or restrained. Hence no affects of Sadness can be related to the Mind insofar as it acts, but only affects of Joy and Desire, which (by [20] P58) are also so far related to the Mind, q.e.d.

Schol.: All actions that follow from affects related to the Mind insofar as it understands I relate to Strength of character, which I divide into Tenacity [25] and Nobility. For by Tenacity I understand the Desire by which each one strives, solely from the dictate of reason, to preserve his being. By Nobility I understand the Desire by which each one strives, solely from the dictate of reason, to aid other men and join them to him in friendship.

Those actions, therefore, which aim only at the agent’s advantage, [30] I relate to Tenacity, and those which aim at another’s advantage, I relate to Nobility. So Moderation, Sobriety, presence of mind in danger, etc., are species of Tenacity whereas Courtesy, Mercy, etc., are species of Nobility.

[II/189] And with this I think I have explained and shown through their first causes the main affects and vacillations of mind which arise from the composition of the three primitive affects, viz. Desire, Joy, and [5] Sadness. From what has been said it is clear that we are driven about in many ways by external causes, and that, like waves on the sea, driven by contrary winds, we toss about, not knowing our outcome and fate.

But I said that I have shown only the main [NS: affects], not all the conflicts of mind there can be. For by proceeding in the same way as [10] above, we can easily show that Love is joined to Repentance, Contempt, Shame, etc. Indeed, from what has already been said I believe it is clear to anyone that the various affects can be compounded with one another in so many ways, and that so many variations can arise from this composition that they cannot be defined by any number. But it was sufficient for my purpose to enumerate only the main affects. [To consider] those I have omitted would be more curious [15] than useful.

Nevertheless, this remains to be noted about Love: very often it happens that while we are enjoying a thing we wanted, the Body acquires from this enjoyment a new constitution, by which it is differently determined, and other images of things are aroused in it; and at the same time the Mind begins to imagine other things and desire other things.

[20] E.g., when we imagine something that usually pleases us by its taste, we desire to enjoy it—i.e., to consume it. But while we thus enjoy it, the stomach is filled, and the Body constituted differently. So if (while the Body is now differently disposed) the presence of the food or drink encourages the image of it, and consequently also the [25] striving, or Desire to consume it, then that new constitution will be opposed to this Desire, or striving. Hence, presence of the food or drink we used to want will be hateful. This is what we call Disgust and Weariness.

As for the external affections of the Body, which are observed in the affects—such as trembling, paleness, sobbing, laughter, etc.—I [30] have neglected them, because they are related to the Body only, without any relation to the Mind. Finally, there are certain things to be noted about the definitions of the affects. I shall therefore repeat them here in order, interposing the observations required on each one.

[II/190] DEFINITIONS OF THE AFFECTS39

I. Desire is man’s very essence, insofar as it is conceived to be determined, from any given affection of it, to do something.

[5] Exp.: We said above, in P9S, that Desire is appetite together with the consciousness of it. And appetite is the very essence of man, insofar as it is determined to do what promotes his preservation.

[10] But in the same scholium I also warned that I really recognize no difference between human appetite and Desire. For whether a man is conscious of his appetite or not, the appetite still remains one and the same. And so—not to seem to commit a tautology—I did not wish to explain Desire by appetite, but was anxious to so define it that I would [15] comprehend together all the strivings of human nature that we signify by the name of appetite, will, desire, or impulse. For I could have said that Desire is man’s very essence, insofar as it is conceived to be determined to do something. But from this definition (by IIP23) it [20] would not follow that the Mind could be conscious of its Desire, or appetite. Therefore, in order to involve the cause of this consciousness, it was necessary (by the same proposition) to add: insofar as it is conceived, from some given affection of it, to be determined etc. For by an affection of the human essence we understand any constitution of that [25] essence, whether it is innate [NS: or has come from outside], whether it is conceived through the attribute of Thought alone, or through the attribute of Extension alone, or is referred to both at once.

Here, therefore, by the word Desire I understand any of a man’s strivings, impulses, appetites, and volitions, which vary as the man’s constitution varies, and which are not infrequently so opposed to one [30] another that the man is pulled in different directions and knows not where to turn.

[II/191] II. Joy is a man’s passage from a lesser to a greater perfection.

III. Sadness is a man’s passage from a greater to a lesser perfection.

[5] Exp.: I say a passage. For Joy is not perfection itself. If a man were born with the perfection to which he passes, he would possess it without an affect of Joy.

This is clearer from the affect of Sadness, which is the opposite of joy. For no one can deny that Sadness consists in a passage to a lesser [10] perfection, not in the lesser perfection itself, since a man cannot be saddened insofar as he participates in some perfection. Nor can we say that Sadness consists in the privation of a greater perfection. For a privation is nothing, whereas the affect of Sadness is an act, which [15] can therefore be no other act than that of passing to a lesser perfection, i.e., an act by which man’s power of acting is diminished or restrained (see P11S).

As for the definitions of Cheerfulness, Pleasure, Melancholy, and Pain, I omit them, because they are chiefly related to the Body, and [20] are only Species of Joy or Sadness.

IV. Wonder is an imagination of a thing in which the Mind remains fixed because this singular imagination has no connection with the others. (See P52 and P52S.)

[25] Exp.: In IIP18S we showed the cause why the Mind, from considering one thing, immediately passes to the thought of another—because the images of these things are connected with one another, and so ordered that one follows the other. This, of course, cannot be conceived [30] when the image of the thing is new. Rather the Mind will be detained in regarding the same thing until it is determined by other causes to think of other things.

So the imagination of a new thing, considered in itself, is of the same nature as the other [imaginations], and for this reason I do not [II/192] number Wonder among the affects. Nor do I see why I should, since this distraction of the Mind does not arise from any positive cause which distracts the Mind from other things, but only from the fact that there is no cause determining the Mind to pass from regarding [5] one thing to thinking of others.

So as I pointed out in P11S, I recognize only three primitive, or primary, affects: Joy, Sadness, and Desire. I have spoken of Wonder only because it has become customary for some40 to indicate the affects [10] derived from these three by other names when they are related to objects we wonder at. For the same reason I shall also add the definition of Disdain to these.

V. Disdain is an imagination of a thing which touches the Mind so [15] little that the thing’s presence moves the Mind to imagining more what is not in it than what is. See P52S.

I omit, here, the definitions of Veneration and Contempt because no affects that I know of derive their names from them.

[20] VI. Love is a Joy, accompanied by the idea of an external cause.

Exp.: This definition explains the essence of Love clearly enough. But the definition of those authors41 who define Love as a will of the lover to join himself to the thing loved expresses a property of Love, not [25] its essence. And because these Authors did not see clearly enough the essence of Love, they could not have any clear concept of this property. Hence everyone has judged their definition42 quite obscure.

But it should be noted that when I say it is a property in the lover, that he wills to join himself to the thing loved, I do not understand [30] by will a consent,43 or a deliberation of the mind, or free decision (for we have demonstrated that this is a fiction in IIP48). Nor do I understand [II/193] a Desire of joining oneself to the thing loved when it is absent or continuing in its presence when it is present.44 For love can be conceived without either of these Desires. Rather, by will I understand a Satisfaction in the lover on account of the presence of the thing [5] loved, by which the lover’s Joy is strengthened or at least encouraged.

VII. Hate is a Sadness, accompanied by the idea of an external cause.

Exp.: The things to be noted here will be perceived easily from what has been said in the explanation of the preceding definition. See [10] also P13S.

VIII. Inclination is a Joy accompanied by the idea of a thing which is the accidental cause of Joy.

IX. Aversion is a Sadness accompanied by the idea of something [15] which is the accidental cause of Sadness. On this see P15S.

X. Devotion is a Love of one whom we wonder at.

Exp.: That Wonder arises from the newness of the thing we have shown in P52. So if it happens that we often imagine what we wonder [20] at, we shall cease to wonder at it. And so we see that the affect of Devotion easily changes into simple Love.

XI. Mockery is a Joy born of the fact that we imagine something we disdain in a thing we hate.

[25] Exp.: Insofar as we disdain a thing we hate, we deny existence to it (see P52S), and so far we rejoice (by P20). But since we suppose that man nevertheless hates what he mocks, it follows that this Joy is not enduring. (See P47S.)

[II/194] XII. Hope is an inconstant Joy, born of the idea of a future or past thing whose outcome we to some extent doubt.

XIII. Fear is an inconstant Sadness, born of the idea of a future or [5] past thing whose outcome we to some extent doubt. See P18S2.

Exp.: From these definitions it follows that there is neither Hope without Fear, nor Fear without Hope.45 For he who is suspended in Hope46 and doubts a thing’s outcome is supposed to imagine something [10] that excludes the existence of the future thing. And so to that extent he is saddened (by P19), and consequently, while he is suspended in Hope, he fears that the thing [he imagines] will happen.

Conversely, he who is in Fear, i.e., who doubts the outcome of a thing he hates, also imagines something that excludes the existence of [15] that thing. And so (by P20) he rejoices, and hence, to that extent has Hope that the thing will not take place.

XIV. Confidence is a Joy born of the idea of a future or past thing, concerning which the cause of doubting has been removed.

XV. Despair is a Sadness born of the idea of a future or past thing [20] concerning which the cause of doubting has been removed.

Exp.: Confidence, therefore, is born of Hope and Despair of Fear, when the cause of doubt concerning the thing’s outcome is removed. This happens because man imagines that the past or future thing is [25] there, and regards it as present, or because he imagines other things, excluding the existence of the things that put him in doubt. For though we can never be certain of the outcome of singular things (by IIP31C), it can still happen that we do not doubt their outcome. As we have shown (see IIP49S), it is one thing not to doubt a thing, and another [30] to be certain of it. And so it can happen that we are affected, from the image of a past or future thing, with the same affect of Joy or [II/195] Sadness as from the image of a present thing (as we have demonstrated in P18; see also its [first] scholium).47

XVI. Gladness is a Joy, accompanied by the idea of a past thing that has turned out better than we had hoped.48

[5] XVII. Remorse is a Sadness, accompanied by the idea of a past thing that has turned out worse than we had hoped.

XVIII. Pity is a Sadness, accompanied by the idea of an evil that has happened to another whom we imagine to be like us. (See P22S and P27S.)

[10] Exp.: There seems to be no difference between Pity and Compassion, except perhaps that Pity concerns the singular affect, whereas Compassion concerns the habitual disposition of this affect.

[15] XIX. Favor is a Love toward someone who has benefited another.

XX. Indignation is a Hate toward someone who has done evil to another.

Exp.: I know that in their common usage these words mean something [20] else.49 But my purpose is to explain the nature of things, not the meaning of words. I intend to indicate these things by words whose usual meaning is not entirely opposed to50 the meaning with which I wish to use them. One warning of this should suffice. As for the cause [25] of these affects, see P27C1 and P22S.

XXI. Overestimation is thinking more highly of someone than is just, out of Love.

XXII. Scorn is thinking less highly of someone than is just, out of Hate.

[II/196] Exp.: Overestimation, therefore, is an effect, or property, of Love, and Scorn an effect of Hate. And so Overestimation can also be defined as love insofar as it so affects a man that he thinks more highly than is just of [5] the thing loved. On the other hand, Scorn can be defined as Hate insofar as it so affects a man that he thinks less highly than is just of him he hates. See P26S.

XXIII. Envy is Hate insofar as it so affects a man that he is saddened [10] by another’s happiness and, conversely, glad at his ill fortune.

Exp.: To Envy one commonly opposes Compassion, which can therefore (in spite of the meaning of the word)51 be defined as follows.

XXIV. Compassion is Love, insofar as it so affects a man that he is [15] glad at another’s good fortune, and saddened by his ill fortune.

Exp.: As far as Envy is concerned, see P24S and P32S. These are the affects of Joy and Sadness that are accompanied by the idea of an [20] external thing as cause, either through itself or accidentally. I pass now to the others, which are accompanied by the idea of an internal thing as cause.

XXV. Self-esteem is a Joy born of the fact that a man considers himself and his own power of acting.

[25] XXVI. Humility is a Sadness born of the fact that a man considers his own lack of power, or weakness.

Exp.: Self-esteem is opposed to Humility, insofar as we understand [II/197] by it a Joy born of the fact that we consider our power of acting. But insofar as we also understand by it a Joy, accompanied by the idea of some deed which we believe we have done from a free decision of the [5] Mind, it is opposed to Repentance, which we define as follows.

XXVII. Repentance is a Sadness accompanied by the idea of some deed we believe ourselves to have done from a free decision of the Mind.

[10] Exp.: We have shown the causes of these affects in P51S, P53, P54, P55, and P55S. On the free decision of the Mind, see IIP35S.

But we ought also to note here that it is no wonder Sadness follows absolutely all those acts which from custom are called wrong, and Joy, [15] those which are called right. For from what has been said above we easily understand that this depends chiefly on education. Parents—by blaming the former acts, and often scolding their children on account of them, and on the other hand, by recommending and praising the latter acts—have brought it about that emotions of Sadness were joined to the one kind of act, and those of Joy to the other.

[20] Experience itself also confirms this. For not everyone has the same custom and Religion. On the contrary, what among some is holy, among others is unholy; and what among some is honorable, among others is dishonorable. Hence, according as each one has been educated, so he either repents of a deed or exults at being esteemed for it.

[25] XXVIII. Pride is thinking more highly of oneself than is just, out of love of oneself.

Exp.: The difference, therefore, between Pride and Overestimation is that the latter is related to an external object, whereas Pride is related to the man himself, who thinks more highly of himself than is [30] just. Further, as Overestimation is an effect or property of Love, so Pride is an effect or property of Self-love. Therefore, it can also be defined as Love of oneself, or Self-esteem, insofar as it so affects a man that he thinks more highly of himself than is just (see P26S).

[II/198] There is no opposite of this affect. For no one, out of hate, thinks less highly of himself than is just. Indeed, no one thinks less highly of himself than is just, insofar as he imagines that he cannot do this or that. For whatever man imagines he cannot do, he necessarily imagines; [5] and he is so disposed by this imagination that he really cannot do what he imagines he cannot do. For so long as he imagines that he cannot do this or that, he is not determined to do it, and consequently it is impossible for him to do it.

But if we attend to those things that depend only on opinion, we [10] shall be able to conceive it possible that a man thinks less highly of himself than is just. For it can happen that, while someone sad considers his weakness, he imagines himself to be disdained by everyone—even while the others think of nothing less than to disdain him. Moreover, it can happen that a man thinks less highly of himself than is just, if in the present he denies something of himself in relation to [15] a future time of which he is uncertain—e.g., if he denies that he can conceive of anything certain, or that he can desire or do anything but what is wrong or dishonorable. Again, we can say that someone thinks less highly of himself than is just, when we see that, from too great a fear of shame, he does not dare things that others equal to him dare.

[20] So we can oppose this affect—which I shall call Despondency—to Pride. For as Pride is born of Self-esteem, so Despondency is born of Humility. We can therefore define it as follows.

XXIX. Despondency is thinking less highly of oneself than is just, out of Sadness.

[25] Exp.: We are, nevertheless, often accustomed to oppose Humility to Pride. But then we attend more to the effects than to the nature of the two. For we usually call him proud who exults too much at being esteemed (see P30S), who tells of nothing but his own virtues, and the [30] vices of others, who wishes to be given precedence over all others, and finally who proceeds with the gravity and attire usually adopted by others who are placed far above him.

On the other hand, we call him humble who quite often blushes, who confesses his own vices and tells the virtues of others, who yields to all, and finally, who walks with head bowed, and neglects to adorn himself.

[II/199] These affects—Humility and Despondency—are very rare. For human nature, considered in itself, strains against them, as far as it can (see P13 and P54). So those who are believed to be most despondent [5] and humble are usually most ambitious and envious.

XXX. Love of esteem is a Joy accompanied by the idea of some action of ours which we imagine that others praise.

XXXI. Shame is a Sadness, accompanied by the idea of some action [NS: of ours] which we imagine that others blame.

[10] Exp.: On these, see P30S. But the difference between Shame and a Sense of Shame should be noted here. For Shame is a Sadness that follows a deed one is ashamed of; whereas a Sense of Shame is a Fear of, or Timidity regarding, Shame, by which man is restrained from [15] doing something dishonorable. To a Sense of Shame is usually opposed Shamelessness, but the latter is really not an affect, as I shall show in the proper place.52 But as I have already pointed out, the names of the affects are guided more by usage than by nature.

And with this I have finished what I had set out to explain concerning the affects of Joy and Sadness. So I proceed to those I relate [20] to Desire.

XXXII. Longing is a Desire, or Appetite, to possess something which is encouraged by the memory of that thing, and at the same time restrained by the memory of other things which exclude the existence of the thing wanted.

[25] Exp.: When we recollect a thing (as we have often said before), we are thereby disposed to regard it with the same affect as if it were present. But while we are awake, this disposition, or striving, is generally restrained by images of things that exclude the existence of what [30] we recollect. So when we remember a thing that affects us with some [II/200] kind of Joy, we thereby strive to regard it as present with the same affect of Joy—a striving which, of course, is immediately restrained by the memory of things that exclude its existence.

Longing, therefore, is really a Sadness which is opposed to that Joy [5] which arises from the absence of a thing we hate (see P47S). But because the word longing seems to concern Desire, I relate this affect to the affects of Desire.

XXXIII. Emulation is a Desire for a thing which is generated in us [10] because we imagine that others have the same Desire.

Exp.: If someone flees because he sees others flee, or is timid because he sees others timid, or, because he sees that someone else has burned his hand, withdraws his own hand and moves his body as if [15] his hand were burned, we shall say that he imitates the other’s affect, but not that he emulates it—not because we know that emulation has one cause and imitation another, but because it has come about by usage that we call emulous only him who imitates what we judge to be honorable, useful, or pleasant.

[20] As for the cause of Emulation, see P27 and P27S. And on why envy is generally joined to this effect, see P32 and P32S.

XXXIV. Thankfulness, or Gratitude, is a Desire, or eagerness of Love, by which we strive to benefit one who has benefited us from a [25] like affect of love. See P39 and P41S.

XXXV. Benevolence is a Desire to benefit one whom we pity. See P27S.

XXXVI. Anger is a Desire by which we are spurred, from Hate, [30] to do evil to him we hate. See P39.

[II/201] XXXVII. Vengeance is a Desire by which, from reciprocal Hate, we are roused to do evil to one who, from a like affect, has injured us. See P40C2 and P40C2S.

[5] XXXVIII. Cruelty, or Severity, is a Desire by which someone is roused to do evil to one whom we love or pity.53

Exp.: To Cruelty is opposed Mercy, which is not a passion, but a [10] power of the mind, by which a man governs anger and vengeance.

XXXIX. Timidity is a Desire to avoid a greater evil, which we fear, by a lesser one. See P39S.

XL. Daring is a Desire by which someone is spurred to do something [15] dangerous which his equals fear to take on themselves.

XLI. Cowardice is ascribed to one whose Desire is restrained by timidity regarding a danger which his equals dare to take on themselves.

[20] Exp.: Cowardice, therefore, is nothing but Fear of some evil, which most people do not usually fear. So I do not relate it to affects of Desire. Nevertheless I wished to explain it here, because insofar as we attend to the Desire, it is really opposed to daring.

[25] XLII. Consternation is attributed to one whose Desire to avoid an evil is restrained by wonder at the evil he fears.

Exp.: Consternation, therefore, is a species of Cowardice. But because Consternation arises from a double Timidity, it can be more [30] conveniently defined as a Fear that keeps a man senseless or vacillating so [II/202] that he cannot avert the evil. I say senseless insofar as we understand that his Desire to avert the evil is restrained by wonder, and vacillating insofar as we conceive that that Desire is restrained by Timidity regarding [5] another evil, which torments him equally, so that he does not know which of the two to avert. On these see P39S and P52S. As for Cowardice and Daring, see P51S.

XLIII. Human kindness, or Courtesy, is a Desire to do what pleases [10] men and not do what displeases them.

XLIV. Ambition is an excessive Desire for esteem.

Exp.: Ambition is a Desire by which all the affects are encouraged and strengthened (by P27 and P31); so this affect can hardly be overcome. [15] For as long as a man is bound by any Desire, he must at the same time be bound by this one. As Cicero says,54 Every man is led by love of esteem, and the more so, the better he is. Even the philosophers who write books on how esteem is to be disdained put their names to these works.

[20] XLV. Gluttony is an immoderate Desire for and Love of eating.

XLVI. Drunkenness is an immoderate Desire for and Love of drinking.

XLVII. Greed is an immoderate Desire for and Love of wealth.

[25] XLVIII. Lust is also a Desire for and Love of joining one body to another.

Exp.: Whether this Desire for sexual union is moderate or not, it is usually called Lust.

Moreover, these five affects (as I pointed out in P56S) have no opposites. [30] For Courtesy is a species of Ambition (see P29S), and I have [II/203] already pointed out also that Moderation, Sobriety, and Chastity indicate the power of the Mind, and not a passion. And even if it can happen that a greedy, ambitious, or timid man abstains from too much food, drink, and sexual union, still, Greed, Ambition, and [5] Timidity are not opposites of gluttony, drunkenness, or lust.

For the greedy man generally longs to gorge himself on another’s food and drink. And the ambitious will not be moderate in anything,55 provided he can hope he will not be discovered; if he lives among the drunken and the lustful, then because he is ambitious, he will be the more inclined to these vices. Finally, the timid man does what he does not wish to do. For though he may hurl his wealth into the sea to [10] avoid death, he still remains greedy. And if the lustful man is sad because he cannot indulge his inclinations, he does not on that account cease to be lustful.

Absolutely, these affects do not so much concern the acts of eating, drinking, etc., as the Appetite itself and the Love. Therefore, nothing can be opposed to these affects except Nobility and Tenacity, which [15] will be discussed later on.

I pass over in silence the definitions of Jealousy and the other vacillations of mind, both because they arise from the composition of affects we have already defined, and because most of them do not have names. This shows that it is sufficient for practical purposes to know [20] them only in general. Furthermore, from the definitions of the affects which we have explained it is clear that they all arise from Desire, Joy, or Sadness—or rather, that they are nothing but these three, each one generally being called by a different name on account of its varying relations and extrinsic denominations. If we wish now to attend [25] to these primitive affects, and to what was said above about the nature of the Mind, we shall be able to define the affects, insofar as they are related only to the Mind,56 as follows.

GENERAL DEFINITION OF THE AFFECTS

An Affect that is called a Passion of the mind is a confused idea, by [30] which the Mind affirms of its Body, or of some part of it, a greater or lesser force of existing than before, which, when it is given, determines the Mind to think of this rather than that.

[II/204] Exp.: I say, first, that an Affect, or passion of the mind, is a confused idea. For we have shown (P3) that the Mind is acted on only insofar as it has inadequate, or confused, ideas.

[5] Next, I say by which the mind affirms of its body or of some part of it a greater or lesser force of existing than before. For all the ideas that we have of bodies indicate the actual constitution of our own Body (by IIP16C2) more than the nature of the external body. But this [idea], which [10] constitutes the form of the affect, must indicate or express a constitution of the Body (or of some part of it), which the Body (or some part of it) has because its power of acting, or force of existing, is increased or diminished, aided or restrained.

But it should be noted that, when I say a greater or lesser force of existing than before, I do not understand that the Mind compares its [15] Body’s present constitution with a past constitution, but that the idea which constitutes the form of the affect affirms of the body something which really involves more or less of reality than before.

And because the essence of the Mind consists in this (by IIP11 and P13), that it affirms the actual existence of its body, and we understand [20] by perfection the very essence of the thing, it follows that the Mind passes to a greater or lesser perfection when it happens that it affirms of its body (or of some part of the body) something which involves more or less reality than before. So when I said above that the Mind’s power of Thinking is increased or diminished, I meant [25] nothing but that the Mind has formed of its Body (or of some part of it) an idea which expresses more or less reality than it had affirmed of the Body.

Finally, I added which determines the Mind to think of this rather than [30] that in order to express also, in addition to the nature of Joy and Sadness (which the first part of the definition explains), the nature of Desire.

[II/205] Fourth Part Of the Ethics On Human Bondage, or the Powers of the Affects

PREFACE

Man’s lack of power to moderate and restrain the affects I call Bondage. For the man who is subject to affects is under the control, not of [10] himself, but of fortune, in whose power he so greatly is that often, though he sees the better for himself, he is still forced to follow the worse.1 In this Part, I have undertaken to demonstrate the cause of this, and what there is of good and evil in the affects. But before I begin, I choose to say a few words first on perfection and imperfection, [15] good and evil.

If someone has decided to make something, and has finished it, then he will call his thing perfect2—and so will anyone who rightly knows, or thinks he knows, the mind and purpose of the Author of the work. For example, if someone sees a work (which I suppose to be not yet [20] completed), and knows that the purpose of the Author of that work is to build a house, he will say that it is imperfect. On the other hand, he will call it perfect as soon as he sees that the work has been carried through to the end which its Author has decided to give it. But if someone sees a work whose like he has never seen, and does not know [25] the mind of its maker, he will, of course, not be able to know whether [II/206] that work is perfect or imperfect. And this seems to have been the first meaning of these words.

But after men began to form universal ideas, and devise models of houses, buildings, towers, etc., and to prefer some models of things [5] to others, it came about that each one called perfect what he saw agreed with the universal idea he had formed of this kind of thing, and imperfect, what he saw agreed less with the model he had conceived, even though its maker thought he had entirely finished it.

[10] Nor does there seem to be any other reason why men also commonly call perfect or imperfect natural things, which have not been made by human hand. For they are accustomed to form universal ideas of natural things as much as they do of artificial ones. They regard these universal ideas as models of things, and believe that nature [15] (which they think does nothing except for the sake of some end) looks to them, and sets them before itself as models. So when they see something happen in nature which does not agree with the model they have conceived of this kind of thing, they believe that Nature itself has failed or sinned, and left the thing imperfect.

[20] We see, therefore, that men are accustomed to call natural things perfect or imperfect more from prejudice than from true knowledge of those things. For we have shown in the Appendix of Part I, that Nature does nothing on account of an end. That eternal and infinite being we call God, or Nature,3 acts from the same necessity from [25] which he exists. For we have shown (IP16) that the necessity of nature from which he acts is the same as that from which he exists. The reason, therefore, or cause, why God, or Nature, acts, and the reason why he exists, are one and the same. As he exists for the sake of no [II/207] end, he also acts for the sake of no end. Rather, as he has no principle or end of existing, so he also has none of acting. What is called a final cause is nothing but a human appetite insofar as it is considered as a [5] principle, or primary cause, of some thing.

For example, when we say that habitation was the final cause of this or that house, surely we understand nothing but that a man, because he imagined the conveniences of domestic life, had an appetite to build a house. So habitation, insofar as it is considered as a final [10] cause, is nothing more than this singular appetite. It is really an efficient cause, which is considered as a first cause, because men are commonly ignorant of the causes of their appetites. For as I have often said before, they are conscious of their actions and appetites, but not aware of the causes by which they are determined to want something.

[15] As for what they commonly say—that Nature sometimes fails or sins, and produces imperfect things—I number this among the fictions I treated in the Appendix of Part I.

Perfection and imperfection, therefore, are only modes of thinking, [20] i.e., notions we are accustomed to feign because we compare individuals of the same species or genus to one another. This is why I said above (IID6) that by reality and perfection I understand the same thing. For we are accustomed to refer all individuals in Nature to one genus, which is called the most general, i.e., to the notion of being, [25] which pertains absolutely to all individuals in Nature. So insofar as we refer all individuals in Nature to this genus, compare them to one another, and find that some have more being, or reality, than others, we say that some are more perfect than others. And insofar as we attribute something to them that involves negation, like a limit, an [II/208] end, lack of power, etc., we call them imperfect, because they do not affect our Mind as much as those we call perfect, and not because something is lacking in them which is theirs, or because Nature has sinned. For nothing belongs to the nature of anything except what [5] follows from the necessity of the nature of the efficient cause. And whatever follows from the necessity of the nature of the efficient cause happens necessarily.

As far as good and evil are concerned, they also indicate nothing positive in things, considered in themselves, nor are they anything [10] other than modes of thinking, or notions we form because we compare things to one another. For one and the same thing can, at the same time, be good, and bad, and also indifferent. For example, Music is good for one who is Melancholy, bad for one who is mourning, and neither good nor bad to one who is deaf.

[15] But though this is so, still we must retain these words. For because we desire to form an idea of man, as a model of human nature which we may look to, it will be useful to us to retain these same words with the meaning I have indicated. In what follows, therefore, I shall understand by good what we know certainly is a means by which we [20] may approach nearer and nearer to the model of human nature that we set before ourselves. By evil, what we certainly know prevents us from becoming like that model. Next, we shall say that men are more perfect or imperfect, insofar as they approach more or less near to this model.

But the main thing to note is that when I say that someone passes [25] from a lesser to a greater perfection, and the opposite, I do not understand that he is changed from one essence, or form, to another. For example, a horse is destroyed as much if it is changed into a man as if it is changed into an insect. Rather, we conceive that his power of acting, insofar as it is understood through his nature, is increased or diminished.

[II/209] Finally, by perfection in general I shall, as I have said, understand reality, i.e., the essence of each thing insofar as it exists and produces an effect, having no regard to its duration. For no singular thing can [5] be called more perfect for having persevered in existing for a longer time. Indeed, the duration of things cannot be determined from their essence, since the essence of things involves no certain and determinate time of existing. But any thing whatever, whether it is more perfect or less, will always be able to persevere in existing by the same [10] force by which it begins to exist; so they are all equal in this regard.

DEFINITIONS

D1: By good I shall understand what we certainly know to be useful to us.

D2: By evil, however, I shall understand what we certainly know [15] prevents us from being masters of some good.

Exp.: On these definitions, see the preceding preface [208/18-22].

D3: I call singular things contingent insofar as we find nothing, while we attend only to their essence, which necessarily posits their existence [20] or which necessarily excludes it.

D4: I call the same singular things possible, insofar as, while we attend to the causes from which they must be produced, we do not know whether those causes are determined to produce them.

In IP33S1 I drew no distinction between the possible and the contingent, [25] because there was no need there to distinguish them accurately.

D5: By opposite affects I shall understand, in what follows, those [II/210] which pull a man differently, although they are of the same genus—such as gluttony and greed, which are species of love, and are opposite, not by nature, but accidentally.

D6: I have explained in IIIP18S1 and S2 what I shall understand by [5] an affect toward a future thing, a present one, and a past.

But here it should be noted in addition that just as we can distinctly imagine distance of place only up to a certain limit, so also we can distinctly imagine distance of time only up to a certain limit. I.e., we usually imagine all those objects which are more than 200 feet away [10] from us,4 or whose distance from the place where we are surpasses what we can distinctly imagine, to be equally far from us; we therefore usually imagine them as if they were in the same plane; in the same way, we imagine to be equally far from the present all those objects whose time of existing we imagine to be separated from the present [15] by an interval longer than that we are used to imagining distinctly; so we relate them, as it were, to one moment of time.

D7: By the end for the sake of which we do something I understand appetite.

D8: By virtue and power I understand the same thing, i.e. (by IIIP7), [20] virtue, insofar as it is related to man, is the very essence, or nature, of man, insofar as he has the power of bringing about certain things, which can be understood through the laws of his nature alone.

AXIOM

[25] [A1:]5 There is no singular thing in nature than which there is not another more powerful and stronger. Whatever one is given, there is another more powerful by which the first can be destroyed.

[II/211] P1: Nothing positive which a false idea has is removed by the presence of the true insofar as it is true.

[5] Dem.: Falsity consists only in the privation of knowledge which inadequate ideas involve (by IIP35), and they do not have anything positive on account of which they are called false (by IIP33). On the contrary, insofar as they are related to God, they are true (by IIP32). So if what a false idea has that is positive were removed by the presence [10] of the true insofar as it is true, then a true idea would be removed by itself, which (by IIIP4) is absurd. Therefore, Nothing positive which a false idea has, etc., q.e.d.

Schol.: This proposition is understood more clearly from IIP16C2. [15] For an imagination is an idea which indicates the present constitution of the human Body more than the nature of an external body—not distinctly, of course, but confusedly. This is how it happens that the Mind is said to err.

For example, when we look at the sun, we imagine it to be about [20] 200 feet away from us. In this we are deceived so long as we are ignorant of its true distance; but when its distance is known, the error is removed, not the imagination, i.e., the idea of the sun, which explains its nature only so far as the Body is affected by it. And so, although we come to know the true distance, we shall nevertheless [25] imagine it as near us. For as we said in IIP35S, we do not imagine the sun to be so near because we are ignorant of its true distance, but because the Mind conceives the sun’s size insofar as the Body is affected by the sun. Thus, when the rays of the sun, falling on the surface of the water, are reflected to our eyes, we imagine it as if it [30] were in the water, even if we know its true place.

And so it is with the other imaginations by which the Mind is deceived, whether they indicate the natural constitution of the Body, or that its power of acting is increased or diminished: they are not [II/212] contrary to the true, and do not disappear on its presence.

It happens, of course, when we wrongly fear some evil, that the fear disappears on our hearing news of the truth. But on the other hand, it also happens, when we fear an evil that is certain to come, [5] that the fear vanishes on our hearing false news. So imaginations do not disappear through the presence of the true insofar as it is true, but because there occur others, stronger than them, which exclude the present existence of the things we imagine, as we showed in IIP17.

[10] P2: We are acted on, insofar as we are a part of Nature, which cannot be conceived through itself, without the others.

Dem.: We say that we are acted on when something arises in us of which we are only the partial cause (by IIID2), i.e. (by IIID1), something [15] that cannot be deduced from the laws of our nature alone. Therefore, we are acted on insofar as we are a part of Nature, which cannot be conceived through itself without the others, q.e.d.

P3: The force by which a man perseveres in existing is limited, and infinitely [20] surpassed by the power of external causes.

Dem.: This is evident from A1. For given a man, there is something else, say A, more powerful. And given A, there is something else again, say B, more powerful than A, and so on, to infinity. Therefore [25] the power of man is limited by the power of another thing and infinitely surpassed by the power of external causes, q.e.d.

P4: It is impossible that a man should not be a part of Nature, and that he should be able to undergo no changes except those which can be understood [30] through his own nature alone, and of which he is the adequate cause.

[II/213] Dem.: [i] The power by which singular things (and consequently, [any] man) preserve their being is the power itself of God, or Nature (by IP24C), not insofar as it is infinite, but insofar as it can be explained [5] through the man’s actual essence (by IIIP7). The man’s power, therefore, insofar as it is explained through his actual essence, is part of God or Nature’s infinite power, i.e. (by IP34), of its essence. This was the first point.

[ii] Next, if it were possible that a man could undergo no changes except those which can be understood through the man’s nature alone, [10] it would follow (by IIIP4 and P6) that he could not perish, but that necessarily he would always exist. And this would have to follow from a cause whose power would be either finite or infinite, viz. either from the power of the man alone, who would be able to avert from himself other changes which could arise from external causes, or from the [15] infinite power of Nature, by which all singular things would be directed so that the man could undergo no other changes except those which assist his preservation.

But the first is absurd (by P3, whose demonstration is universal and can be applied to all singular things).

Therefore, if it were possible for a man to undergo no changes [20] except those which could be understood through the man’s nature alone, so that (as we have already shown) he would necessarily always exist, this would have to follow from God’s infinite power; and consequently (by IP 16) the order of the whole of Nature, insofar as it is conceived under the attributes of Extension and Thought, would have [25] to be deduced from the necessity of the divine nature, insofar as it is considered to be affected with the idea of some man. And so (by IP21) it would follow that the man would be infinite. But this (by part [i] of this demonstration) is absurd.

Therefore, it is impossible that a man should undergo no other changes except those of which he himself is the adequate cause, q.e.d.

[30] Cor.: From this it follows that man is necessarily always subject to passions, that he follows and obeys the common order of Nature, and accommodates himself to it as much as the nature of things requires.

[II/214] P5: The force and growth of any passion, and its perseverance in existing, are not defined by the power by which we strive to persevere in existing, but by [5] the power of an external cause compared with our own.

Dem.: The essence of a passion cannot be explained through our essence alone (by IIID1 and D2), i.e. (by IIIP7), the power of a passion cannot be defined by the power by which we strive to persevere [10] in our being; but (as has been shown in IIP16) it must necessarily be defined by the power of an external cause compared with our own, q.e.d.

P6: The force of any passion, or affect, can surpass the other actions, or power, [15] of a man, so that the affect stubbornly clings to the man.

Dem.: The force and growth of any passion, and its perseverance in existing, are defined by the power of an external cause compared with our own (by P5). And so (by P3) it can surpass the power of a [20] man, etc., q.e.d.

P7: An affect cannot be restrained or taken away except by an affect opposite to, and stronger than, the affect to be restrained.

[25] Dem.: An affect, insofar as it is related to the Mind, is an idea by which the Mind affirms of its body a greater or lesser force of existing than before (by the general Definition of the Affects [II/203/29-33]). When, therefore, the Mind is troubled by some affect, the Body is at the same time affected with an affection by which its power of acting is increased or diminished.

[II/215] Next, this affection of the Body (by P5) receives from its cause its force for persevering in its being, which therefore, can neither be restrained nor removed, except by a corporeal cause (by IIP6) which affects the Body with an affection opposite to it (by IIIP5), and stronger than it (by A1).6

[5] And so (by IIP12), the Mind will be affected with the idea of an affection stronger than, and opposite to, the first affection, i.e. (by the general Definition of the Affects), the Mind will be affected with an affect stronger than, and opposite to, the first affect, which will exclude or take away the existence of the first affect.

Therefore, an affect can neither be taken away nor restrained except [10] through an opposite and stronger affect, q.e.d.

Cor.: An affect, insofar as it is related to the Mind, can neither be restrained nor taken away except by the idea of an opposite affection of the Body stronger than the affection through which it is acted on. For an affect through which we are acted on can neither be restrained [15] nor taken away except by an affect stronger than it and contrary to it (by P7), i.e. (by the general Definition of the Affects), except by an idea of an affection of the Body stronger than and contrary to the affection through which we are acted on.

[20] P8: The knowledge of good and evil is nothing but an affect of Joy or Sadness, insofar as we are conscious of it.

Dem.: We call good, or evil, what is useful to, or harmful to, preserving our being (by D1 and D2), i.e. (by IIIP7), what increases or [25] diminishes, aids or restrains, our power of acting. Therefore (by the Definitions of Joy and Sadness in IIIP11S), insofar as we perceive that a thing affects us with Joy or Sadness, we call it good or evil. And so knowledge of good and evil is nothing but an idea of Joy or Sadness [30] which follows necessarily from the affect of Joy or Sadness itself (by IIP22).

But this idea is united to the affect in the same way as the Mind is united to the Body (by IIP21), i.e. (as I have shown in IIP21S), this idea is not really distinguished from the affect itself, or (by the general [II/216] Definition of the Affects) from the idea of the Body’s affection; it is only conceptually distinguished from it. Therefore, this knowledge of good and evil is nothing but the affect itself, insofar as we are conscious of it, q.e.d.

[5] P9: An affect whose cause we imagine to be with us in the present is stronger than if we did not imagine it to be with us.

Dem.: An imagination is an idea by which the Mind considers a [10] thing as present (see its definition in IIP17S), which nevertheless indicates the constitution of the human Body more than the nature of the external thing (by IIP16C2). An affect, therefore (by the general Definition of the Affects), is an imagination, insofar as [the affect] indicates the constitution of the body. But an imagination (by IIP17) [15] is more intense so long as we imagine nothing that excludes the present existence of the external thing. Hence, an affect whose cause we imagine to be with us in the present is more intense, or stronger, than if we did not imagine it to be with us, q.e.d.

[20] Schol.: I said above (in IIIP18) that when we imagine a future or past thing, we are affected with the same affect as if we were imagining something present; but I expressly warned then that this is true insofar as we attend to the thing’s image only. For it is of the same nature whether we have imagined the thing7 as present or not. But I [25] did not deny that it is made weaker when we consider as present to us other things, which exclude the present existence of the future thing. I neglected to point this out then, because I had decided to treat the powers of the affects in this Part.

[30] Cor.: Other things equal, the image of a future or past thing (i.e., of a thing we consider in relation to a future or past time, the present being excluded) is weaker than the image of a present thing; and consequently, [II/217] an affect toward a future or past thing is milder, other things equal, than an affect toward a present thing.

P10: We are affected more intensely toward a future thing which we imagine [5] will quickly be present, than if we imagined the time when it will exist to be further from the present. We are also affected more intensely by the memory of a thing we imagine to be not long past, than if we imagined it to be long past.

[10] Dem.: Insofar as we imagine that a thing will quickly be present, or is not long past, we thereby imagine something that excludes the presence of the thing less than if we imagined that the time when it will exist were further from the present, or that it were far in the past (as is known through itself). And so (by P9), to that extent we will be [15] affected more intensely toward it, q.e.d.

Schol.: From what we noted at D6, it follows that we are still affected equally mildly toward objects separated from the present by an interval of time longer than that we can determine by imagining, even [20] though we may understand that they are separated from one another by a long interval of time.

P11: An affect toward a thing we imagine as necessary is more intense, other things equal, than one toward a thing we imagine as possible or contingent, [25] or not necessary.

Dem.: Insofar as we imagine a thing to be necessary, we affirm its existence. On the other hand, we deny its existence insofar as we [30] imagine it not to be necessary (by IP33S1), and therefore (by P9), an [II/218] affect toward a necessary thing is more intense, other things equal, than toward one not necessary, q.e.d.

P12: An affect toward a thing which we know does not exist in the present, [5] and which we imagine as possible, is more intense, other things equal, than one toward a contingent thing.

Dem.: Insofar as we imagine a thing as contingent, we are not affected by any image of another thing that posits the thing’s existence [10] (by D3); but on the other hand (according to the hypothesis), we imagine certain things that exclude its present existence. But insofar as we imagine a thing in the future to be possible, we imagine certain things that posit its existence (by D4), i.e. (by IIIP18), which encourage Hope or Fear. And so an affect toward a possible thing is more violent [15] [, other things equal, than one toward a contingent thing], q.e.d.

Cor.: An affect toward a thing which we know does not exist in the present, and which we imagine as contingent, is much milder than if we imagined the thing as with us in the present.

[20] Dem.: An affect toward a thing which we imagine to exist in the present is more intense than if we imagined it as future (by P9C), and [an affect toward a thing we imagine to exist in the future is] much more violent if we imagine the future time to be not far from the [25] present (by P10).8 Therefore, an affect toward a thing which we imagine will exist at a time far from the present is much milder than if we imagined it as present. And nevertheless (by P12), it is more intense than if we imagined that thing as contingent. And so an affect toward a contingent thing will be much milder than if we imagined the thing to be with us in the present, q.e.d.

[II/219] P13: An affect toward a contingent thing which we know does not exist in the present is milder, other things equal, than an affect toward a past thing.

[5] Dem.: Insofar as we imagine a thing as contingent, we are not affected by any image of another thing that posits the thing’s existence (by D3). But on the other hand (according to the hypothesis), we [10] imagine certain things that exclude its present existence. Now insofar as we imagine a thing in relation to past time, we are supposed to imagine something that brings it back to our memory, or that arouses the image of the thing (see IIP18 and P18S), and therefore brings it about that we consider it as if it were present (by IIP17C). And so [15] (by P9) an affect toward a contingent thing which we know does not exist in the present will be milder, other things equal, than an affect toward a past thing, q.e.d.

P14: No affect can be restrained by the true knowledge of good and evil insofar [20] as it is true, but only insofar as it is considered as an affect.9

Dem.: An affect is an idea by which the Mind affirms of its Body a greater or lesser force of existing than before (by the general Definition of the Affects). So (by P1), it has nothing positive which could be [25] removed by the presence of the true. Consequently the true knowledge of good and evil, insofar as it is true, cannot restrain any affect.

But insofar as it is an affect (see P8), it can restrain the affect, if it is stronger than it (by P7), q.e.d.

[II/220] P15: A Desire which arises from a true knowledge of good and evil can be extinguished or restrained by many other Desires which arise from affects by which we are tormented.

[5] Dem.: From a true knowledge of good and evil, insofar as this is an affect (by P8), there necessarily arises a Desire (by Def. Aff. I), which is the greater as the affect from which it arises is greater (by IIIP37). But because this Desire arises (by hypothesis) from the fact that we [10] understand something truly, it follows in us insofar as we act (by IIIP3).10 And so it must be understood through our essence alone (by IIID2), and consequently (by IIIP7), its force and growth can be defined only by human power alone.

Next, Desires which arise from affects by which we are torn are [15] also greater as these affects are more violent. And so their force and growth (by P5) must be defined by the power of external causes, which, if it were compared with ours, would indefinitely surpass our power [20] (by P3). Hence, Desires which arise from such affects can be more violent than that which arises from a true knowledge of good and evil, and can therefore (by P7) restrain or extinguish it, q.e.d.

P16: A Desire which arises from a true knowledge of good and evil, insofar as [25] this knowledge concerns the future, can be quite easily restrained or extinguished by a Desire for the pleasures of the moment.

Dem.: An affect toward a thing we imagine as future is milder than one toward a present thing (by P9C). But a Desire which arises from [30] a true knowledge of good and evil, even if this knowledge concerns things which are good now, can be restrained or extinguished by some [II/221] rash Desire (by P15, whose demonstration is universal). Therefore, a Desire which arises from the same knowledge, insofar as this concerns a future thing, can be quite easily restrained or extinguished, etc., q.e.d.

[5] P17: A Desire which arises from a true knowledge of good and evil, insofar as this concerns contingent things, can be restrained much more easily still by a Desire for things which are present.

[10] Dem.: This Proposition is demonstrated in the same way as the preceding one, from P12C.

Schol.: With this I believe I have shown the cause why men are moved more by opinion than by true reason, and why the true knowledge [15] of good and evil arouses disturbances of the mind, and often yields to lust of every kind. Hence that verse of the Poet:

… video meliora, proboque,

deteriora sequor …11

Ecclesiastes also seems to have had the same thing in mind when he said: “He who increases knowledge increases sorrow.”12

I do not say these things in order to infer that it is better to be [20] ignorant than to know, or that there is no difference between the fool and the man who understands13 when it comes to moderating the affects. My reason, rather, is that it is necessary to come to know both our nature’s power and its lack of power, so that we can determine what reason can do in moderating the affects, and what it cannot do. I said that in this part I would treat only of man’s lack of power. For [25] I have decided to treat Reason’s power over the affects separately.

P18: A Desire that arises from Joy is stronger, other things equal, than one that arises from Sadness.

[30] Dem.: Desire is the very essence of man (by Def. Aff. I), i.e. (by IIIP7), a striving by which a man strives to persevere in his being. So [II/222] a Desire that arises from Joy is aided or increased by the affect of Joy itself (by the Def. of Joy in IIIP11S), whereas one that arises from Sadness is diminished or restrained by the affect of Sadness (by the [5] same Schol.). And so the force of a Desire that arises from Joy must be defined both by human power and the power of the external cause, whereas the force of a Desire that arises from Sadness must be defined by human power alone. The former, therefore, is stronger than the latter, q.e.d.

[10] Schol.: With these few words I have explained the causes of man’s lack of power and inconstancy, and why men do not observe the precepts of reason. Now it remains for me to show what reason prescribes to us, which affects agree with the rules of human reason, and which, on the other hand, are contrary to those rules. But before I begin to [15] demonstrate these things in our cumbersome Geometric order,14 I should like first to show briefly here the dictates of reason themselves, so that everyone may more easily perceive what I think.

Since reason demands nothing contrary to nature, it demands that everyone love himself, seek his own advantage, what is really useful [20] to him, want what will really lead man to a greater perfection, and absolutely, that everyone should strive to preserve his own being as far as he can. This, indeed, is as necessarily true as that the whole is greater than its part (see IIIP4).

Further, since virtue (by D8) is nothing but acting from the laws of [25] one’s own nature, and no one strives to preserve his being (by IIIP7) except from the laws of his own nature, it follows:

(i) that the foundation of virtue is this very striving to preserve one’s own being, and that happiness consists in man’s being able to preserve his being;

(ii) that we ought to want virtue for its own sake, and that there is [30] not anything preferable to it, or more useful to us, for the sake of which we ought to want it; and finally

(iii) that those who kill themselves are weak-minded and completely conquered by external causes contrary to their nature.

Again, from IIPost. 4 [II/102/29-31] it follows that we can never bring it about that we require nothing outside ourselves to preserve our [35] being, nor that we live without having dealings with things outside [II/223] us. Moreover, if we consider our Mind, our intellect would of course be more imperfect if the Mind were alone and did not understand anything except itself. There are, therefore, many things outside us which are useful to us, and on that account to be sought.

[5] Of these, we can think of none more excellent than those that agree entirely with our nature. For if, for example, two individuals of entirely the same nature are joined to one another, they compose an individual twice as powerful as each one. To man, then, there is nothing more useful than man. Man, I say, can wish for nothing more [10] helpful to the preservation of his being than that all should so agree in all things that the Minds and Bodies of all would compose, as it were, one Mind and one Body; that all should strive together, as far as they can, to preserve their being; and that all, together, should seek for themselves the common advantage of all.

[15] From this it follows that men who are governed by reason—i.e., men who, from the guidance of reason, seek their own advantage—want nothing for themselves that they do not desire for other men. Hence, they are just, honest, and honorable.

These are those dictates of reason which I promised to present briefly [20] here before I began to demonstrate them in a more cumbersome order. I have done this to win, if possible, the attention of those who believe that this principle—that everyone is bound to seek his own advantage—is the foundation, not of virtue and morality, but of immorality. [25] After I have shown briefly that the contrary is true, I shall proceed to demonstrate this in the same way I have followed up to this point.

P19: From the laws of his own nature, everyone necessarily wants, or is repelled by, what he judges to be good or evil.

[30] Dem.: Knowledge of good and evil (by P8) is itself an affect of Joy or Sadness, insofar as we are conscious of it. And therefore (by IIIP28), everyone necessarily wants what he judges to be good, and conversely, [II/224] is repelled by what he judges to be evil. But this appetite is nothing but the very essence, or nature, of man (by the Definition of Appetite; see IIIP9S and Def. Aff. I). Therefore, everyone, from the laws of [5] his own nature, necessarily, wants or is repelled by, etc., q.e.d.

P20: The more each one strives, and is able, to seek his own advantage, i.e., to preserve his being, the more he is endowed with virtue; conversely, insofar as each one neglects his own advantage, i.e., neglects to preserve his being, he [10] lacks power.

Dem.: Virtue is human power itself, which is defined by man’s essence alone (by D8), i.e. (by IIIP7), solely by the striving by which [15] man strives to persevere in his being. So the more each one strives, and is able, to preserve his being, the more he is endowed with virtue. And consequently (by IIIP4 and P6), insofar as someone neglects to preserve his being, he lacks power, q.e.d.

[20] Schol.: No one, therefore, unless he is defeated by causes external, and contrary, to his nature, neglects to seek his own advantage, or to preserve his being. No one, I say, avoids food or kills himself from the necessity of his own nature.15 Those who do such things are compelled by external causes, which can happen in many ways. Someone may kill himself because he is compelled by another, who [25] twists his right hand (which happened to hold a sword) and forces him to direct the sword against his heart; or because he is forced by the command of a Tyrant (as Seneca was) to open his veins, i.e., he desires to avoid a greater evil by [submitting to] a lesser; or finally because hidden external causes so dispose his imagination, and so affect [30] his Body, that it takes on another nature, contrary to the former, a nature of which there cannot be an idea in the Mind (by IIIP10). But that a man should, from the necessity of his own nature, strive not to exist, or to be changed into another form, is as impossible as that [II/225] something should come from nothing. Anyone who gives this a little thought will see it.

P21: No one can desire to be blessed, to act well and to live well, unless at the [5] same time he desires to be, to act, and to live, i.e., to actually exist.

Dem.: The Demonstration of this Proposition, or rather the thing itself, is evident through itself, and also from the definition of Desire. [10] For the Desire (by Def. Aff. I) to live blessedly, or well, to act, etc., is the very essence of man, i.e. (by IIIP7), the striving by which each one strives to preserve his being. Therefore, no one can desire, etc., q.e.d.

P22: No virtue can be conceived prior to this [virtue] (viz. the striving to [15] preserve oneself).

Dem.: The striving to preserve itself is the very essence of a thing (by IIIP7). Therefore, if some virtue could be conceived prior to this [virtue], viz. to this striving, the very essence of the thing would be [20] conceived prior to itself (by D8), which is absurd (as is known through itself). Therefore, no virtue, etc., q.e.d.

Cor.: The striving to preserve oneself is the first and only foundation of virtue. For no other principle can be conceived prior to this [25] one (by P22) and no virtue can be conceived without it (by P21).

P23: A man cannot absolutely be said to act from virtue insofar as he is [30] determined to do something because he has inadequate ideas, but only insofar as he is determined because he understands.

[II/226] Dem.: Insofar as a man is determined to act from the fact that he has inadequate ideas, he is acted on (by IIIP1), i.e. (by IIID1 and [5] D2), he does something which cannot be perceived through his essence alone, i.e. (by D8), which does not follow from his virtue. But insofar as he is determined to do something from the fact that he understands, he acts (by IIIP1), i.e. (by IIID2), does something which is perceived through his essence alone, or (by D8) which follows adequately [10] from his virtue, q.e.d.

P24: Acting absolutely from virtue is nothing else in us but acting, living, and preserving our being (these three signify the same thing) by the guidance [15] of reason, from the foundation of seeking one’s own advantage.

Dem.: Acting absolutely from virtue is nothing but acting from the laws of our own nature (by D8). But we act only insofar as we understand (by IIIP3). Therefore, acting from virtue is nothing else in [20] us but acting, living, and preserving one’s being by the guidance of reason, and doing this (by P22C) from the foundation of seeking one’s own advantage, q.e.d.

P25: No one strives to preserve his being for the sake of anything else.

[25] Dem.: The striving by which each thing strives to persevere in its being is defined by the thing’s essence alone (by IIIP7). If this [essence] alone is given, then it follows necessarily that each one strives to preserve his being—but this does not follow necessarily from the essence of any other thing (by IIIP6).

[30] This Proposition, moreover, is evident from P22C. For if a man strove to preserve his being for the sake of something else, then that [II/227] thing would be the first foundation of virtue (as is known through itself). But (by P22C) this is absurd. Therefore, no one strives, etc., q.e.d.

P26: What we strive for from reason is nothing but understanding; nor does [5] the Mind, insofar as it uses reason, judge anything else useful to itself except what leads to understanding.

Dem.: The striving to preserve itself is nothing but the essence of the thing itself (by IIIP7), which, insofar as it exists as it does, is [10] conceived to have a force for persevering in existing (by IIIP6) and for doing those things that necessarily follow from its given nature (see the Definition of Appetite in IIIP9S). But the essence of reason is nothing but our Mind, insofar as it understands clearly and distinctly (see the Definition of this in IIP40S2). Therefore (by IIP40) whatever [15] we strive for from reason is nothing but understanding.

Next, since this striving of the Mind, by which the Mind, insofar as it reasons, strives to preserve its being, is nothing but understanding (by the first part of this demonstration), this striving for understanding [20] (by P22C) is the first and only foundation of virtue, nor do we strive to understand things for the sake of some end (by P25). On the contrary, the Mind, insofar as it reasons, cannot conceive anything to be good for itself except what leads to understanding (by D1), q.e.d.

[25] P27: We know nothing to be certainly good or evil, except what really leads to understanding or what can prevent us from understanding.

Dem.: Insofar as the Mind reasons, it wants nothing other than to [30] understand, nor does it judge anything else to be useful to itself except what leads to understanding (by P26). But the Mind (by IIP41, P43, [II/228] and P43S) has certainty of things only insofar as it has adequate ideas, or (what is the same thing, by IIP40S)16 insofar as it reasons. Therefore, we know nothing to be certainly good except what really leads to understanding, and conversely, know nothing to be certainly evil [5] except what can prevent us from understanding, q.e.d.

P28: Knowledge of God is the Mind’s greatest good; its greatest virtue is to know God.

[10] Dem.: The greatest thing the Mind can understand is God, i.e. (by ID6), a Being absolutely infinite, without which (by IP15) it can neither be nor be conceived. And so (by P26 and P27), the Mind’s greatest advantage, or (by D1) good, is knowledge of God.

[15] Next, only insofar as the Mind understands (by IIIP1 and P3), does it act, and can it be said absolutely to act from virtue (by P23). The absolute virtue of the Mind, then, is understanding. But the greatest thing the Mind can understand is God (as we have already demonstrated). [20] Therefore, the greatest virtue of the Mind is to understand, or know, God, q.e.d.

P29: Any singular thing whose nature is entirely different from ours can [25] neither aid nor restrain our power of acting, and absolutely, no thing can be either good or evil for us, unless it has something in common with us.

Dem.: The power of each singular thing, and consequently (by IIP10C), man’s power,17 by which he exists and produces an effect, is [30] not determined except by another singular thing (by IP28), whose nature must be understood (by IIP6) through the same attribute through [II/229] which human nature is conceived. Our power of acting, therefore, however it is conceived, can be determined, and hence aided or restrained, by the power of another singular thing which has something in common with us, and not by the power of a thing whose nature is [5] completely different from ours.

And because we call good or evil what is the cause of Joy or Sadness (by P8), i.e. (by IIIP11S), what increases or diminishes, aids or restrains, our power of acting, a thing whose nature is completely different [10] from ours can be neither good nor evil for us, q.e.d.

P30: No thing can be evil through what it has in common with our nature; but insofar as it is evil for us, it is contrary to us.

[15] Dem.: We call evil what is the cause of Sadness (by P8), i.e. (by the Definition of Sadness, see IIIP11S), what diminishes or restrains our power of acting. So if a thing were evil for us through what it has [20] in common with us, then the thing could diminish or restrain what it has in common with us. But (by IIIP4) this is absurd. Therefore, no thing can be evil for us through what it has in common with us. On the contrary, insofar as it is evil, i.e. (as we have already shown), [25] insofar as it can diminish or restrain our power of acting, it is contrary to us (by IIIP5), q.e.d.

P31: Insofar as a thing agrees with our nature, it is necessarily good.

[30] Dem.: Insofar as a thing agrees with our nature, it cannot be evil (by P30). So it must either be good or indifferent. If the latter is [II/230] posited, viz. that it is neither good nor evil, then (by A3)18 nothing will follow from its nature that aids the preservation of our nature, i.e. (by hypothesis), that aids the preservation of the nature of the [5] thing itself. But this is absurd (by IIIP6). Hence, insofar as it agrees with our nature, it must be good, q.e.d.

Cor.: From this it follows that the more a thing agrees with our nature, the more useful, or better, it is for us, and conversely, the [10] more a thing is useful to us, the more it agrees with our nature.

For insofar as it does not agree with our nature, it will necessarily be different from it or contrary to it. If it is different from it, then (by P29) it can be neither good nor evil. And if it is contrary, then it will [15] also be contrary to that which agrees with our nature, i.e. (by P31), contrary to the good, or evil. Nothing, therefore, can be good except insofar as it agrees with our nature. So the more a thing agrees with our nature, the more useful it is, and conversely, q.e.d.

[20] P32: Insofar as men are subject to passions, they cannot be said to agree in nature.

Dem.: Things that are said to agree in nature are understood to agree in power (by IIIP7), but not in lack of power, or negation, and [25] consequently (see IIIP3S) not in passion either. So insofar as men are subject to passions, they cannot be said to agree in nature, q.e.d.

Schol.: This matter is also evident through itself. If someone says [30] that black and white agree only in this, that neither is red, he affirms absolutely that black and white agree in nothing. Similarly, if someone says that a stone and a man agree only in this, that each is finite, lacks [II/231] power, does not exist from the necessity of its nature, or, finally, is indefinitely surpassed by the power of external causes, he affirms completely that a stone and a man do not agree in anything. For things that agree only in a negation, or in what they do not have, really agree [5] in nothing.

P33: Men can disagree in nature insofar as they are torn by affects which are passions; and to that extent also one and the same man is changeable and inconstant.

[10] Dem.: The nature, or essence, of the affects cannot be explained through our essence, or nature, alone (by IIID1 and D2), but must be defined by the power, i.e. (by IIIP7), by the nature of external causes compared with our own. That is why there are as many species of [15] each affect as there are species of objects by which we are affected (see IIIP56); that is why men are affected differently by one and the same object (see IIIP51), and to that extent, disagree in nature. And finally, that is also why one and the same man (again, by IIIP51) is affected differently toward the same object, and to that extent is [20] changeable, etc., q.e.d.

P34: Insofar as men are torn by affects which are passions, they can be contrary to one another.

[25] Dem.: A man—Peter, say—can be a cause of Paul’s being saddened, because he has something like a thing Paul hates (by IIIP16), or because Peter alone possesses something which Paul also loves (see IIIP32 and P32S), or on account of other causes (for the main causes, see [30] IIIP55S). And so it will happen, as a result (by Def. Aff. VII), that Paul hates Peter. Hence, it will easily happen (by IIIP40 and P40S) [II/232] that Peter hates Paul in return, and so (by IIIP39) that they strive to harm one another; i.e. (by P30), that they are contrary to one another. But an affect of Sadness is always a passion (by IIIP59). Therefore, [5] men, insofar as they are torn by affects which are passions, can be contrary to one another, q.e.d.

Schol.: I have said that Paul hates Peter because he imagines that Peter possesses what Paul himself also loves. At first glance it seems [10] to follow from this that these two are injurious to one another because they love the same thing, and hence, because they agree in nature. If this were true, then P30 and P31 would be false.

But if we are willing to examine the matter fairly, we shall see that all these propositions are completely consistent. For these two are not [15] troublesome to one another insofar as they agree in nature, i.e., insofar as each loves the same thing, but insofar as they disagree with one another. For insofar as each loves the same thing, each one’s love is thereby encouraged (by IIIP31). I.e. (by Def. Aff. VI), each one’s Joy is thereby encouraged. So it is far from true that they are troublesome to one another insofar as they love the same thing and agree in nature.

[20] Instead, as I have said, the cause of [their enmity] is nothing but the fact that (as we suppose) they disagree in nature. For we suppose that Peter has the idea of a thing he loves which is already possessed, whereas Paul has the idea of a thing he loves which is lost. That is why the one is affected with Joy and the other with Sadness, and to that extent they are contrary to one another.

[25] In this way we can easily show that the other causes of hate depend only on the fact that men disagree in nature, not on that in which they agree.

[30] P35: Only insofar as men live according to the guidance of reason, must they always agree in nature.

Dem.: Insofar as men are torn by affects which are passions, they can be different in nature (by P33), and contrary to one another (by [II/233] P34). But insofar as men live according to the guidance of reason, they are said only to act (by IIIP3). Hence, whatever follows from human nature, insofar as it is defined by reason, must be understood through [5] human nature alone (by IIID2), as through its proximate cause. But because each one, from the laws of his own nature, wants what he judges to be good, and strives to avert what he judges to be evil (by P19), and moreover, because what we judge to be good or evil when we follow the dictate of reason must be good or evil (by IIP41), it [10] follows that insofar as men live according to the guidance of reason, they must do only those things that are good for human nature, and hence, for each man, i.e. (by P31C), those things that agree with the nature of each man. Hence, insofar as men live according to the guidance [15] of reason, they must always agree among themselves, q.e.d.

Cor. 1: There is no singular thing in Nature that is more useful to man than a man who lives according to the guidance of reason.

For what is most useful to man is what most agrees with his nature [20] (by P31C), i.e. (as is known through itself), man. But a man acts entirely from the laws of his own nature when he lives according to the guidance of reason (by IIID2), and only to that extent must he always agree with the nature of the other man (by P35). Therefore, among singular things there is nothing more useful to man than a man, etc., q.e.d.

[25] Cor. 2.: When each man most seeks his own advantage for himself, then men are most useful to one another.

For the more each one seeks his own advantage, and strives to preserve himself, the more he is endowed with virtue (by P20), or what [30] is the same (by D8), the greater is his power of acting according to the laws of his own nature, i.e. (by IIIP3), of living from the guidance of reason. But men most agree in nature, when they live according to the guidance of reason (by P35). Therefore (by P35C1), men will be most useful to one another, when each one most seeks his own advantage, [35] q.e.d.

[II/234] Schol.: What we have just shown is also confirmed by daily experience, which provides so much and such clear evidence that this saying is in almost everyone’s mouth: man is a God to man.

Still, it rarely happens that men live according to the guidance of [5] reason. Instead, their lives are so constituted that they are usually envious and burdensome to one another. They can hardly, however, live a solitary life; hence, that definition which makes man a social animal19 has been quite pleasing to most. And surely we do derive, from the society of our fellow men, many more advantages than disadvantages. [10]

So let the Satirists laugh as much as they like at human affairs, let the Theologians curse them, let Melancholies praise as much as they can a life that is uncultivated and wild, let them disdain men and admire the lower animals. Men still find from experience that by helping one another they can provide themselves much more easily with [15] the things they require, and that only by joining forces can they avoid the dangers that threaten on all sides—not to mention that it is much preferable and more worthy of our knowledge to consider the deeds of men, rather than those of the lower animals. But I shall treat this topic more fully elsewhere.

[20] P36: The greatest good of those who seek virtue is common to all, and can be enjoyed by all equally.

Dem.: To act from virtue is to act according to the guidance of reason (by P24), and whatever we strive for from reason is understanding [25] (by P26). Hence (by P28), the greatest good of those who seek virtue is to know God, i.e. (by IIP47 and P47S), a good that is common to all men, and can be possessed equally by all men insofar as they are of the same nature, q.e.d.

[30] Schol.: But suppose someone should ask: what if the greatest good of those who seek virtue were not common to all? Would it not follow [II/235] from that, as above (see P34), that men who live according to the guidance of reason, i.e. (by P35), men, insofar as they agree in nature, would be contrary to one another?

[5] To this the answer is that it is not by accident that man’s greatest good is common to all; rather, it arises from the very nature of reason, because it is deduced from the very essence of man, insofar as [that essence] is defined by reason, and because man could neither be nor be conceived if he did not have the power to enjoy this greatest good. For it pertains to the essence of the human Mind (by IIP47) to have [10] an adequate knowledge of God’s eternal and infinite essence.

P37: The good which everyone who seeks virtue wants for himself, he also desires for other men; and this Desire is greater as his knowledge of God is greater.

[15] Dem.: Insofar as men live according to the guidance of reason, they are most useful to man (by P35C1); hence (by P19), according to the guidance of reason, we necessarily strive to bring it about that men live according to the guidance of reason. Now, the good which everyone [20] who lives according to the dictate of reason (i.e., by P24, who seeks virtue) wants for himself is understanding (by P26). Therefore, the good which everyone who seeks virtue wants for himself, he also desires for other men.

Next, Desire, insofar as it is related to the Mind, is the very essence of the Mind (by Def. Aff. I). Now the essence of the Mind consists [25] in knowledge (by IIP11), which involves knowledge of God (by IIP47). Without this [knowledge the Mind] can neither be nor be conceived (by IP15). Hence, as the Mind’s essence involves a greater knowledge of God, so will the Desire also be greater by which one who seeks [30] virtue desires for another the good he wants for himself, q.e.d.

Alternative dem.: The good which man wants for himself and loves, [II/236] he will love more constantly if he sees that others love it (by IIIP31). So (by IIIP31C), he will strive to have the others love the same thing. And because this good is common to all (by P36), and all can enjoy it, he will therefore (by the same reason) strive that all may enjoy it. [5] And this striving will be the greater, the more he enjoys this good (by IIIP37), q.e.d.

Schol. 1: He who strives, only because of an affect, that others should love what he loves, and live according to his temperament, acts [10] only from impulse and is hateful—especially to those to whom other things are pleasing, and who also, therefore, strive eagerly, from the same impulse, to have other men live according to their own temperament. And since the greatest good men seek from an affect is often such that only one can possess it fully, those who love are not of one [15] mind in their love—while they rejoice to sing the praises of the thing they love, they fear to be believed. But he who strives from reason to guide others acts not by impulse, but kindly, generously, and with the greatest steadfastness of mind.

Again, whatever we desire and do of which we are the cause insofar as we have the idea of God, or insofar as we know God, I relate to [20] Religion. The Desire to do good generated in us by our living according to the guidance of reason, I call Morality. The Desire by which a man who lives according to the guidance of reason is bound to join others to himself in friendship, I call Being Honorable, and I call that honorable which men who live according to the guidance of reason praise; on the other hand, what is contrary to the formation of friendship, [25] I call dishonorable.

In addition to this, I have also shown what the foundations of the state are.20

Furthermore, from what has been said above, one can easily perceive the difference between true virtue and lack of power; true virtue is nothing but living according to the guidance of reason, and so lack of power consists only in this, that a man allows himself to be guided [30] by things outside him, and to be determined by them to do what the common constitution of external things demands, not what his own nature, considered in itself, demands.

These are the things I promised, in P18S, to demonstrate. From them it is clear that the law against killing animals is based more on [35] empty superstition and unmanly compassion than sound reason. The [II/237] rational principle of seeking our own advantage teaches us the necessity of joining with men, but not with the lower animals, or with things whose nature is different from human nature. We have the same right against them that they have against us. Indeed, because [5] the right of each one is defined by his virtue, or power, men have a far greater right against the lower animals than they have against men. Not that I deny that the lower animals have sensations. But I do deny that we are therefore not permitted to consider our own advantage, use them at our pleasure, and treat them as is most convenient for us. [10] For they do not agree in nature with us, and their affects are different in nature from human affects (see IIIP57S).

It remains now for me to explain what is just and what unjust, what sin is, and finally, what merit is. These matters will be taken up in the following scholium.

[15] Schol. 2: In the Appendix of Part I, I promised to explain what praise and blame, merit and sin, and justice and injustice are. As far as praise and blame are concerned, I have explained them in IIIP29S. This will be the place to speak of the others. But first a few words must be said about man’s natural state and his civil state.

[20] Everyone exists by the highest right of nature, and consequently everyone, by the highest right of nature, does those things that follow from the necessity of his own nature. So everyone, by the highest right of nature, judges what is good and what is evil, considers his own advantage according to his own temperament (see P19 and P20), [25] avenges himself (see IIIP40C2), and strives to preserve what he loves and destroy what he hates (see IIIP28).

If men lived according to the guidance of reason, everyone would possess this right of his (by P35C1) without any injury to anyone else. But because they are subject to the affects (by P4C), which far surpass [30] man’s power, or virtue (by P6), they are often drawn in different directions (by P33) and are contrary to one another (by P34), while they require one another’s aid (by P35S).

In order, therefore, that men may be able to live harmoniously and be of assistance to one another, it is necessary for them to give up [II/238] their natural right and to make one another confident that they will do nothing which could harm others. How it can happen that men who are necessarily subject to affects (by P4C), inconstant and changeable [5] (by P33) should be able to make one another confident and have trust in one another, is clear from P7 and IIIP39. No affect can be restrained except by an affect stronger than and contrary to the affect to be restrained, and everyone refrains from doing harm out of timidity regarding a greater harm.

[10] By this law, therefore, Society can be maintained,21 provided it appropriates to itself the right everyone has of avenging himself, and of judging concerning good and evil. In this way Society has the power to prescribe a common rule of life, to make laws, and to maintain them—not by reason, which cannot restrain the affects (by P17S), but [15] by threats. This Society, maintained by laws and the power it has of preserving itself, is called a State, and those who are defended by its law, Citizens.

From this we easily understand that there is nothing in the state of nature which, by the agreement of all, is good or evil; for everyone [20] who is in the state of nature considers only his own advantage, and decides what is good and what is evil from his own temperament, and only insofar as he takes account of his own advantage. He is not bound by any law to submit to anyone except himself. So in the state of nature no sin can be conceived.

But in the Civil state, of course, it is decided by common agreement [25] what is good or what is evil. And everyone is bound to submit to the State. Sin, therefore, is nothing but disobedience, which for that reason can be punished only by the law of the State. On the other hand, obedience is considered a merit in a Citizen, because on that account he is judged worthy of enjoying the advantages of the State.

Again, in the state of nature there is no one who by common consent [30] is Master of anything, nor is there anything in Nature which can be said to be this man’s and not that man’s. Instead, all things belong to all. So in the state of nature, there cannot be conceived any will to give to each his own, or to take away from someone what is his. I.e., in the state of nature nothing is done which can be called just or unjust.

[35] But in the civil state, of course, where it is decided by common [II/239] consent what belongs to this man, and what to that [, things are done which can be called just or unjust].

From this it is clear that just and unjust, sin and merit, are extrinsic notions, not attributes that explain the nature of the Mind. But enough of this.

[5] P38: Whatever so disposes the human Body that it can be affected in a great many ways, or renders it capable of affecting external Bodies in a great many ways, is useful to man; the more it renders the Body capable of being affected in a great many ways, or of affecting other bodies, the more useful it is; on [10] the other hand, what renders the Body less capable of these things is harmful.

Dem.: The more the Body is rendered capable of these things, the more the Mind is rendered capable of perceiving (by IIP14). And so what disposes the Body in this way, and renders it capable of these [15] things, is necessarily good, or useful (by P26 and P27), and the more useful the more capable of these things it renders the Body. On the other hand (by the converse of IIP14, and by P26 and P27), it is harmful if it renders the body less capable of these things, q.e.d.

[20] P39: Those things are good which bring about the preservation of the proportion of motion and rest the human Body’s parts have to one another; on the other hand, those things are evil which bring it about that the parts of the human Body have a different proportion of motion and rest to one another.

[25] Dem.: To be preserved, the human Body requires a great many other bodies (by IIPost. 4). But what constitutes the form of the human Body consists in this, that its Parts communicate their motions to one another in a certain fixed proportion (by the Definition [at II/99-100]). Therefore, things which bring it about that the Parts of the [II/240] human Body preserve the same proportion of motion and rest to one another, preserve the human Body’s form. Hence, they bring it about that the human Body can be affected in many ways, and that it can affect external bodies in many ways (by IIPost. 3 and Post. 6). So [5] they are good (by P38).

Next, things which bring it about that the human Body’s parts acquire a different proportion of motion and rest to one another bring it about (by the same Definition [at II/99-100]) that the human Body takes on another form, i.e. (as is known through itself, and as I pointed out at the end of the preface of this Part), that the human Body is [10] destroyed, and hence rendered completely incapable of being affected in many ways. So (by P38), they are evil, q.e.d.

Schol.: In Part VI shall explain how much these things can be [15] harmful to or beneficial to the Mind. But here it should be noted that I understand the Body to die when its parts are so disposed that they acquire a different proportion of motion and rest to one another. For I dare not deny that—even though the circulation of the blood is maintained, as well as the other [signs] on account of which the Body is thought to be alive—the human Body can nevertheless be changed [20] into another nature entirely different from its own. For no reason compels me to maintain that the Body does not die unless it is changed into a corpse.

And, indeed, experience seems to urge a different conclusion. Sometimes a man undergoes such changes that I should hardly have said he was the same man. I have heard stories, for example, of a [25] Spanish Poet22 who suffered an illness; though he recovered, he was left so oblivious to his past life that he did not believe the tales and tragedies he had written were his own. He could surely have been taken for a grown-up infant23 if he had also forgotten his native language.

If this seems incredible, what shall we say of infants? A man of advanced years believes their nature to be so different from his own [30] that he could not be persuaded that he was ever an infant, if he did not make this conjecture concerning himself from [NS: the example of] others. But rather than provide the superstitious with material for raising new questions, I prefer to leave this discussion unfinished.

[II/241] P40: Things which are of assistance to the common Society of men, or which bring it about that men live harmoniously, are useful; those, on the other hand, are evil which bring discord to the State.

[5] Dem.: For things which bring it about that men live harmoniously, at the same time bring it about that they live according to the guidance of reason (by P35). And so (by P26 and P27) they are good.

And on the other hand (by the same reasoning), those are evil which arouse discord, q.e.d.

[10] P41: Joy is not directly evil, but good; Sadness, on the other hand, is directly evil.

Dem.: Joy (by IIIP11 and P11S) is an affect by which the body’s [15] power of acting is increased or aided. Sadness, on the other hand, is an affect by which the body’s power of acting is diminished or restrained. And so (by P38) joy is directly good, etc., q.e.d.

[20] P42: Cheerfulness cannot be excessive, but is always good; Melancholy, on the other hand, is always evil.

Dem.: Cheerfulness (see its Def. in IIIP11S) is a Joy which, insofar as it is related to the Body, consists in this, that all parts of the Body [25] are equally affected. I.e. (by IIIP11), the Body’s power of acting is increased or aided, so that all of its parts maintain the same proportion of motion and rest to one another. And so (by P39), Cheerfulness is always good, and cannot be excessive.

[II/242] But Melancholy (see its Def., also in IIIP11S) is a Sadness, which, insofar as it is related to the Body, consists in this, that the Body’s power of acting is absolutely diminished or restrained. And so (by P38) it is always evil, q.e.d.

[5] P43: Pleasure can be excessive and evil, whereas Pain can be good insofar as the Pleasure, or Joy, is evil.

[10] Dem.: Pleasure is a Joy which, insofar as it is related to the Body, consists in this, that one (or several) of its parts are affected more than the others (see its Def. in IIIP11S). The power of this affect can be so great that it surpasses the other actions of the Body (by P6), remains [15] stubbornly fixed in the Body, and so prevents the Body from being capable of being affected in a great many other ways. Hence (by P38), it can be evil.

Pain, on the other hand, which is a Sadness, cannot be good, considered in itself alone (by P41). But because its force and growth are defined by the power of an external cause compared with our power [20] (by P5), we can conceive infinite degrees and modes of the powers of this affect (by P3). And so we can conceive it to be such that it can restrain Pleasure, so that it is not excessive, and thereby prevent the body from being rendered less capable (by the first part of this Proposition). To that extent, therefore, it will be good, q.e.d.

[25] P44: Love and Desire can be excessive.

Dem.: Love is Joy, accompanied by the idea of an external cause (by Def. Aff. VI). Pleasure, therefore (by IIIP11S), accompanied by [30] the idea of an external cause, is Love. And so, Love (by P43) can be excessive.

[II/243] Again, Desire is greater as the affect from which it arises is greater (by IIIP37). Hence, as an affect (by P6) can surpass the rest of man’s actions, so also the Desire which arises from that affect can surpass the rest of his Desires. It can therefore be excessive in the same way [5] we have shown Pleasure can be (in P43), q.e.d.

Schol.: Cheerfulness, which I have said is good, is more easily conceived than observed. For the affects by which we are daily torn are [10] generally related to a part of the Body which is affected more than the others. Generally, then, the affects are excessive, and occupy the Mind in the consideration of only one object so much that it cannot think of others. And though men are liable to a great many affects, so that one rarely finds them to be always agitated by one and the same [15] affect, still there are those in whom one affect is stubbornly fixed. For we sometimes see that men are so affected by one object that, although it is not present, they still believe they have it with them.

When this happens to a man who is not asleep, we say that he is [20] mad or insane. Nor are they thought to be less mad who burn with Love, and dream, both night and day, only of a lover or a courtesan. For they usually provoke laughter. But when a greedy man thinks of nothing else but profit, or money, and an ambitious man of esteem, they are not thought to be mad, because they are usually troublesome [25] and are considered worthy of Hate. But Greed, Ambition, and Lust really are species of madness, even though they are not numbered among the diseases.

P45: Hate can never be good.

[30] Dem.: We strive to destroy the man we hate (by IIIP39), i.e. (by P37), we strive for something that is evil. Therefore, etc., q.e.d.

[II/244] Schol.: Note that here and in what follows I understand by Hate only Hate toward men.

[5] Cor. 1: Envy, Mockery, Disdain, Anger, Vengeance, and the rest of the affects which are related to Hate or arise from it, are evil. This too is evident from P37 and IIIP39.

Cor. 2: Whatever we want because we have been affected with hate [10] is dishonorable; and [if we live] in a State, it is unjust. This too is evident from IIIP39, and from the Definitions of dishonorable and unjust (see P37S).

Schol.: I recognize a great difference between Mockery (which, in Cor. 1, I said was evil) and laughter. For laughter and joking are pure [15] Joy. And so, provided they are not excessive, they are good through themselves (by P41). Nothing forbids our pleasure except a savage and sad superstition. For why is it more proper to relieve our hunger and thirst than to rid ourselves of melancholy?

My account of the matter,24 the view I have arrived at, is this: no [20] deity, nor anyone else, unless he is envious, takes pleasure in my lack of power and my misfortune; nor does he ascribe to virtue our tears, sighs, fear, and other things of that kind, which are signs of a weak mind. On the contrary, the greater the Joy with which we are affected, the greater the perfection to which we pass, i.e., the more we must participate in the divine nature. To use things, therefore, and [25] take pleasure in them as far as possible—not, of course, to the point where we are disgusted with them, for there is no pleasure in that—this is the part of a wise man.

It is the part of a wise man, I say, to refresh and restore himself in moderation with pleasant food and drink, with scents, with the beauty of green plants, with decoration, music, sports, the theater, and other [30] things of this kind, which anyone can use without injury to another. For the human Body is composed of a great many parts of different natures, which constantly require new and varied nourishment, so that the whole Body may be equally capable of all the things which [II/245] can follow from its nature, and hence, so that the Mind also may be equally capable of understanding many things.

This plan of living, then, agrees best both with our principles and with common practice. So, if any other way of living [is to be commended], this one is best, and to be commended in every way. Nor is it [5] necessary for me to treat these matters more clearly or more fully.

P46: He who lives according to the guidance of reason strives, as far as he can, to repay the other’s Hate, Anger, and Disdain toward him, with Love, or Nobility.

[10] Dem.: All affects of Hate are evil (by P45C1). So he who lives according to the guidance of reason will strive, as far as he can, to bring it about that he is not troubled with affects of Hate (by P19), and consequently (by P37), will strive that the other also should not [15] undergo those affects. Now Hate is increased by being returned, and on the other hand, can be destroyed by Love (by IIIP43), so that the Hate passes into Love (by IIIP44). Therefore, one who lives according to the guidance of reason will strive to repay the other’s Hate, etc., [20] with Love, i.e., with Nobility (see its Def. in IIIP59S), q.e.d.

Schol.: He who wishes to avenge wrongs by hating in return surely lives miserably. On the other hand, one who is eager to overcome Hate by Love, strives joyously and confidently, resists many men as [25] easily as one, and requires the least help from fortune. Those whom he conquers yield joyously, not from a lack of strength, but from an increase in their powers. All these things follow so clearly simply from the definitions of Love and of intellect, that there is no need to demonstrate them separately.

[30] P47: Affects of Hope and Fear cannot be good of themselves.

[II/246] Dem.: There are no affects of Hope or Fear without Sadness. For Fear is a Sadness (by Def. Aff. XIII), and there is no Hope without Fear (see the explanation following Def. Aff. XII and XIII). Therefore [5] (by P41) these affects cannot be good of themselves, but only insofar as they can restrain an excess of Joy (by P43), q.e.d.

Schol.: We may add to this that these affects show a defect of [10] knowledge and a lack of power in the Mind. For this reason also Confidence and Despair, Gladness and Remorse are signs of a mind lacking in power. For though Confidence and Gladness are affects of Joy, they still presuppose that a Sadness has preceded them, viz. Hope and Fear. Therefore, the more we strive to live according to the guidance [15] of reason, the more we strive to depend less on Hope, to free ourselves from Fear, to conquer fortune as much as we can, and to direct our actions by the certain counsel of reason.

P48: Affects of Overestimation and Scorn are always evil.

[20] Dem.: These affects are contrary to reason (by Def. Aff. XXI and XXII). So (by P26 and P27) they are evil, q.e.d.

[25] P49: Overestimation easily makes the man who is overestimated proud.

Dem.: If we see that someone, out of love, thinks more highly of us than is just, we shall easily exult at being esteemed (by IIIP41S), or be affected with Joy (by Def. Aff. XXX), and we shall easily believe [30] the good we hear predicated of us (by IIIP25). And so, out of love of ourselves, we shall think more highly of ourselves than is just, i.e. (by Def. Aff. XXVIII), we shall easily become proud, q.e.d.

[II/247] P50: Pity, in a man who lives according to the guidance of reason, is evil of itself, and useless.25

[5] Dem.: For pity (by Def. Aff. XVIII) is a Sadness, and therefore (by P41), of itself, evil.

Moreover, the good which follows from it, viz. that we strive to free the man we pity from his suffering (by IIIP27C3), we desire to do from the dictate of reason alone (by P37), and we can only do from [10] the dictate of reason alone something which we know certainly to be good (by P27).

Hence, Pity is both evil of itself, and, in a man who lives according to the dictate of reason, useless, q.e.d.

Cor.: From this it follows that man who lives according to the dictate [15] of reason, strives, as far as he can, not to be touched by pity.

Schol.: He who rightly knows that all things follow from the necessity of the divine nature, and happen according to the eternal laws and rules of nature, will surely find nothing worthy of Hate, Mockery26 [20] or Disdain, nor anyone whom he will pity. Instead he will strive, as far as human virtue allows, to act well, as they say,27 and rejoice.

To this we may add that he who is easily touched by the affect of Pity, and moved by another’s suffering or tears, often does something he later repents—both because, from an affect, we do nothing which we certainly know to be good, and because we are easily deceived by [25] false tears.

Here I am speaking expressly of a man who lives according to the guidance of reason. For one who is moved to aid others neither by reason nor by pity is rightly called inhuman. For (by IIIP27) he seems to be unlike a man.28

[II/248] P51: Favor is not contrary to reason, but can agree with it and arise from it.

[5] Dem.: For Favor is a Love toward him who has benefited another (by Def. Aff. XIX), and so can be related to the Mind insofar as it is said to act (by IIIP59), i.e. (by IIIP3), insofar as it understands. Therefore, it agrees with reason, etc., q.e.d.

[10] Alternate dem.: He who lives according to the guidance of reason, desires for the other, too, the good he wants for himself (by P37). So because he sees someone benefiting another, his own striving to do good is aided, i.e. (by IIIP11S), he will rejoice. And this Joy (by hypothesis) will be accompanied by the idea of him who has benefited [15] another. He will, therefore (by Def. Aff. XIX), favor him, q.e.d.

Schol.: Indignation, as we define it (see Def. Aff. XX), is necessarily evil (by P45). But it should be noted that when the supreme power, bound by its desire to preserve peace, punishes a citizen who has [20] wronged another, I do not say that it is indignant toward the citizen. For it punishes him, not because it has been aroused by Hate to destroy him, but because it is moved by duty.

P52: Self-esteem can arise from reason, and only that self-esteem which does [25] arise from reason is the greatest there can be.

Dem.: Self-esteem is a Joy born of the fact that man considers himself and his power of acting (by Def. Aff. XXV). But man’s true [30] power of acting, or virtue, is reason itself (by IIIP3), which man considers [II/249] clearly and distinctly (by IIP40 and P43). Therefore, self-esteem arises from reason.

Next, while a man considers himself, he perceives nothing clearly and distinctly, or adequately, except those things which follow from [5] his power of acting (by IIID2), i.e. (by IIIP3), which follow from his power of understanding. And so the greatest self-esteem there can be arises only from this reflection, q.e.d.

Schol.: Self-esteem is really the highest thing we can hope for. For [10] (as we have shown in P25) no one strives to preserve his being for the sake of any end. And because this self-esteem is more and more encouraged and strengthened by praise (by IIIP53C), and on the other hand, more and more upset by blame (by IIIP55C), we are guided [15] most by love of esteem and can hardly bear a life in disgrace.

P53: Humility is not a virtue, or does not arise from reason.

Dem.: Humility is a Sadness which arises from the fact that a man [20] considers his own lack of power (by Def. Aff. XXVI). Moreover, insofar as a man knows himself by true reason, it is supposed that he understands his own essence, i.e. (by IIIP7), his own power. So if a man, in considering himself, perceives some lack of power of his, this is not because he understands himself, but because his power of acting [25] is restrained (as we have shown in IIIP55). But if we suppose that the man conceives his lack of power because he understands something more powerful than himself, by the knowledge of which he determines his power of acting, then we conceive nothing but that the man understands himself distinctly or (by P26) that his power of acting is [30] aided. So Humility, or the Sadness which arises from the fact that a man reflects on his own lack of power, does not arise from a true reflection, or reason, and is a passion, not a virtue, q.e.d.

[II/250] P54: Repentance is not a virtue, or does not arise from reason; instead, he who repents what he has done is twice wretched, or lacking in power.

[5] Dem.: The first part of this is demonstrated as P53 was. The second is evident simply from the Definition of this affect (see Def. Aff. XXVII). For first he suffers himself to be conquered by an evil Desire, and then by Sadness.

[10] Schol.: Because men rarely live from the dictate of reason, these two affects, Humility and Repentance, and in addition, Hope and Fear, bring more advantage than disadvantage. So since men must sin, they ought rather to sin in that direction.29 If weak-minded men were [15] all equally proud, ashamed of nothing, and afraid of nothing, how could they be united or restrained by any bonds?

The mob is terrifying, if unafraid. So it is no wonder that the Prophets, who considered the common advantage, not that of the few, commended Humility, Repentance, and Reverence so greatly. Really, [20] those who are subject to these affects can be guided far more easily than others, so that in the end they may live from the guidance of reason, i.e., may be free and enjoy the life of the blessed.

P55: Either very great Pride or very great Despondency is very great ignorance of oneself.

[25] Dem.: This is evident from Defs. Aff. XXVIII and XXIX.

P56: Either very great Pride or very great Despondency indicates very great weakness of mind.

[II/251] Dem.: The first foundation of virtue is preserving one’s being (by P22C) and doing this from the guidance of reason (by P24). Therefore, he who is ignorant of himself is ignorant of the foundation of all the [5] virtues, and consequently, of all the virtues. Next, acting from virtue is nothing but acting from the guidance of reason (by P24), and he who acts from the guidance of reason must know that he acts from the guidance of reason (by IIP43). Therefore, he who is ignorant of himself, and consequently (as we have just now shown) of all the [10] virtues, does not act from virtue at all, i.e. (as is evident from D8), is extremely weak-minded. And so (by P55) either very great pride or very great despondency indicate very great weakness of mind, q.e.d.

[15] Cor.: From this it follows very clearly that the proud and the despondent are highly liable to affects.

Schol.: Nevertheless, despondency can be corrected more easily than pride, since pride is an affect of Joy, whereas despondency is an affect [20] of Sadness. And so (by P18), pride is stronger than despondency.

P57: The proud man loves the presence of parasites, or flatterers, but hates the presence of the noble.

[25] Dem.: Pride is a Joy born of the fact that man thinks more highly of himself than is just (see Defs. Aff. XXVIII and VI). The proud man will strive as far as he can to encourage this opinion (see IIIP13S). And so the proud will love the presence of parasites or flatterers (I have omitted the definitions of these because they are too well known),30 and will flee the presence of the noble, who think of them as is appropriate, [30] q.e.d.

[II/252] Schol.: It would take too long to enumerate all the evils of Pride here, since the proud are subject to all the affects (though they are least subject to affects of Love and Compassion).

[5] But we ought not to pass over in silence here the fact that he also is called proud who thinks less highly of others than is just. So in this sense Pride should be defined as a Joy born of a man’s false opinion that he is above others. And the Despondency contrary to this Pride would need to be defined as a Sadness born of a man’s false opinion that he is below others.

[10] But this being posited, we easily conceive that the proud man must be envious (see IIIP55S) and hate those most who are most praised for their virtues, that his Hatred of them is not easily conquered by Love or benefits (see IIIP41S), and that he takes pleasure only in the presence of those who humor his weakness of mind and make a madman [15] of a fool.

Although Despondency is contrary to Pride, the despondent man is still very near the proud one. For since his Sadness arises from the fact that he judges his own lack of power from the power, or virtue, of others, his Sadness will be relieved, i.e., he will rejoice, if his imagination [20] is occupied in considering the vices of others. Hence the proverb: misery loves company.

On the other hand, the more he believes himself to be below others, the more he will be saddened. That is why no one is more prone to Envy than the despondent man is, and why they strive especially to [25] observe men’s deeds, more for the sake of finding fault than to improve them, and why, finally, they praise only Despondency, and exult over it—but in such a way that they still seem despondent.

These things follow from this affect as necessarily as it follows from the nature of a triangle that its three angles are equal to two right [30] angles. I have already said that I call these, and like affects, evil insofar as I attend only to human advantage. But the laws of nature concern the common order of nature, of which man is a part. I wished to remind my readers of this here, in passing, in case anyone thought my purpose was only to tell about men’s vices and their absurd deeds, [35] and not to demonstrate the nature and properties of things. For as I [II/253] said in the Preface of Part III, I consider men’s affects and properties just like other natural things. And of course human affects, if they do not indicate man’s power, at least indicate the power and skill of nature, no less than many other things we wonder at and take pleasure [5] in contemplating. But I continue to note, concerning the affects, those things that bring advantage to men, and those that bring them harm.

P58: Love of esteem is not contrary to reason, but can arise from it.

[10] Dem.: This is evident from Def. Aff. XXX, and from the Definition of what is Honorable (see P37S1).

Schol.: The love of esteem which is called empty is a self-esteem that is encouraged only by the opinion of the multitude. When that [15] ceases, the self-esteem ceases, i.e. (by P52S), the highest good that each one loves. That is why he who exults at being esteemed by the multitude is made anxious daily, strives, sacrifices, and schemes, in order to preserve his reputation. For the multitude is fickle and inconstant; unless one’s reputation is guarded,31 it is quickly destroyed. Indeed, because everyone desires to secure the applause of the multitude, [20] each one willingly puts down the reputation of the other. And since the struggle is over a good thought to be the highest, this gives rise to a monstrous lust of each to crush the other in any way possible. The one who at last emerges as victor exults more in having harmed the other than in having benefited himself. This love of esteem, or [25] self-esteem, then, is really empty, because it is nothing.

The things which must be noted about Shame are easily inferred from what we said about Compassion and Repentance. I add only this, that like Pity, Shame, though not a virtue, is still good insofar as it indicates, in the man who blushes with Shame, a desire to live [30] honorably. In the same way pain is said to be good insofar as it indicates that the injured part is not yet decayed. So though a man who [II/254] is ashamed of some deed is really sad, he is still more perfect than one who is shameless, who has no desire to live honorably.

These are the things I undertook to note concerning the affects of Joy and Sadness. As far as desires are concerned, they, of course, are [5] good or evil insofar as they arise from good or evil affects. But all of them, really, insofar as they are generated in us from affects which are passions, are blind (as may easily be inferred from what we said in P44S), and would be of no use if men could easily be led to live according to the dictate of reason alone. I shall now show this concisely. [10]

P59: To every action to which we are determined from an affect which is a passion, we can be determined by reason, without that affect.

[15] Dem.: Acting from reason is nothing but doing those things which follow from the necessity of our nature, considered in itself alone (by IIIP3 and D2). But Sadness is evil insofar as it decreases or restrains this power of acting (by P41). Therefore, from this affect we cannot be determined to any action which we could not do if we were led by [20] reason.

Furthermore, Joy is bad [only]32 insofar as it prevents man from being capable of acting (by P41 and P43), and so to that extent also, we cannot be determined to any action which we could not do if we [25] were guided by reason.

Finally, insofar as Joy is good, it agrees with reason (for it consists in this, that a man’s power of acting is increased or aided), and is not a passion except insofar as the man’s power of acting is not increased to the point where he conceives himself and his actions adequately. So if a man affected with Joy were led to such a great perfection that [30] he conceived himself and his actions adequately, he would be capable—indeed more capable—of the same actions to which he is now determined from affects which are passions.

But all affects are related to Joy, Sadness, or Desire (see the explanation [II/255] of Def. Aff. IV), and Desire (by Def. Aff. I) is nothing but the striving to act itself. Therefore, to every action to which we are determined from an affect which is a passion, we can be led by reason alone, without the affect, q.e.d.

[5] Alternate dem.: Any action is called evil insofar as it arises from the fact that we have been affected with Hate or with some evil affect (see P45C1). But no action, considered in itself, is good or evil (as we have shown in the Preface of this Part); instead, one and the same action is [10] now good, now evil. Therefore, to the same action which is now evil, or which arises from some evil affect, we can (by P19) be led by reason, q.e.d.

Schol.: These things are more clearly explained by an example. The [15] act of beating, insofar as it is considered physically, and insofar as we attend only to the fact that the man raises his arm, closes his fist, and moves his whole arm forcefully up and down, is a virtue, which is conceived from the structure of the human Body. Therefore, if a man moved by Anger or Hate is determined to close his fist or move his [20] arm, that (as we have shown in Part II) happens because one and the same action can be joined to any images of things whatever. And so we can be determined to one and the same action both from those images of things which we conceive confusedly and [from those images of things?] we conceive clearly and distinctly.

It is evident, therefore, that every Desire that arises from an affect [25] which is a passion would be of no use if men could be guided by reason. Let us see now why we call a Desire blind which arises from an affect which is a passion.

P60: A Desire arising from either a Joy or a Sadness related to one, or several, [30] but not to all parts of the Body, has no regard for the advantage of the whole man.

[II/256] Dem.: Suppose, for example, that part A of the Body is so strengthened by the force of some external cause that it prevails over the others (by P6). This part will not, on that account, strive to lose its powers [5] so that the other parts of the body may fulfill their function. For [if it did], it would have to have a force, or power, of losing its own powers, which (by IIIP6) is absurd. Therefore, that part will strive, and consequently (by IIIP7 and P12), the Mind also will strive, to preserve that state. And so the Desire that arises from such an affect of Joy does not have regard to the whole.

[10] If, on the other hand, it is supposed that part A is restrained so that the others prevail, it is demonstrated in the same way that the Desire which arises from Sadness also does not have regard to the whole, q.e.d.

Schol.: Therefore, since Joy is generally (by P44S) related to one [15] part of the body, for the most part we desire to preserve our being without regard to our health as a whole. To this we may add that the Desires by which we are most bound (by P9C) have regard only to the present and not to the future.

[20] P61: A Desire that arises from reason cannot be excessive.

Dem.: Desire, considered absolutely, is the very essence of man (by Def. Aff. I), insofar as it is conceived to be determined in any way to [25] doing something. And so a Desire that arises from reason, i.e. (by IIIP3), that is generated in us insofar as we act is the very essence, or nature, of man, insofar as it is conceived to be determined to doing [30] those things that are conceived adequately through man’s essence alone (by IIID2). So if this desire could be excessive, then human nature, considered in itself alone, could exceed itself, or could do more than it can. This is a manifest contradiction. Therefore, this Desire cannot be excessive, q.e.d.

[II/257] P62: Insofar as the Mind conceives things from the dictate of reason, it is affected equally, whether the idea is of a future or past thing, or of a present one.

[5] Dem.: Whatever the Mind conceives under the guidance of reason, it conceives under the same species of eternity, or necessity (by IIP44C2) and is affected with the same certainty (by IIP43 and P43S). So whether the idea is of a future or a past thing, or of a present one, the Mind conceives the thing with the same necessity and is affected with the [10] same certainty. And whether the idea is of a future or a past thing or of a present one, it will nevertheless be equally true (by IIP41), i.e. (by IID4), it will nevertheless always have the same properties of an adequate idea. And so, insofar as the Mind conceives things from the dictate of reason, it is affected in the same way, whether the idea is [15] of a future or a past thing, or of a present one, q.e.d.

Schol.: If we could have adequate knowledge of the duration of things, and determine by reason their times of existing, we would regard future things with the same affect as present ones, and the [20] Mind would want the good it conceived as future just as it wants the good it conceives as present. Hence, it would necessarily neglect a lesser present good for a greater future one, and what would be good in the present, but the cause of some future ill, it would not want at all, as we shall soon demonstrate.

But we can have only a quite inadequate knowledge of the duration [25] of things (by IIP31), and we determine their times of existing only by the imagination (by IIP44S), which is not equally affected by the image of a present thing and the image of a future one. That is why the true knowledge we have of good and evil is only abstract, or universal, and the judgment we make concerning the order of things and the [30] connection of causes, so that we may be able to determine what in the present is good or evil for us, is imaginary, rather than real. And so [II/258] it is no wonder if the Desire that arises from a knowledge of good and evil, insofar as this looks to the future, can be rather easily restrained by a Desire for the pleasures of the moment. On this, see P16.

[5] P63: He who is guided by Fear, and does good to avoid evil, is not guided by reason.

Dem.: The only affects that are related to the Mind insofar as it acts, i.e. (by IIIP3), that are related to reason, are affects of Joy and [10] Desire (by IIIP59). And so (by Def. Aff. XIII) one who is guided by Fear, and does good from timidity regarding an evil, is not guided by reason, q.e.d.

Schol.: The superstitious know how to reproach people for their [15] vices better than they know how to teach them virtues, and they strive, not to guide men by reason, but to restrain them by Fear, so that they flee the evil rather than love virtues. Such people aim only to make others as wretched as they themselves are, so it is no wonder that they are generally burdensome and hateful to men.

[20] Cor.: By a Desire arising from reason, we directly follow the good, and indirectly flee the evil.

Dem.: For a Desire that arises from reason can arise solely from an affect of Joy which is not a passion (by IIIP59), i.e., from a Joy which [25] cannot be excessive (by P61). But it cannot arise from Sadness, and therefore this Desire (by P8) arises from knowledge of the good, not knowledge of the evil. And so from the guidance of reason we want the good directly, and to that extent only, we flee the evil, q.e.d.

[30] Schol.: This Corollary may be illustrated by the example of the sick and the healthy. The sick man, from timidity regarding death, eats what he is repelled by, whereas the healthy man enjoys his food, and [II/259] in this way enjoys life better than if he feared death, and directly desired to avoid it. Similarly, a judge who condemns a guilty man to death—not from Hate or Anger, etc., but only from a Love of the general welfare—is guided only by reason.

[5] P64: Knowledge of evil is an inadequate knowledge.

Dem.: Knowledge of evil (by P8) is Sadness itself, insofar as we are conscious of it. But Sadness is a passage to a lesser perfection (by Def. [10] Aff. III), which therefore cannot be understood through man’s essence itself (by IIIP6 and P7). Hence (by IIID2), it is a passion, which (by IIIP3) depends on inadequate ideas. Therefore (by IIP29), knowledge of this, viz. knowledge of evil, is inadequate, q.e.d.

[15] Cor.: From this it follows that if the human Mind had only adequate ideas, it would form no notion of evil.

P65: From the guidance of reason, we shall follow the greater of two goods or [20] the lesser of two evils.

Dem.: A good that prevents us from enjoying a greater good is really an evil. For good and evil (as we have shown in the Preface of this Part) are said of things insofar as we compare them to one another. [25] By the same reasoning, a lesser evil is really a good, so (by P63C)33 from the guidance of reason we want, or follow, only the greater good and the lesser evil, q.e.d.

Cor.: From the guidance of reason, we shall follow a lesser evil as [30] a greater good, and pass over a lesser good which is the cause of a greater evil. For the evil which is here called lesser is really good, and [II/260] the good which is here called lesser, on the other hand, is evil. So (by P63C) we want the [lesser evil] and pass over the [greater good], q.e.d.

P66: From the guidance of reason we want a greater future good in preference [5] to a lesser present one, and a lesser present evil in preference to a greater future one.

Dem.: If the Mind could have an adequate knowledge of a future thing, it would be affected toward it with the same affect as it is [10] toward a present one (by P62). So insofar as we attend to reason itself, as in this Proposition we suppose ourselves to do, the thing will be the same, whether the greater good or evil is supposed to be future or present. And therefore (by P65), we want the greater future good in preference to the lesser present one, etc., q.e.d.

[15] Cor.: From the guidance of reason, we shall want a lesser present evil which is the cause of a greater future good, and pass over a lesser present good which is the cause of a greater future evil. This Corollary stands to P66 as P65C does to P65.

[20] Schol.: If these things are compared with those we have shown in this Part up to P18, concerning the powers of the affects, we shall easily see what the difference is between a man who is led only by an affect, or by opinion, and one who is led by reason. For the former, [25] whether he will or no, does those things he is most ignorant of, whereas the latter complies with no one’s wishes but his own, and does only those things he knows to be the most important in life, and therefore desires very greatly. Hence, I call the former a slave, but the latter, a free man.

I wish now to note a few more things concerning the free man’s temperament and manner of living.

[II/261] P67: A free man thinks of nothing less than of death, and his wisdom is a meditation on life, not on death.34

[5] Dem.: A free man, i.e., one who lives according to the dictate of reason alone, is not led by Fear (by P63), but desires the good directly (by P63C), i.e. (by P24), acts, lives, and preserves his being from the foundation of seeking his own advantage. And so he thinks of nothing [10] less than of death. Instead his wisdom is a meditation on life, q.e.d.

P68: If men were born free, they would form no concept of good and evil so long as they remained free.

[15] Dem.: I call him free who is led by reason alone. Therefore, he who is born free, and remains free, has only adequate ideas, and so has no concept of evil (by P64C). And since good and evil are correlates, he also has no concept of good, q.e.d.

[20] Schol.: It is evident from P4 that the hypothesis of this proposition is false, and cannot be conceived unless we attend only to human nature, or rather to God, not insofar as he is infinite, but insofar only as he is the cause of man’s existence.

[25] This, and the other things I have now demonstrated seem to have been indicated by Moses in that story35 of the first man. For in it the only power of God conceived is that by which he created man, i.e., the power by which he consulted only man’s advantage. And so we are told that God prohibited a free man from eating of the tree of [30] knowledge of good and evil, and that as soon as he ate of it, he immediately feared death, rather than desiring to live; and then, that, [II/262] the man having found a wife who agreed completely with his nature, he knew that there could be nothing in nature more useful to him than she was; but that after he believed the lower animals to be like himself, he immediately began to imitate their affects (see IIIP27) and to lose [5] his freedom; and that afterwards this freedom was recovered by the Patriarchs, guided by the Spirit of Christ, i.e., by the idea of God, on which alone it depends that man should be free, and desire for other men the good he desires for himself (as we have demonstrated above, by P37).

[10] P69: The virtue of a free man is seen to be as great in avoiding dangers as in overcoming them.

Dem.: The affects can be neither restrained nor removed except by [15] an affect contrary to and stronger than the affect to be restrained (by P7). But blind Daring and Fear are affects which can be conceived to be equally great (by P3 and P5). Therefore, an equally great virtue of the mind, or strength of character (for the definition of this, see IIIP59S) is required to restrain Daring as to restrain Fear, i.e. (by Defs. Aff. [20] XL and XLI), a free man avoids dangers by the same virtue of the mind by which he tries to overcome them, q.e.d.

Cor.: In a free man, a timely flight is considered to show as much Tenacity as fighting; or a free man chooses flight with the same Tenacity, [25] or presence of mind, as he chooses a contest.

Schol.: I have explained in IIIP59S what Tenacity is, or what I understand by it. And by danger I understand whatever can be the [30] cause of some evil, such as Sadness, Hate, Discord, etc.

P70: A free man who lives among the ignorant strives, as far as he can, to avoid their favors.

[II/263] Dem.: Everyone judges according to his own temperament what is good (see IIIP39). Someone who is ignorant, therefore, and who has conferred a favor on someone else, will value it according to his own temperament, and will be saddened if he sees it valued less by him to [5] whom it was given (by IIIP42). But a free man strives to join other men to him in friendship (by P37), not to repay men with benefits that are equivalent in their eyes, but to lead himself and the others by the free judgment of reason, and to do only those things that he himself knows to be most excellent. Therefore, a free man will strive, as [10] far as he can, to avoid the favors of the ignorant, so as not to be hated by them, and at the same time to yield only to reason, not to their appetite, q.e.d.

Schol.: I say as far as he can. For though men may be ignorant, they are still men, who in situations of need can bring human aid. And [15] there is no better aid than that. So it often happens that it is necessary to accept favors from them, and hence to return thanks to them according to their temperament [i.e., in a way they will appreciate].

To this we may add that we must be careful in declining favors, so that we do not seem to disdain them, or out of Greed to be afraid of [20] repayment. For in that way, in the very act of avoiding their Hate, we would incur it. So in declining favors we must take account both of what is useful and of what is honorable.

P71: Only free men are very thankful to one another.

[25] Dem.: Only free men are very useful to one another, are joined to one another by the greatest necessity of friendship (by P35 and P35C1), and strive to benefit one another with equal eagerness for love (by P37). So (by Def. Aff. XXXIV) only free men are very thankful to [30] one another, q.e.d.

Schol.: The thankfulness which men are led by blind Desire to [II/264] display toward one another is for the most part a business transaction or an entrapment, rather than thankfulness.

Again, ingratitude is not an affect. Nevertheless, ingratitude is dishonorable because it generally indicates that the man is affected with too much Hate, Anger, Pride, or Greed, etc. For one who, out of [5] foolishness, does not know how to reckon one gift against another, is not ungrateful; much less one who is not moved by the gifts of a courtesan to assist her lust,36 nor by those of a thief to conceal his thefts, nor by those of anyone else like that. On the contrary, he shows firmness of mind who does not allow any gifts to corrupt him, to his or to the general ruin.

[10] P72: A free man always acts honestly, not deceptively.

Dem.: If a free man, insofar as he is free, did anything by deception, he would do it from the dictate of reason (for so far only do we [15] call him free). And so it would be a virtue to act deceptively (by P24), and hence (by the same Prop.), everyone would be better advised to act deceptively to preserve his being. I.e. (as is known through itself), men would be better advised to agree only in words, and be contrary to one another in fact. But this is absurd (by P31C). Therefore, a free [20] man etc., q.e.d.

Schol.: Suppose someone now asks: what if a man could save himself from the present danger of death by treachery? would not the principle of preserving his own being recommend, without qualification, that he be treacherous?

The reply to this is the same. If reason should recommend that, it [25] would recommend it to all men.37 And so reason would recommend, without qualification, that men make agreements, join forces, and have common rights only by deception—i.e., that really they have no common rights. This is absurd.

[30] P73: A man who is guided by reason is more free in a state, where he lives according to a common decision, than in solitude, where he obeys only himself.

[II/265] Dem.: A man who is guided by reason is not led to obey by Fear (by P63), but insofar as he strives to preserve his being from the dictate [5] of reason, i.e. (by P66S), insofar as he strives to live freely, desires to maintain the principle of common life and common advantage (by P37). Consequently (as we have shown in P37S2), he desires to live according to the common decision of the state. Therefore, a man who is guided by reason desires, in order to live more freely, to keep the common laws of the state, q.e.d.

[10] Schol.: These and similar things which we have shown concerning the true freedom of man are related to Strength of Character, i.e. (by IIIP59S), to Tenacity and Nobility. I do not consider it worthwhile to demonstrate separately here all the properties of Strength of Character, [15] much less that a man strong in character hates no one, is angry with no one, envies no one, is indignant with no one, scorns no one, and is not at all proud. For these and all things which relate to true life and Religion are easily proven from P37 and P46, viz. that Hate is to be conquered by returning Love, and that everyone who is led [20] by reason desires for others also the good he wants for himself.

To this we may add what we have noted in P50S and in other places: a man strong in character considers this most of all, that all things follow from the necessity of the divine nature, and hence, that whatever he thinks is troublesome and evil, and moreover, whatever [25] seems immoral, dreadful, unjust, and dishonorable, arises from the fact that he conceives the things themselves in a way that is disordered, mutilated, and confused. For this reason, he strives most of all to conceive things as they are in themselves, and to remove the obstacles to true knowledge, like Hate, Anger, Envy, Mockery, Pride, and [30] the rest of the things we have noted in the preceding pages.

And so, as we have said [II/47/21], he strives, as far as he can, to act well and rejoice. In the following Part I shall demonstrate how far human virtue can go in the attainment of these things, and what it is capable of.

[II/266] APPENDIX

The things I have taught in this Part concerning the right way of living have not been so arranged that they could be seen at a glance. Instead, I have demonstrated them at one place or another, as I could more easily deduce one [5] from another. So I have undertaken to collect them here and bring them under main headings.

I. All our strivings, or Desires, follow from the necessity of our nature in such a way that they can be understood either through it [10] alone, as through their proximate cause, or insofar as we are a part of nature, which cannot be conceived adequately through itself without other individuals.

II. The Desires which follow from our nature in such a way that [15] they can be understood through it alone are those that are related to the Mind insofar as it is conceived to consist of adequate ideas. The remaining Desires are not related to the Mind except insofar as it conceives things inadequately, and their force and growth must be [20] defined not by human power, but by the power of things that are outside us. The former, therefore, are rightly called actions, while the latter are rightly called passions. For the former always indicate our power, whereas the latter indicate our lack of power and mutilated knowledge.

[25] III. Our actions—i.e., those Desires that are defined by man’s power, or reason—are always good; but the other [Desires] can be both good and evil.

[II/267] IV. In life, therefore, it is especially useful to perfect, as far as we can, our intellect, or reason. In this one thing consists man’s highest [5] happiness, or blessedness. Indeed, blessedness is nothing but that satisfaction of mind that stems from the intuitive knowledge of God. But perfecting the intellect is nothing but understanding God, his attributes, and his actions, which follow from the necessity of his nature. [10] So the ultimate end of the man who is led by reason, i.e., his highest Desire, by which he strives to moderate all the others, is that by which he is led to conceive adequately both himself and all things that can fall under his understanding.

[15] V. No life, then, is rational without understanding, and things are good only insofar as they aid man to enjoy the life of the Mind, which is defined by understanding. On the other hand, those that prevent man from being able to perfect his reason and enjoy the rational life, [20] those only we say are evil.

VI. But because all those things of which man is the efficient cause must be good, nothing evil can happen to a man except by external causes, viz. insofar as he is a part of the whole of nature, whose laws [25] human nature is compelled to obey, and to which it is forced to accommodate itself in ways nearly infinite.

[II/268] VII. It is impossible for man not to be a part of nature and not to follow the common order of nature. But if he lives among such individuals [5] as agree with his nature, his power of acting will thereby be aided and encouraged. On the other hand, if he is among such as do not agree at all with his nature, he will hardly be able to accommodate himself to them without greatly changing himself.

[10] VIII. It is permissible for us to avert, in the way that seems safest, whatever there is in nature that we judge to be evil, or able to prevent us from being able to exist and enjoy a rational life. On the other hand, we may take for our own use, and use in any way, whatever [15] there is that we judge to be good, or useful for preserving our being and enjoying a rational life. And absolutely, it is permissible for everyone to do, by the highest right of nature, what he judges will contribute to his advantage.

[20] IX. Nothing can agree more with the nature of any thing than other individuals of the same species. And so (by VII) nothing is more useful to man in preserving his being and enjoying a rational life than a man who is guided by reason. Again, because, among singular things, we know nothing more excellent than a man who is guided by reason, [II/269] we can show best how much our skill and understanding are worth by educating men so that at last they live according to the command of their own reason.

X. Insofar as men are moved against one another by Envy or some [5] [NS: other] affect of Hate, they are contrary to one another, and consequently are the more to be feared, as they can do more than other individuals in nature.

XI. Minds, however, are conquered not by arms, but by Love and [10] Nobility.

XII. It is especially useful to men to form associations, to bind themselves by those bonds most apt to make one people of them, and [15] absolutely, to do those things which serve to strengthen friendships.

XIII. But skill and alertness are required for this. For men vary—there being few who live according to the rule of reason—and yet generally they are envious, and more inclined to vengeance than to [20] Compassion. So it requires a singular power of mind to bear with each one according to his understanding, and to restrain oneself from imitating their affects.

But those who know how to find fault with men, to castigate vices rather than teach virtues, and to break men’s minds rather than [25] strengthen them—they are burdensome both to themselves and to others. That is why many, from too great an impatience of mind, and a false [II/270] zeal for religion, have preferred to live among the lower animals rather than among men. They are like boys or young men who cannot bear calmly the scolding of their parents, and take refuge in the army.38 They choose the inconveniences of war and the discipline of an absolute [5] commander in preference to the conveniences of home and the admonitions of a father; and while they take vengeance on their parents, they allow all sorts of burdens to be placed on them.

XIV. Though men, therefore, generally direct everything according [10] to their own lust, nevertheless, more advantages than disadvantages follow from their forming a common society. So it is better to bear men’s wrongs calmly, and apply one’s zeal to those things that help to bring men together in harmony and friendship.

[15] XV. The things that beget harmony are those which are related to justice, fairness, and being honorable. For men find it difficult to bear, not only what is unjust and unfair, but also what is thought dishonorable, [20] or that someone rejects the accepted practices of the state. But especially necessary to bring people together in love, are the things which concern Religion and Morality. On this, see P37S1 and S2, P46S, and P73S.

[25] XVI. Harmony is also commonly born of Fear, but then it is without trust. Add to this that Fear arises from weakness of mind, and [II/271] therefore does not pertain to the exercise of reason. Nor does Pity, though it seems to present the appearance of Morality.

[5] XVII. Men are also won over by generosity, especially those who do not have the means of acquiring the things they require to sustain life. But to bring aid to everyone in need far surpasses the powers and advantage of a private person. For his riches are quite unequal to the [10] task. Moreover the capacity of one man39 is too limited for him to be able to unite all men to him in friendship. So the case of the poor falls upon society as a whole, and concerns only the general advantage.

[15] XVIII. In accepting favors and returning thanks an altogether different care must be taken. See P70S, and P71S.

XIX. A purely sensual love,40 moreover, i.e., a lust to procreate that arises from external appearance, and absolutely, all love that has [20] a cause other than freedom of mind, easily passes into hate—unless (which is worse) it is a species of madness. And then it is encouraged more by discord than by harmony. See IIIP31C.41

[25] XX. As for marriage, it certainly agrees with reason, if the Desire for physical union is not generated only by external appearance but [II/272] also by a Love of begetting children and educating them wisely, and moreover, if the Love of each, of both the man and the woman, is caused not by external appearance only, but mainly by freedom of mind.

[5] XXI. Flattery also gives rise to harmony, but by the foul crime of bondage, or by treachery. No one is more taken in by flattery than the proud, who wish to be first and are not.

[10] XXII. In Despondency, there is a false appearance of morality and religion. And though Despondency is the opposite of Pride, still the despondent man is very near the proud. See P57S.

XXIII. Shame, moreover, contributes to harmony only in those [15] things that cannot be hidden. Again, because Shame itself is a species of Sadness, it does not belong to the exercise of reason.

XXIV. The other affects of Sadness toward men are directly opposed to justice, fairness, being honorable, morality, and religion. And [20] though Indignation seems to present an appearance of fairness, nevertheless, when each one is allowed to pass judgment on another’s deeds, and to enforce either his own or another’s right, we live without a law.

[25] XXV. Courtesy, i.e., the Desire to please men which is determined [II/273] by reason, is related to Morality (as we said in P37S1). But if it arises from an affect, it is Ambition, or a Desire by which men generally arouse discord and seditions, from a false appearance of morality. For [5] one who desires to aid others by advice or by action, so that they may enjoy the highest good together, will aim chiefly at arousing their Love for him, but not at leading them into admiration so that his teaching will be called after his name.42 Nor will he give any cause for Envy. [10] Again, in common conversations he will beware of relating men’s vices, and will take care to speak only sparingly of a man’s lack of power, but generously of the man’s virtue, or power, and how it can be perfected, so that men, moved not by Fear or aversion, but only by an affect of Joy, may strive to live as far as they can according to the rule [15] of reason.

XXVI. Apart from men we know no singular thing in nature whose Mind we can enjoy, and which we can join to ourselves in friendship, or some kind of association. And so whatever there is in nature apart [20] from men, the principle of seeking our own advantage does not demand that we preserve it. Instead, it teaches us to preserve or destroy it according to its use, or to adapt it to our use in any way whatever.

[25] XXVII. The principal advantage which we derive from things outside us—apart from the experience and knowledge we acquire from observing them and changing them from one form into another—lies [II/274] in the preservation of our body. That is why those things are most useful to us which can feed and maintain it, so that all its parts can perform their function properly. For the more the Body is capable of [5] affecting, and being affected by, external bodies in a great many ways, the more the Mind is capable of thinking (see P38 and P39).

But there seem to be very few things of this kind in nature. So to nourish the body in the way required, it is necessary to use many [10] different kinds of food. Indeed, the human Body is composed of a great many parts of different natures, which require continuous and varied food so that the whole Body may be equally capable of doing everything which can follow from its nature, and consequently, so that the Mind may also be equally capable of conceiving many things.

[15] XXVIII. But to achieve these things the powers of each man would hardly be sufficient if men did not help one another. And indeed, money has provided a convenient instrument for acquiring all these aids. That is why its image usually occupies the Mind of the multitude [20] more than anything else. For they can imagine hardly any species of Joy without the accompanying idea of money as its cause.

XXIX. But this is a vice only in those who seek money neither from need nor on account of necessities, but because they have learned the [25] art of making money and pride themselves on it very much. As for the body, they feed it according to custom, but sparingly, because [II/275] they believe they lose as much of their goods as they devote to the preservation of their Body. Those, however, who know the true use of money, and set bounds to their wealth according to need, live contentedly with little.

[5] XXX. Since those things are good which assist the parts of the Body to perform their function, and Joy consists in the fact that man’s power, insofar as he consists of Mind and Body, is aided or increased, all [10] things that bring Joy are good. Nevertheless, since things do not act in order to affect us with Joy, and their power of acting is not regulated by our advantage, and finally, since Joy is generally related particularly to one part of the body, most affects of Joy are excessive [15] (unless reason and alertness are present). Hence, the Desires generated by them are also excessive. To this we may add that when we follow our affects, we value most the pleasures of the moment,43 and cannot appraise future things with an equal affect of mind. See P44S and P60S.

[20] XXXI. Superstition, on the other hand, seems to maintain that the good is what brings Sadness, and the evil, what brings Joy. But as we have already said (see P45S), no one, unless he is envious, takes pleasure [25] in my lack of power and misfortune. For as we are affected with a greater Joy, we pass to a greater perfection, and consequently participate more in the divine nature. Nor can Joy which is governed by [II/276] the true principle of our advantage ever be evil. On the other hand, he who is led by Fear, and does the good only to avoid the evil, is not governed by reason.

[5] XXXII. But human power is very limited and infinitely surpassed by the power of external causes. So we do not have an absolute power to adapt things outside us to our use. Nevertheless, we shall bear calmly those things which happen to us contrary to what the principle [10] of our advantage demands, if we are conscious that we have done our duty, that the power we have could not have extended itself to the point where we could have avoided those things, and that we are a part of the whole of nature, whose order we follow. If we understand [15] this clearly and distinctly, that part of us which is defined by understanding, i.e., the better part of us, will be entirely satisfied with this, and will strive to persevere in that satisfaction. For insofar as we understand, we can want nothing except what is necessary, nor absolutely be satisfied with anything except what is true. Hence, insofar [20] as we understand these things rightly, the striving of the better part of us agrees with the order of the whole of nature.

[II/277] Fifth Part of the Ethics On the Power of the Intellect, [5] or on Human Freedom

PREFACE

I pass, finally, to the remaining Part of the Ethics,1 which concerns the means, or way, leading to Freedom. Here, then, I shall treat of the power of reason, [10] showing what it can do against the affects, and what Freedom of Mind, or blessedness, is. From this we shall see how much more the wise man can do than the ignorant. But it does not pertain to this investigation to show how the intellect must be perfected, or in what way the Body must be cared for, so [15] that it can perform its function properly. The former is the concern of Logic, and the latter of Medicine.2

Here, then, as I have said, I shall treat only of the power of the Mind, or of reason, and shall show, above all, how great its dominion over the affects is, and what kind of dominion it has for restraining and moderating them. For we have already demonstrated above that it does not have an absolute [20] dominion over them. Nevertheless, the Stoics thought that they depend entirely on our will, and that we can command them absolutely. But experience cries out against this, and has forced them, in spite of their principles, to confess that much practice and application are required to restrain and moderate them. If [25] I remember rightly, someone tried to show this by the example of two dogs, one [II/278] a house dog, the other a hunting dog. For by practice he was finally able to bring it about that the house dog was accustomed to hunt, and the hunting dog to refrain from chasing hares.

Descartes was rather inclined to this opinion. For he maintained that the [5] Soul, or Mind, was especially united to a certain part of the brain, called the pineal gland, by whose aid the Mind is aware of all the motions aroused in the body and of external objects, and which the Mind can move in various ways simply by willing. He contended that this gland was suspended in the middle of the brain in such a way that it could be moved by the least motion of the [10] animal spirits. He maintained further that this gland is suspended in the middle of the brain in as many varying ways as there are varying ways that the animal spirits strike against it, and moreover, that as many varying traces are impressed upon it as there are varying external objects which drive the animal [15] spirits against it. That is why, if the Soul’s will afterwards moves the gland so that it is suspended as it once was by the motion of the animal spirits, the gland will drive and determine the animal spirits in the same way as when they were driven back before by a similar placement of the gland.

[20] Furthermore, he maintained that each will of the Mind is united by nature to a certain fixed motion of this gland. For example, if someone has a will to look at a distant object, this will brings it about that the pupil is dilated. But if he thinks only of the pupil which is to be dilated, nothing will be accomplished by having a will for this, because nature has not joined the motion of the gland [25] which serves to drive the animal spirits against the Optic nerve in a way suitable for dilating or contracting the pupil with the will to dilate or contract it. Instead, it has joined that motion with the will to look at distant or near objects.

Finally, he maintained that even though each motion of this gland seems to [II/279] have been connected by nature from the beginning of our life with a particular one of our thoughts, they can still be joined by habit to others. He tries to prove this in The Passions of the Soul I, 50.

From these claims, he infers that there is no Soul so weak that it cannot—when [5] it is well directed—acquire an absolute power over its Passions. For as he defines them, these are

… perceptions, or feelings, or emotions of the soul, which are particularly related to the soul, and which [NB] are produced, preserved, and strengthened by some motion of the spirits (see The Passions of the Soul I, 27).3

[10] But since to any will we can join any motion of the gland (and consequently any motion of the spirits), and since the determination of the will depends only on our power, we shall acquire an absolute dominion over our Passions, if we determine our will by firm and certain judgments according to which we will [15] to direct the actions of our life, and if we join to these judgments the motions of the passions we will to have.4

Such is the opinion of that most distinguished Man—as far as I can gather it from his words. I would hardly have believed it had been propounded by so great a Man, had it not been so subtle. Indeed, I cannot wonder enough that [20] a Philosopher of his caliber—one who had firmly decided to deduce nothing except from principles known through themselves, and to affirm nothing which he did not perceive clearly and distinctly, one who had so often censured the Scholastics for wishing to explain obscure things by occult qualities—that such a Philosopher should assume a Hypothesis more occult than any occult quality.5

[25] What, I ask, does he understand by the union of Mind and Body? What clear and distinct concept does he have of a thought so closely united to some little portion of quantity? Indeed, I wish he had explained this union by its [II/280] proximate cause. But he had conceived the Mind to be so distinct from the Body that he could not assign any singular cause, either of this union or of the Mind itself. Instead, it was necessary for him to have recourse to the cause of the whole Universe, i.e., to God.

Again, I should like very much to know how many degrees of motion the [5] Mind can give to that pineal gland, and how great a force is required to hold it in suspense. For I do not know whether this gland is driven about more slowly by the Mind than by the animal spirits, or more quickly; nor do I know whether the motions of the Passions which we have joined closely to firm judgments can be separated from them again by corporeal causes. If so, it would [10] follow that although the Mind had firmly resolved to face dangers, and had joined the motions of daring to this decision, nevertheless, once the danger had been seen, the gland might be so suspended that the Mind could think only of flight. And of course, since there is no common measure between the will and motion, there is also no comparison between the power, or forces, of the Mind [15] and those of the Body. Consequently, the forces of the Body cannot in any way be determined by those of the Mind.

To this we may add that this gland is not found to be so placed in the middle of the brain that it can be driven about so easily and in so many ways, and that not all the nerves extend to the cavities of the brain.6

[20] Finally, I pass over all those things he claimed about the will and its freedom, since I have already shown, more than adequately, that they are false.

Therefore, because the power of the Mind is defined only by understanding, as I have shown above, we shall determine, by the Mind’s knowledge alone, the remedies for the affects.7 I believe everyone in fact knows them by experience, [25] though they neither observe them accurately, nor see them distinctly. From that we shall deduce all those things which concern the Mind’s blessedness.

[II/281] AXIOMS

A1: If two contrary actions are aroused in the same subject, a change will have to occur, either in both of them, or in one only, until they cease to be contrary.

[5] A2: The power of an effect is defined by the power of its cause, insofar as its essence is explained or defined by the essence of its cause.

This axiom is evident from IIIP7.

[10] P1: In just the same way as thoughts and ideas of things are ordered and connected in the Mind, so the affections of the body, or images of things are ordered and connected in the body.

Dem.: The order and connection of ideas is the same as the order [15] and connection of things (by IIP7), and vice versa, the order and connection of things is the same as the order and connection of ideas (by IIP6C and P7). So just as the order and connection of ideas happens in the Mind according to the order and connection of affections of the Body (by IIP18), so vice versa (by IIIP2), the order and connection of [20] affections of the Body happens as thoughts and ideas of things are ordered and connected in the Mind, q.e.d.

P2: If we separate emotions, or affects,8 from the thought of an external cause, [25] and join them to other thoughts, then the Love, or Hate, toward the external cause is destroyed, as are the vacillations of mind arising from these affects.

[II/282] Dem.: For what constitutes the form of Love, or Hate, is Joy, or Sadness, accompanied by the idea of an external cause (by Defs. Aff. VI, VII). So if this is taken away, the form of Love or Hate is taken away at the same time. Hence, these affects, and those arising from [5] them, are destroyed, q.e.d.

P3: An affect which is a passion ceases to be a passion as soon as we form a clear and distinct idea of it.

[10] Dem.: An affect which is a passion is a confused idea (by Gen. Def. Aff.). Therefore, if we should form a clear and distinct idea of the affect itself, this idea will only be distinguished by reason from the affect itself, insofar as it is related only to the Mind (by IIP21 and P21S). Therefore (by IIIP3), the affect will cease to be a passion, [15] q.e.d.

Cor.: The more an affect is known to us, then, the more it is in our power, and the less the Mind is acted on by it.

[20] P4: There is no affection of the Body of which we cannot form a clear and distinct concept.

Dem.: Those things that are common to all can only be conceived [25] adequately (by IIP38), and so (by IIP12 and L2 [II/98]) there is no affection of the Body of which we cannot form some clear and distinct concept, q.e.d.

Cor.: From this it follows that there is no affect of which we cannot [30] form some clear and distinct concept. For an affect is an idea of an [II/283] affection of the Body (by Gen. Def. Aff.), which therefore (by P4) must involve some clear and distinct concept.

[5] Schol.: There is nothing from which some effect does not follow (by IP36), and we understand clearly and distinctly whatever follows from an idea which is adequate in us (by IIP40); hence, each of us has—in part, at least, if not absolutely—the power to understand himself [10] and his affects, and consequently, the power to bring it about that he is less acted on by them.

We must, therefore, take special care to know each affect clearly and distinctly (as far as this is possible), so that in this way the Mind may be determined from an affect to thinking those things which it perceives clearly and distinctly, and with which it is fully satisfied, [15] and so that the affect itself may be separated from the thought of an external cause and joined to true thoughts. The result will be not only that Love, Hate, etc., are destroyed (by P2), but also that the appetites, or Desires, which usually arise from such an affect, cannot be excessive (by IVP61).

For it must particularly be noted that the appetite by which a man [20] is said to act, and that by which he is said to be acted on, are one and the same. For example, we have shown that human nature is so constituted that each of us wants the others to live according to his temperament (see IIIP31S).9 And indeed, in a man who is not led by reason this appetite is the passion called Ambition, which does not [25] differ much from Pride. On the other hand, in a man who lives according to the dictate of reason it is the action, or virtue, called Morality (see IVP37S1 and P37 Alternate dem.).

In this way, all the appetites, or Desires, are passions only insofar as they arise from inadequate ideas, and are counted as virtues when [30] they are aroused or generated by adequate ideas. For all the Desires by which we are determined to do something can arise as much from adequate ideas as from inadequate ones (by IVP59). And—to return to the point from which I have digressed—we can devise no other [35] remedy for the affects which depends on our power and is more excellent [II/284] than this, which consists in a true knowledge of them. For the Mind has no other power than that of thinking and forming adequate ideas, as we have shown (by IIIP3) above.

[5] P5: The greatest affect of all, other things equal, is one toward a thing we imagine simply, and neither as necessary, nor as possible, nor as contingent.

Dem.: An affect toward a thing we imagine to be free is greater [10] than that toward a thing we imagine to be necessary (by IIIP49), and consequently is still greater than that toward a thing we imagine as possible or contingent (by IVP11). But imagining a thing as free can be nothing but simply imagining it while we are ignorant of the causes [15] by which it has been determined to act (by what we have shown in IIP35S). Therefore, an affect toward a thing we imagine simply is, other things equal, greater than that toward a thing we imagine as necessary, possible, or contingent. Hence, it is the greatest of all, q.e.d.

[20] P6: Insofar as the Mind understands all things as necessary, it has a greater power over the affects, or is less acted on by them.

Dem.: The Mind understands all things to be necessary (by IP29), [25] and to be determined by an infinite connection of causes to exist and produce effects (by IP28). And so (by P5) to that extent [the mind] brings it about that it is less acted on by the affects springing from these things, and (by IIIP48) is less affected toward them, q.e.d.

[30] Schol.: The more this knowledge that things are necessary is concerned [II/285] with singular things, which we imagine more distinctly and vividly, the greater is this power of the Mind over the affects, as experience itself also testifies. For we see that Sadness over some good which has perished is lessened as soon as the man who has lost it [5] realizes that this good could not, in any way, have been kept. Similarly, we see that no one pities infants because of their inability to speak, to walk, or to reason, or because they live so many years, as it were, unconscious of themselves. But if most people were born grown up, and only one or two were born infants, then everyone would pity [10] the infants, because they would regard infancy itself, not as a natural and necessary thing, but as a vice of nature, or a sin. We could point out many other things along this line.

P7: Affects that arise from, or are aroused by, reason are, if we take account [15] of time, more powerful than those that are related to singular things which we regard as absent.

Dem.: We regard a thing as absent, not because of the affect by which we imagine it, but because the Body is affected by another [20] affect which excludes the thing’s existence (by IIP17). So an affect which is related to a thing we regard as absent is not of such a nature that it surpasses men’s other actions and power (see IVP6); on the contrary, its nature is such that it can, in some measure, be restrained [25] by those affections which exclude the existence of its external cause (by IVP9). But an affect that arises from reason is necessarily related to the common properties of things (see the Def. of reason in IIP40S2), which we always regard as present (for there can be nothing which excludes their present existence) and which we always imagine in the [30] same way (by IIP38).10 So such an affect will always remain the same, and hence (by A1), the affects that are contrary to it, and that are not encouraged by their external causes, will have to accommodate themselves [II/286] to it more and more, until they are no longer contrary to it. To that extent, an affect arising from reason is more powerful, q.e.d.

P8: The more an affect arises from a number of causes concurring together, the [5] greater it is.

Dem.: A number of causes together can do more than if they were fewer (by IIIP7). And so (by IVP5), the more an affect is aroused by a number of causes together, the stronger it is, q.e.d.

[10] Schol.: This proposition is also evident from A2.

P9: If an affect is related to more and different causes which the Mind considers [15] together with the affect itself, it is less harmful, we are less acted on by it, and we are affected less toward each cause, than is the case with another, equally great affect, which is related only to one cause, or to fewer causes.

Dem.: An affect is only evil, or harmful, insofar as it prevents the [20] Mind from being able to think (by IVP26 and P27). And so that affect which determines the Mind to consider many objects together is less harmful than another, equally great affect which engages the Mind solely in considering one, or a few objects, so that it cannot think of others. This was the first point.

[25] Next, because the Mind’s essence, i.e., power (by IIIP7), consists only in thought (by IIP11), the Mind is less acted on by an affect which determines it to consider many things together than by an equally great affect which keeps the Mind engaged solely in considering one [30] or a few objects. This was the second point.

[II/287] Finally (by IIIP48), insofar as this affect is related to many external causes, it is also less toward each one, q.e.d.

P10: So long as we are not torn by affects contrary to our nature, we have [5] the power of ordering and connecting the affections of the Body according to the order of the intellect.

Dem.: Affects which are contrary to our nature, i.e. (by IVP30), [10] which are evil, are evil insofar as they prevent the Mind from understanding (by IVP27). Therefore, so long as we are not torn by affects contrary to our nature, the power of the Mind by which it strives to understand things (by IVP26) is not hindered. So long, then, the Mind [15] has the power of forming clear and distinct ideas, and of deducing some from others (see IIP40S2 and P47S). And hence, so long do we have (by P1) the power of ordering and connecting the affections of the Body according to the order of the intellect, q.e.d.

[20] Schol.: By this power of rightly ordering and connecting the affections of the Body, we can bring it about that we are not easily affected with evil affects. For (by P7) a greater force is required for restraining Affects ordered and connected according to the order of the intellect than for restraining those which are uncertain and random. The best [25] thing, then, that we can do, so long as we do not have perfect knowledge of our affects, is to conceive a correct principle of living, or sure maxims of life, to commit them to memory, and to apply them constantly to the particular cases frequently encountered in life. In this way our imagination will be extensively affected by them, and we shall always have them ready.

[30] For example, we have laid it down as a maxim of life (see IVP46 and P46S) that Hate is to be conquered by Love, or Nobility, not by repaying it with Hate in return. But in order that we may always [II/288] have this rule of reason ready when it is needed, we ought to think about and meditate frequently on the common wrongs of men, and how they may be warded off best by Nobility. For if we join the image of a wrong to the imagination of this maxim, it will always be [5] ready for us (by IIP18) when a wrong is done to us. If we have ready also the principle of our own true advantage, and also of the good which follows from mutual friendship and common society, and keep in mind, moreover, that the highest satisfaction of mind stems from the right principle of living (by IVP52), and that men, like other things, [10] act from the necessity of nature, then the wrong, or the Hate usually arising from it, will occupy a very small part of the imagination, and will easily be overcome.

Or if the Anger which usually arises from the greatest wrongs is not so easily overcome, it will still be overcome, though not without some vacillation. And it will be overcome in far less time than if we [15] had not considered these things beforehand in this way (as is evident from P6, P7, and P8).

To put aside Fear, we must think in the same way of Tenacity: i.e., we must recount and frequently imagine the common dangers of life, and how they can be best avoided and overcome by presence of mind and strength of character.

[20] But it should be noted that in ordering our thoughts and images, we must always (by IVP63C and IIIP59) attend to those things which are good in each thing so that in this way we are always determined to acting from an affect of Joy. For example, if someone sees that he pursues esteem too much, he should think of its correct use, the end [25] for which it ought be pursued, and the means by which it can be acquired, not of its misuse and emptiness, and men’s inconstancy, or other things of this kind, which only someone sick of mind thinks of. For those who are most ambitious are most upset by such thoughts when they despair of attaining the honor they strive for; while they spew forth their Anger, they wish to seem wise. So it is certain that [30] they most desire esteem who cry out most against its misuse, and the emptiness of the world.

Nor is this peculiar to the ambitious—it is common to everyone whose luck is bad and whose mind is weak. For the poor man, when he is also greedy, will not stop talking about the misuse of money and the vices of the rich. In doing this he only distresses himself, and [35] shows others that he cannot bear calmly either his own poverty, or [II/289] the wealth of others.

So also, one who has been badly received by a lover thinks of nothing but the inconstancy and deceptiveness of women, and their other, often sung vices. All of these he immediately forgets as soon as his lover receives him again.11

[5] One, therefore, who is anxious to moderate his affects and appetites from the love of Freedom alone will strive, as far as he can, to come to know the virtues and their causes, and to fill his mind with the gladness which arises from the true knowledge of them, but not at all to consider men’s vices, or to disparage men, or to enjoy a false appearance [10] of freedom. And he who will observe these [rules] carefully—for they are not difficult—and practice them, will soon be able to direct most of his actions according to the command of reason.

[15] P11: As an image is related to more things, the more frequent it is, or the more often it flourishes, and the more it engages the Mind.

Dem.: For as an image, or affect, is related to more things, there are more causes by which it can be aroused and encouraged, all of [20] which the Mind (by Hypothesis) considers together with the affect. And so the affect is the more frequent, or flourishes more often, and (by P8) engages the Mind more, q.e.d.

P12: The images of things are more easily joined to images related to things [25] we understand clearly and distinctly than to other images.

Dem.: Things we understand clearly and distinctly are either common properties of things or deduced from them (see the Def. of reason in IIP40S2), and consequently (by P11) are aroused in us more often. [30] And so it can more easily happen that we consider other things together with them rather than with [things we do not understand clearly and distinctly]. Hence (by IIP18), [images of things] are more easily [II/290] joined with [things we understand clearly and distinctly] than with others, q.e.d.

P13: The more an image is joined with other images, the more often it flourishes.

[5] Dem.: For the more an image is joined with other images, the more causes there are (by IIP18) by which it can be aroused, q.e.d.

P14: The Mind can bring it about that all the Body’s affections, or images of [10] things, are related to the idea of God.

Dem.: There is no affection of the Body of which the Mind cannot form some clear and distinct concept (by P4). And so it can bring it [15] about (by IP15) that they are related to the idea of God, q.e.d.

P15: He who understands himself and his affects clearly and distinctly loves God, and does so the more, the more he understands himself and his affects.

[20] Dem.: He who understands himself and his affects clearly and distinctly rejoices (by IIIP53), and this Joy is accompanied by the idea of God (by P14). Hence (by Def. Aff. VI), he loves God, and (by the same reasoning) does so the more, the more he understands himself and his affects, q.e.d.

[25] P16: This Love toward God must engage the Mind most.

Dem.: For this Love is joined to all the affections of the Body (by [II/291] P14), which all encourage it (by P15). And so (by P11), it must engage the Mind most, q.e.d.

[5] P17: God is without passions, and is not affected with any affect of Joy or Sadness.

Dem.: All ideas, insofar as they are related to God, are true (by [10] IIP32), i.e. (by IID4), adequate. And so (by Gen. Def. Aff.), God is without passions.

Next, God can pass neither to a greater nor a lesser perfection, (by IP20C2); hence (by Defs. Aff. II, III) he is not affected with any affect of Joy or Sadness, q.e.d.

[15] Cor.: Strictly speaking, God loves no one, and hates no one. For God (by P17) is not affected with any affect of Joy or Sadness. Consequently (by Defs. Aff. VI, VII), he also loves no one and hates no one.

[20] P18: No one can hate God.

Dem.: The idea of God which is in us is adequate and perfect (by IIP46, P47). So insofar as we consider God, we act (by IIIP3). Consequently [25] (by IIIP59), there can be no Sadness accompanied by the idea of God, i.e. (by Def. Aff. VII), no one can hate God, q.e.d.

Cor.: Love toward God cannot be turned into hate.

[30] Schol.: But, it can be objected, while we understand God to be the [II/292] cause of all things, we thereby consider God to be the cause of Sadness. To this I reply that insofar as we understand the causes of Sadness, it ceases (by P3) to be a passion, i.e. (by IIIP59), to that extent it ceases to be Sadness. And so, insofar as we understand God to be [5] the cause of Sadness, we rejoice.

P19: He who loves God cannot strive that God should love him in return.

[10] Dem.: If a man were to strive for this, he would desire (by P17C) that God, whom he loves, not be God. Consequently (by IIIP19), he would desire to be saddened, which is absurd (by IIIP28). Therefore, he who loves God, etc., q.e.d.

[15] P20: This Love toward God cannot be tainted by an affect of Envy or Jealousy: instead, the more men we imagine to be joined to God by the same bond of Love, the more it is encouraged.

Dem.: This Love toward God is the highest good which we can [20] want from the dictate of reason (by IVP28), and is common to all men (by IVP36); we desire that all should enjoy it (by IVP37). And so (by Def. Aff. XXIII), it cannot be stained by an affect of Envy, nor (by P18 and the Def. of Jealousy, see IIIP35S) by an affect of Jealousy. [25] On the contrary (by IIIP31), the more men we imagine to enjoy it, the more it must be encouraged, q.e.d.

Schol.: Similarly we can show that there is no affect which is directly [30] contrary to this Love and by which it can be destroyed. So we [II/293] can conclude that this Love is the most constant of all the affects, and insofar as it is related to the Body, cannot be destroyed, unless it is destroyed with the Body itself. What the nature of this Love is insofar as it is related only to the Mind, we shall see later.

And with this, I have covered all the remedies for the affects, or all [5] that the Mind, considered only in itself, can do against the affects. From this it is clear that the power of the Mind over the affects consists:

I. In the knowledge itself of the affects (see P4S);

II. In the fact that it separates the affects from the thought of an external cause, which we imagine confusedly (see P2 and P4S);

[10] III. In the time by which the affections related to things we understand surpass those related to things we conceive confusedly, or in a mutilated way (see P7);

IV. In the multiplicity of causes by which affections related to common properties or to God are encouraged (see P9 and P11);

[15] V. Finally,12 in the order by which the Mind can order its affects and connect them to one another (see P10, and in addition, P12, P13, and P14).

But to understand better this power of the Mind over the affects, the most important thing to note is that we call affects great when we [20] compare the affect of one man with that of another, and see that the same affect troubles one more than the other, or when we compare the affects of one and the same man with each other, and find that he is affected, or moved, more by one affect than by another. For (by IVP5) the force of each affect is defined by the power of the external [25] cause compared with our own. But the power of the Mind is defined by knowledge alone, whereas lack of power, or passion, is judged solely by the privation of knowledge, i.e., by that through which ideas are called inadequate.

From this it follows that that Mind is most acted on, of which inadequate ideas constitute the greatest part, so that it is distinguished [30] more by what it undergoes than by what it does. On the other hand, that Mind acts most, of which adequate ideas constitute the greatest part, so that though it may have as many inadequate ideas as the other, it is still distinguished more by those which are attributed to human virtue than by those which betray man’s lack of power.

[35] Next, it should be noted that sickness of the mind and misfortunes [II/294] take their origin especially from too much Love toward a thing which is liable to many variations and which we can never fully possess. For no one is disturbed or anxious concerning anything unless he loves it, nor do wrongs, suspicions, and enmities arise except from Love for a [5] thing which no one can really fully possess.

From what we have said, we easily conceive what clear and distinct knowledge—and especially that third kind of knowledge (see IIP47S), whose foundation is the knowledge of God itself—can accomplish against the affects. Insofar as the affects are passions, if clear and distinct [10] knowledge does not absolutely remove them (see P3 and P4S), at least it brings it about that they constitute the smallest part of the Mind (see P14). And then it begets a Love toward a thing immutable and eternal (see P15), which we really fully possess (see IIP45), and which therefore cannot be tainted by any of the vices which are in ordinary [15] Love, but can always be greater and greater (by P15), and occupy the greatest part of the Mind (by P16), and affect it extensively.

With this I have completed everything which concerns this present life. Anyone who attends to what we have said in this Scholium, and at the same time, to the definitions of the Mind and its affects, and [20] finally to IIIP1 and P3, will easily be able to see what I said at the beginning of this Scholium, viz. that in these few words I have covered all the remedies for the affects. So it is time now to pass to those things which pertain to the Mind’s duration without relation to the body.13

[25] P21: The Mind can neither imagine anything, nor recollect past things, except while the Body endures.

Dem.: The Mind neither expresses the actual existence of its Body, [30] nor conceives the Body’s affections as actual, except while the Body endures (by IIP8C); consequently (by IIP26), it conceives no body as actually existing except while its body endures. Therefore, it can neither imagine anything (see the Def. of Imagination in IIP17S) nor [II/295] recollect past things (see the Def. of Memory in IIP18S) except while the body endures, q.e.d.

P22: Nevertheless, in God there is necessarily an idea that expresses the essence [5] of this or that human Body, under a species of eternity.

Dem.: God is the cause, not only of the existence of this or that human Body, but also of its essence (by IP25), which therefore must be conceived through the very essence of God (by IA4), by a certain [10] eternal necessity (by IP16), and this concept must be in God (by IIP3), q.e.d.

P23: The human Mind cannot be absolutely destroyed with the Body, but [15] something of it remains which is eternal.

Dem.: In God there is necessarily a concept, or idea, which expresses the essence of the human Body (by P22), an idea, therefore, which is necessarily something that pertains to the essence of the human [20] Mind (by IIP13). But we do not attribute to the human Mind any duration that can be defined by time, except insofar as it expresses the actual existence of the Body, which is explained by duration, and can be defined by time, i.e. (by IIP8C), we do not attribute duration to it except while the Body endures. However, since what is conceived, [25] with a certain eternal necessity, through God’s essence itself (by P22) is nevertheless something, this something that pertains to the essence of the Mind will necessarily be eternal, q.e.d.

Schol.: There is, as we have said, this idea, which expresses the [30] essence of the body under a species of eternity, a certain mode of thinking, which pertains to the essence of the Mind, and which is [II/296] necessarily eternal. And though it is impossible that we should recollect that we existed before the Body—since there cannot be any traces of this in the body, and eternity can neither be defined by time nor have any relation to time—still, we feel and know by experience that [5] we are eternal.14 For the Mind feels those things that it conceives in understanding no less than those it has in the memory. For the eyes of the mind, by which it sees and observes things, are the demonstrations themselves.

Therefore, though we do not recollect that we existed before the body, we nevertheless feel that our mind, insofar as it involves the essence of the body under a species of eternity, is eternal, and that [10] this existence it has cannot be defined by time or explained through duration. Our mind, therefore, can be said to endure, and its existence can be defined by a certain time, only insofar as it involves the actual existence of the body, and to that extent only does it have the power of determining the existence of things by time, and of conceiving them [15] under duration.

P24: The more we understand singular things, the more we understand God.15

[20] Dem.: This is evident from IP25C.

P25: The greatest striving of the Mind, and its greatest virtue is understanding things by the third kind of knowledge.

[25] Dem.: 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 Def. in IIP40S2), and the more we understand things in this way, the more we understand God (by P24). Therefore (by IVP28), the greatest virtue of the Mind, i.e. (by IVD8), the Mind’s [30] power, or nature, or (by IIIP7) its greatest striving, is to understand things by the third kind of knowledge, q.e.d.

[II/297] P26: The more the Mind is capable of understanding things by the third kind of knowledge, the more it desires to understand them by this kind of knowledge.

[5] Dem.: This is evident. For insofar as we conceive the Mind to be capable of understanding things by this kind of knowledge, we conceive it as determined to understand things by the same kind of knowledge. Consequently (by Def. Aff. I), the more the Mind is capable of [10] this, the more it desires it, q.e.d.

P27: The greatest satisfaction of Mind there can be arises from this third kind of knowledge.

[15] Dem.: The greatest virtue of the Mind is to know God (by IVP28), or to understand things by the third kind of knowledge (by P25). Indeed, this virtue is the greater, the more the Mind knows things by this kind of knowledge (by P24). So he who knows things by this kind of knowledge passes to the greatest human perfection, and consequently [20] (by Def. Aff. II), is affected with the greatest Joy, accompanied (by IIP43) by the idea of himself and his virtue. Therefore (by Def. Aff. XXV), the greatest satisfaction there can be arises from this kind of knowledge, q.e.d.

[25] P28: The Striving, or Desire, to know things by the third kind of knowledge cannot arise from the first kind of knowledge, but can indeed arise from the second.

Dem.: This Proposition is evident through itself. For whatever we [II/298] understand clearly and distinctly, we understand either through itself, or through something else which is conceived through itself; i.e., the ideas which are clear and distinct in us, or which are related to the third kind of knowledge (see IIP40S2), cannot follow from mutilated [5] and confused ideas, which (by IIP40S2) are related to the first kind of knowledge; but they can follow from adequate ideas, or (by IIP40S2) from the second and third kind of knowledge. Therefore (by Def. Aff. I), the Desire to know things by the third kind of knowledge cannot arise from the first kind of knowledge, but can from the second, q.e.d.

[10] P29: Whatever the Mind understands under a species of eternity, it understands not from the fact that it conceives the Body’s present actual existence, but from the fact that it conceives the Body’s essence under a species of eternity.

[15] Dem.: Insofar as the Mind conceives the present existence of its Body, it conceives duration, which can be determined by time, and to that extent it has only the power of conceiving things in relation to time (by P21 and IIP26). But eternity cannot be explained by duration [20] (by ID8 and its explanation). Therefore, to that extent the Mind does not have the power of conceiving things under a species of eternity.

But because it is of the nature of reason to conceive things under a species of eternity (by IIP44C2), and it also pertains to the nature of the Mind to conceive the Body’s essence under a species of eternity [25] (by P23), and beyond these two, nothing else pertains to the Mind’s essence (by IIP13), this power of conceiving things under a species of eternity pertains to the Mind only insofar as it conceives the Body’s essence under a species of eternity, q.e.d.

[30] Schol.: We conceive things as actual in two ways: either insofar as we conceive them to exist in relation to a certain time and place, or insofar as we conceive them to be contained in God and to follow [II/299] from the necessity of the divine nature. But the things we conceive in this second way as true, or real, we conceive under a species of eternity, and to that extent they involve the eternal and infinite essence of God (as we have shown in IIP45 and P45S).

[5] P30: Insofar as our Mind knows itself and the Body under a species of eternity, it necessarily has knowledge of God, and knows that it is in God and is conceived through God.

[10] Dem.: Eternity is the very essence of God insofar as this involves necessary existence (by ID8). To conceive things under a species of eternity, therefore, is to conceive things insofar as they are conceived through God’s essence, as real beings, or insofar as through God’s essence they involve existence. Hence, insofar as our Mind conceives [15] itself and the Body under a species of eternity, it necessarily has knowledge of God, and knows, etc., q.e.d.

P31: The third kind of knowledge depends on the Mind, as on a formal cause, insofar as the Mind itself is eternal.

[20] Dem.: The Mind conceives nothing under a species of eternity except insofar as it conceives its Body’s essence under a species of eternity (by P29), i.e., (by P21 and P23), except insofar as it is eternal. So (by P30) insofar as it is eternal, it has knowledge of God, knowledge [25] which is necessarily adequate (by IIP46). And therefore, the Mind, insofar as it is eternal, is capable of knowing all those things which can follow from this given knowledge of God (by IIP40), i.e., of knowing things by the third kind of knowledge (see the Def. of this in IIP40S2); [30] therefore, the Mind, insofar as it is eternal, is the adequate, or formal, cause of the third kind of knowledge (by IIID1), q.e.d.

[II/300] Schol.: Therefore, the more each of us is able to achieve in this kind of knowledge, the more he is conscious of himself and of God, i.e., the more perfect and blessed he is. This will be even clearer from what follows.

[5] But here it should be noted that although we are already certain that the Mind is eternal, insofar as it conceives things under a species of eternity, nevertheless, for an easier explanation and better understanding of the things we wish to show, we shall consider it as if it were now beginning to be, and were now beginning to understand things under a species of eternity, as we have done up to this point. [10] We may do this without danger of error, provided we are careful to draw our conclusions only from evident premises.

P32: Whatever we understand by the third kind of knowledge we take pleasure in, and our pleasure is accompanied by the idea of God as a cause.

[15] Dem.: From this kind of knowledge there arises the greatest satisfaction of Mind there can be (by P27), i.e. (by Def. Aff. XXV), Joy; this Joy is accompanied by the idea of oneself, and consequently (by [20] P30) it is also accompanied by the idea of God, as its cause, q.e.d.

Cor.: From the third kind of knowledge, there necessarily arises an intellectual Love of God. For from this kind of knowledge there arises (by P32) Joy, accompanied by the idea of God as its cause, i.e. (by [25] Def. Aff. VI), Love of God, not insofar as we imagine him as present (by P29), but insofar as we understand God to be eternal. And this is what I call intellectual love of God.

P33: The intellectual Love of God, which arises from the third kind of knowledge, [30] is eternal.

[II/301] Dem.: For the third kind of knowledge (by P31 and by IA3) is eternal. And so (by IA 3), the Love that arises from it must also be eternal, q.e.d.

[5] Schol.: Although this Love toward God has had no beginning (by P33), it still has all the perfections of Love, just as if it had come to be (as we have feigned in P32C). There is no difference here, except that the Mind has had eternally the same perfections which, in our [10] fiction, now come to it, and that it is accompanied by the idea of God as an eternal cause. If Joy, then, consists in the passage to a greater perfection, blessedness must surely consist in the fact that the Mind is endowed with perfection itself.

[15] P34: Only while the Body endures is the Mind subject to affects which are related to the passions.

Dem.: An imagination is an idea by which the Mind considers a thing as present (see its Def. in IIP17S), which nevertheless indicates [20] the present constitution of the human Body more than the nature of the external thing (by IIP16C2). An imagination, then, is an affect (by the gen. Def. Aff.), insofar as it indicates the present constitution of the Body. So (by P21) only while the body endures is the Mind subject [25] to affects which are related to passions, q.e.d.

Cor.: From this it follows that no Love except intellectual Love is eternal.

[30] Schol.: If we attend to the common opinion of men, we shall see that they are indeed conscious of the eternity of their Mind, but that [II/302] they confuse it with duration, and attribute it to the imagination, or memory, which they believe remains after death.

P35: God loves himself with an infinite intellectual Love.

[5] Dem.: God is absolutely infinite (by ID6), i.e. (by IID6), the nature of God enjoys infinite perfection, accompanied (by IIP3) by the idea of himself, i.e. (by IP11 and D1), by the idea of his cause. And this [10] is what we said (P32C) intellectual Love is.

P36: The Mind’s intellectual Love of God is the very Love of God by which God loves himself, not insofar as he is infinite, but insofar as he can be explained [15] by the human Mind’s essence, considered under a species of eternity; i.e., the Mind’s intellectual Love of God is part of the infinite Love by which God loves himself.

Dem.: This Love the Mind has must be related to its actions (by P32C and IIIP3); it is, then, an action by which the Mind contemplates [20] itself, with the accompanying idea of God as its cause (by P32 and P32C), i.e. (by IP25C and IIP11C), an action by which God, insofar as he can be explained through the human Mind, contemplates himself, with the accompanying idea of himself [as the cause];16 so (by P35), this Love the Mind has is part of the infinite love by which God [25] loves himself, q.e.d.

Cor.: From this it follows that insofar as God loves himself, he loves men, and consequently that God’s love of men and the Mind’s intellectual Love of God are one and the same.

[II/303] Schol.: From this we clearly understand wherein our salvation, or blessedness, or Freedom, consists, viz. in a constant and eternal Love of God, or in God’s Love for men. And this Love, or blessedness, is [5] called Glory in the Sacred Scriptures17—not without reason. For whether this Love is related to God or to the Mind, it can rightly be called satisfaction of mind, which is really not distinguished from Glory (by Defs. Aff. XXV and XXX). For insofar as it is related to God (by P35), it is Joy (if I may still be permitted to use this term),18 accompanied [10] by the idea of himself [as its cause].19 And similarly insofar as it is related to the Mind (by P27).

Again, because the essence of our Mind consists only in knowledge, of which God is the beginning and foundation (by IP15 and IIP47S), it is clear to us how our Mind, with respect both to essence and existence, [15] follows from the divine nature, and continually depends on God.

I thought this worth the trouble of noting here, in order to show by this example how much the knowledge of singular things I have called intuitive, or knowledge of the third kind (see IIP40S2), can accomplish, and how much more powerful it is than the universal knowledge I have called knowledge of the second kind. For although [20] I have shown generally in Part I that all things (and consequently the human Mind also) depend on God both for their essence and their existence, nevertheless, that demonstration, though legitimate and put beyond all chance of doubt, still does not affect our Mind as much as when this is inferred from the very essence of any singular thing which [25] we say depends on God.

P37: There is nothing in nature which is contrary to this intellectual, Love, or which can take it away.

[30] Dem.: This intellectual Love follows necessarily from the nature of the Mind insofar as it is considered as an eternal truth, through God’s nature (by P33 and P29). So if there were something contrary to this [II/304] Love, it would be contrary to the true; consequently, what could remove this Love would bring it about that what is true would be false. This (as is known through itself) is absurd. Therefore, there is nothing in nature, etc., q.e.d.

[5] Schol.: IVA1 concerns singular things insofar as they are considered in relation to a certain time and place. I believe no one doubts this.

P38: The more the Mind understands things by the second and third kind of [10] knowledge, the less it is acted on by affects which are evil, and the less it fears death.

Dem.: The Mind’s essence consists in knowledge (by IIP11); therefore, the more the Mind knows things by the second and third kind [15] of knowledge, the greater the part of it that remains (by P23 and P29), and consequently (by P37), the greater the part of it that is not touched by affects which are contrary to our nature, i.e., which (by IVP30) are evil. Therefore, the more the Mind understands things by the second and third kind of knowledge, the greater the part of it that [20] remains unharmed, and hence, the less it is acted on by affects, etc., q.e.d.

Schol.: From this we understand what I touched on in IVP39S, and what I promised to explain in this Part, viz. that death is less harmful to us, the greater the Mind’s clear and distinct knowledge, [25] and hence, the more the Mind loves God.

Next, because (by P27) the highest satisfaction there can be arises from the third kind of knowledge, it follows from this that the human Mind can be of such a nature that the part of the Mind which we have shown perishes with the body (see P21) is of no moment in relation [30] to what remains. But I shall soon treat this more fully.

P39: He who has a Body capable of a great many things has a Mind whose greatest part is eternal.

[II/305] Dem.: He who has a Body capable of doing a great many things is least troubled by evil affects (by IVP38), i.e. (by IVP30), by affects [5] contrary to our nature. So (by P10) he has a power of ordering and connecting the affections of his Body according to the order of the intellect, and consequently (by P14), of bringing it about that all the affections of the Body are related to the idea of God. The result (by P15) is that it is affected with a Love of God, which (by P16) must [10] occupy, or constitute the greatest part of the Mind. Therefore (by P33), he has a Mind whose greatest part is eternal, q.e.d.

Schol.: Because human Bodies are capable of a great many things, [15] there is no doubt but what they can be of such a nature that they are related to Minds which have a great knowledge of themselves and of God, and of which the greatest, or chief, part is eternal. So they hardly fear death.

But for a clearer understanding of these things, we must note here that we live in continuous change, and that as we change for the better [20] or worse, we are called happy or unhappy. For he who has passed from being an infant or child to being a corpse is called unhappy. On the other hand, if we pass the whole length of our life with a sound Mind in a sound Body, that is considered happiness. And really, he who, like an infant or child, has a Body capable of very few things, and very heavily dependent on external causes, has a Mind which [25] considered solely in itself is conscious of almost nothing of itself, or of God, or of things. On the other hand, he who has a Body capable of a great many things, has a Mind which considered only in itself is very much conscious of itself, and of God, and of things.

In this life, then, we strive especially that the infant’s Body may change (as much as its nature allows and assists) into another, capable [30] of a great many things and related to a Mind very much conscious of itself, of God, and of things. We strive, that is, that whatever is related to its memory or imagination is of hardly any moment in relation to the intellect (as I have already said in P38S).

[II/306] P40: The more perfection each thing has, the more it acts and the less it is acted on; and conversely, the more it acts, the more perfect it is.

[5] Dem.: The more each thing is perfect, the more reality it has (by IID6), and consequently (by IIIP3 and P3S), the more it acts and the less it is acted on. This Demonstration indeed proceeds in the same way in reverse, from which it follows that the more a thing acts, the more perfect it is, q.e.d.

[10] Cor.: From this it follows that the part of the Mind that remains, however great it is, is more perfect than the rest.

For the eternal part of the Mind (by P23 and P29) is the intellect, through which alone we are said to act (by IIIP3). But what we have [15] shown to perish is the imagination (by P21), through which alone we are said to be acted on (by IIIP3 and the gen. Def. Aff.). So (by P40), the intellect, however extensive it is, is more perfect than the imagination, q.e.d.

Schol.: These are the things I have decided to show concerning the [20] Mind, insofar as it is considered without relation to the Body’s existence. From them—and at the same time from IP21 and other things—it is clear that our Mind, insofar as it understands, is an eternal mode of thinking, which is determined by another eternal mode of thinking, and this again by another, and so on, to infinity; so that together, they all constitute God’s eternal and infinite intellect.

[25] P41: Even if we did not know that our Mind is eternal, we would still regard as of the first importance Morality, Religion, and absolutely all the things we have shown (in Part IV) to be related to Tenacity and Nobility.

[30] Dem.: The first and only foundation of virtue, or of the method of living rightly (by IVP22C and P24) is the seeking of our own advantage. But to determine what reason prescribes as useful, we took no account of the eternity of the Mind, which we only came to know in [II/307] the Fifth Part. Therefore, though we did not know then that the Mind is eternal, we still regarded as of the first importance the things we showed to be related to Tenacity and Nobility. And so, even if we also did not know this now, we would still regard as of the first importance [5] the same rules of reason, q.e.d.

Schol.: The usual conviction of the multitude20 seems to be different. For most people apparently believe that they are free to the extent that they are permitted to yield to their lust, and that they give up their right to the extent that they are bound to live according to the [10] rule of the divine law. Morality, then, and Religion, and absolutely everything related to Strength of Character, they believe to be burdens, which they hope to put down after death, when they also hope to receive a reward for their bondage, that is, for their Morality and Religion. They are induced to live according to the rule of the divine [15] law (as far as their weakness and lack of character allows) not only by this hope, but also, and especially, by the fear that they may be punished horribly after death. If men did not have this Hope and Fear, but believed instead that minds die with the body, and that the wretched, exhausted with the burden of Morality, cannot look forward to a life to come, they would return to their natural disposition, and would prefer to govern all their actions according to lust, and to [20] obey fortune rather than themselves.

These opinions seem no less absurd to me than if someone, because he does not believe he can nourish his body with good food to eternity, should prefer to fill himself with poisons and other deadly things, or because he sees that the Mind is not eternal, or immortal, should prefer to be mindless, and to live without reason. These [common [25] beliefs] are so absurd they are hardly worth mentioning.

P42: Blessedness is not the reward of virtue, but virtue itself; nor do we enjoy it because we restrain our lusts; on the contrary, because we enjoy it, we are able to restrain them.

[30] Dem.: Blessedness consists in Love of God (by P36 and P36S), a Love which arises from the third kind of knowledge (by P32C). So [II/308] this Love (by IIIP59 and P3) must be related to the Mind insofar as it acts. Therefore (by IVD8), it is virtue itself. This was the first point.

Next, the more the Mind enjoys this divine Love, or blessedness, [5] the more it understands (by P32), i.e. (by P3C), the greater the power it has over the affects, and (by P38) the less it is acted on by evil affects. So because the Mind enjoys this divine Love or blessedness, it has the power of restraining lusts. And because human power to [10] restrain the affects consists only in the intellect, no one enjoys blessedness because he has restrained the affects. Instead, the power to restrain lusts arises from blessedness itself, q.e.d.

Schol.: With this I have finished all the things I wished to show [15] concerning the Mind’s power over the affects and its Freedom. From what has been shown, it is clear how much the Wise man is capable of, and how much more powerful he is than one who is ignorant and is driven only by lust. For not only is the ignorant man troubled in many ways by external causes, and unable ever to possess true peace of mind, but he also lives as if he knew neither himself, nor God, nor [20] things; and as soon as he ceases to be acted on, he ceases to be. On the other hand, the wise man, insofar as he is considered as such, is hardly troubled in spirit, but being, by a certain eternal necessity, conscious of himself, and of God, and of things, he never ceases to be, but always possesses true peace of mind.

If the way I have shown to lead to these things now seems very hard, still, it can be found. And of course, what is found so rarely [25] must be hard. For if salvation were at hand, and could be found without great effort, how could nearly everyone neglect it? But all things excellent are as difficult as they are rare.

1 On this process see Pollock, chap. 12, and Vernière.

2 E.g., Novalis, Heine, Coleridge, Wordsworth, Shelley, George Sand, George Eliot, Anatole France, and Somerset Maugham.

3 So I read Spinoza’s moral philosophy. See Curley 4. Others disagree. Cf. Mattern and Eisenberg 2.

4 For an interesting discussion of typical views, see Mark.

5 As Mark emphasizes, in Mark, 277-280. However, the qualification “very close” is essential. Cf., for example, the discussion of the definitions of “substance” and “mode” in Curley 3, 4-28.

6 Cf., for example, the first appendix to the Short Treatise, and the early correspondence with Oldenburg. This theme is emphasised both in Mark and Hubbeling. More recently Bennett (2, 20) has recommended viewing the Ethics as a hypothetico-deductive system (“something that starts with general hypotheses, deduces consequences from them, and checks those against the data”). Bennett would concede, of course, that Spinoza did not regard his axioms and definitions as mere hypotheses. “Spinoza could—and I think would—say that although his system must work on untutored minds in a hypothetico-deductive manner, when the tutoring is completed the reader will see the starting point to be certain” (21). That seems to me exactly right. Cf. IIP11S.

7 So I have argued, at any rate, in Curley 3, chap. 1. While much of what is offered in that book as an interpretation of Spinoza is admittedly quite speculative, the conclusion relevant here seems to me almost certain. I am happy to note that Gueroult reaches a very similar conclusion in the first volume of his commentary on the Ethics.

8 The most plausible example of this occurs at II/81/20, but as the annotation will suggest, Gebhardt is probably wrong in his interpretation of the significance of the variation.

9 But not usually, not on any principle that I can discern, and not, in my view, always correctly. The Latin additions he makes at 92/8, 10 seem to me to repose too much confidence in the accuracy of the marginalia.

10 Though Glazemaker may have made some revisions in Balling’s translation and probably added the marginalia. Akkerman also does not exclude the possibility that other friends in the Amsterdam Spinoza circle may have had some hand in Balling’s translation of E I-II.

1 The titles of the five parts are given differently in the NS: “I. Of God, II. Of the Human Mind, III. Of the Nature and Origin of the Affects, IV. Of Human Bondage, V. Of Human Freedom.” Akkerman (2, 263) suggests that the order of the title of Part III in the OP is wrong (by analogy with the title of Part II), though probably the order of Spinoza’s ms., and that the NS reflects Jelles’s emendation of the ms.

2 OP: “Per attributum intelligo id, quod intellectus de substantiâ percipit, tanquam ejusdem essentiam constituens.” The meaning of this definition is much disputed. One important question of translation is whether tanquam should be rendered ‘as if’ or ‘as.’ The former would favor those who hold the ‘subjective’ interpretation, according to which the differences between the attributes are illusory, all the attributes being identical in substance. Cf. Wolfson 1, 1: chap. 5. The latter would be more congenial to those who think the attributes are really distinct and not merely constructions of the intellect. I think Gueroult, 1 (1: app. 3) has provided us with a definitive refutation of the subjective interpretation. But it is unclear whether his own interpretation is acceptable. See Donagan 1 and Curley 6.

Arguably the intellect referred to in this definition is the infinite intellect, not the finite (see Haserot). Note also that the NS supplies a definite article for substantia. Practice among modern translators and commentators varies; but I agree with Gueroult (1, 1:52) that the indefinite article is to be preferred.

3 The NS have the indefinite article here. Cf. Gueroult 1, 1:51, 67.

4 The gloss Gebhardt adds from the NS may be the work of the translator, as Akkerman thinks is often true in such cases, or it may be an addition by Spinoza, as Akkerman (2, 161) thinks possible here. In any case, if the NS translation of E I-II was done by Balling in the period 1663-1665, then it seems likely that Spinoza would have seen it and had an opportunity to reject any alterations he did not approve of.

5 Parkinson (171n) suggests that while ‘the essence of a thing’ is possible, ‘the essence of the thing’ is preferable, so as to imply only that the essence of substance is eternal (anticipating E IP8S2), not that all essences are eternal. But the NS have the indefinite article. And Spinoza does not maintain that all essences are eternal only in suspect works like the Metaphysical Thoughts. Cf. for example, the Treatise (II/36-37). In any case the attributes seem to provide us with a plurality of eternal things (cf. P19).

6 NS: “expressed.”

7 NS: de zelfstandigheit, the substance, or simply, substance. But as Appuhn says, it does not emerge until later, after the properties of substances have been established, that there is only one substance. Spinoza will continue to speak as if there could be more than one substance until P14C1.

8 The punctuation in both the OP and the NS, which puts commas around the participial phrase, may suggest a claim that two substances, if they are indeed two, will have to have different attributes. It seems to me not to be Spinoza’s intention to claim this at this point (cf. P5). I take the force of the phrase to be conditional: “If two substances have different attributes.…” Leibniz’s objection (I, 141), that two substances might have some attributes in common and others which were distinctive of each one (e.g., substance A has attributes C and D, substance B has attributes C and E), rests on the assumption that a substance may have more than one attribute. But (in spite of D6 and P10S) I take it that Spinoza begins with the Cartesian assumption (cf. Principles I, 53) that each substance has one attribute that constitutes its nature or essence, and that anything else that might be called an attribute would be improperly, or only loosely, so-called.

9 Elwes, White and Shirley all omit the comma after “attributes,” thereby suggesting that substance is being identified with its attributes and affections. But the comma appears both in the OP and the NS. On the identity of substance and attribute see Gueroult 1, 1:47-50; Curley 3, 16-18.

10 Both the OP and the NS omit the bracketed phrase, but this is clearly only an ellipsis. Akkerman (2, 80) points out that one of the most common differences between the OP and the NS occurs at the end of demonstrations, particularly when the proof is indirect (e.g., E IIP10D) or given in two parts (e.g., E IP18D). He infers (2, 176) that, rather than constantly repeat the proposition to be demonstrated, Spinoza probably gave very summary indications of the conclusions in his mss., “which were worked out in various ways by the editors and translators.”

The OP and NS also read “D3 and D6” in l. 13, but Van Vloten-Land and Gebhardt emend to “D3 and A6.” Hubbeling (66) suggests that the reference may be to the principle that every definition, or clear and distinct idea, is true (cf. IV/13/12-13).

The proposition is an extremely important one, since it is the first truly radical theorem Spinoza derives from his first principles. Note the alternative demonstration in P8S2.

11 The NS reads: “This Proposition …” Gebhardt infers that the translation reflects an earlier draft. But Akkerman points out (2, 154) that the reference must be to the corollary, and concludes that the NS reading merely reflects the translator’s disposition to eliminate ambiguities, a disposition which in this case leads him astray.

12 From the perspective of Gueroult’s interpretation, this phrase is highly significant, as illustrating his contention that the early propositions of Part I of the Ethics (P1-P8) are concerned to demonstrate properties possessed by the elements of God’s essence, which are substances constituted by a single attribute, each unique in its kind, existing by itself and infinite. The problem, then, becomes one of seeing how these attributes are united in one being, i.e., how these distinct essences (P10S) can be the essences of one and the same thing.

13 Akkerman (2, 161) takes this to be clearly a translator’s addition.

14 Because this scholium relates more to P7 than to P8, some scholars have thought it a marginal note misplaced by the original editors. But both the NS and the OP put it here, and as Gebhardt notes, it is subsequently referred to by Spinoza as the second scholium to P8. Probably the reason for its placement here is that Spinoza conceives the first eight propositions to form a natural unit, and this scholium touches on a number of the themes of that unit.

15 Gebhardt notes that the NS has ‘wijzen’ with ‘modi’ in the margin, instead of ‘modificationes’ as in the OP text. There are many such variations in the NS marginalia (e.g., ‘affectio’ for ‘affectus’ in l. 36) and Gebhardt takes them as a sign that the NS translation was done from an earlier state of the text. But Akkerman (2, 66-67, 163) has advanced a more plausible hypothesis, that the translator (or rather, the author of the marginalia, who in this case may not have been the translator) may not always have preserved for the Dutch reader the exact Latin word Spinoza used. The author of the marginalia may not always have taken the time to look back from the translation to the text translated, and may have been misled by the translator’s (correct) treatment of ‘modus’ and ‘modificatio’ as synonyms. He may also have intended to indicate not so much the exact word, as simply a common Latin term for the Dutch term. The translation seems deliberately to avoid the use of words of foreign origin. The marginalia help to compensate for the loss entailed by that policy.

16 Wolfson (2, 242-243) suggests a number of possible targets here: the belief that trees may speak was held by the Sabians and ridiculed by Maimonides (1, 3:29); that men may be made from stones as well as seed is implied in the Greek legend of Deucalion and Pyrrha (Ovid, Metamorphoses, I, 411-413), but also in Matthew 3:9; and that a thing having any one form may be changed into one having any other is illustrated both by many of the legends in Ovid, but also by many Jewish and Christian miracles (cf. Maimonides 1, 2:29, and TdIE §58).

17 This passage is interesting partly because it provides a different gloss on the definition of substance from that offered in D3, but also because Spinoza shows clearly here that he does not take his definition of substance to be merely a report of what men ordinarily understand by that term. Cf. Curley 3, 14-16.

18 The NS here has an interesting variation that Gebhardt does not note: “But the object of a true idea of substances can be nothing other than the substances themselves.…” Akkerman (2, 166) suggests that the translator wished to eliminate the abstract term “veritas” in favor of “vera idea,” which had been discussed above (l. 8). A passage in the CM(I/247/4-6) would seem to license the transformation, and that passage would have been fresh in Balling’s mind if he did, as Akkerman thinks, translate E I-II around 1663. Akkerman has shown that this kind of a freedom is characteristic of Balling’s work as a translator, but not of Glazemaker’s.

19 NS: “If someone maintains that a substance which was not, now begins to be.”

20 Some translators have proposed emending the text so that it would be translated ‘a true idea has become false.’ Gebhardt rightly rejects the emendation, though his assumption that the NS translation shows that Spinoza twice wrote “a false idea has become true” is probably incorrect. The NS translator’s gloss on the beginning of the sentence helps to bring out Spinoza’s point. The idea that a substance is created implies that at one time it is false of the substance that it exists and that at a later time it has become true. This is absurd because it involves conceiving an eternal truth as a temporal one.

21 The remainder of this scholium closely parallels Letter 34, the main difference being that in the letter the argument is used to prove that there is only one God. The lost original was written in Dutch. Akkerman conjectures (2, 167-168), on the basis of a comparison of the OP version of P8S2, the NS version of P8S2, and the NS version of Letter 34, that Spinoza may have had Balling’s translation of E I-II available to him when he wrote Letter 34 in 1666, and that he may have used it to help draft the letter. If this is right, it is somewhat surprising that Spinoza did not, in writing the letter, correct the NS’s mistranslation of ‘quòd’ as ‘because’ in l. 32.

[NS: a by individuals are understood particulars which belong under a genus.]

22 NS: “een stellige oorzaak/causa positiva,” a positive cause. Perhaps, as Akkerman suggests (2, 163), this variation is to be accounted for as translator’s license (cf. above at II/49/29). But it is interesting that the same variation occurs in Letter 34 (IV/179/29). If Akkerman’s theory (cf. above at II/50/21) is correct, then Spinoza may have made the alteration in writing the letter, changed the NS version of P8S2 accordingly, but not taken the trouble (or remembered) to make the alteration in the Latin original.

23 NS: “at the beginning of this scholium.”

24 The usual way of rendering this into English was challenged by Bennett, who argued that constituere should be rendered, not by ‘constitute,’ but by ‘characterize.’ Donagan (2) replied, with reference to EID4, that ‘constitute’ was correct, since it might be understood as elliptical for ‘constitute the essence of.’ My own view is that ‘constitute’ is defensible without our needing to regard it as elliptical, because of the tendency in both Descartes and Spinoza to identify substance and attribute. Cf. here Spinoza’s note to IP7 of his Descartes’ Principles (I/163/5). It is true that even here Spinoza uses language apt to suggest that the attributes are properties of substance and distinct from it. But in the end I think that is only misleading.

25 NS: “a certain kind of essence, which is eternal and infinite.” Gebhardt conjectures that the variation reflects the existence of an earlier draft, Akkerman (2, 163), a free translation.

26 The NS omits “now” in both cases.

27 Gebhardt, following the OP, reads habere in l. 19, i.e.: ‘a substance of another nature could have nothing in common with God.’ But the NS suggests that we should read haberet.

28 OP: “Posse non existere impotentia est, & contra posse existere potentia est.” Some earlier translators thought this should read: “Non posse existere …” (e.g., White: “Inability to exist …,” Meijer: “Niet te kunnen bestaan …”). Gebhardt pointed out that the NS confirm the OP: “Te konnen niet zijn/Non existere/is warelijk onvermogen: in tegendeel, te konnen zijn/Existere/is vermogen.” But since some persist in emending the text (e.g., Caillois, “Ne pouvoir exister …”) it is worth observing that this makes nonsense of the following argument. Spinoza wishes to compare the power of what can exist (but cannot not exist) with the power of finite existents which (since they do in fact exist) must be able to exist, but which are also able not to exist.

Admittedly, Spinoza makes his point (that being able not to exist is not a sign of power) somewhat more difficult to grasp by speaking in the next sentence of “what … necessarily exists,” which may suggest that these finite beings are not able not to exist. But Spinoza does not mean that their existence is an eternal truth. Considered in themselves, they are able not to exist. It is only when they are considered in relation to an external cause that their existence is necessary. This is the force of speaking of “what now necessarily exists.” As at 53/9-10, the NS omits the “now.”

29 NS: “which are easily able to exist.”

30 NS: “are not so easily able to exist.”

31 Following Meijer. Both the OP and the NS have P6. But Gebhardt’s argument that this must be right is unconvincing.

32 The apparently gratuitous assumption that the parts would be equal has prompted various emendations. Gebhardt is probably right to suggest that Spinoza assumes that if substance can be conceived to be divided at all, then it can be conceived to be divided into equal parts. So the case of an equal division is the only one that need be considered.

33 NS: “insofar as one conceives it as substance.”

34 On the propriety of applying this term to God, see Gueroult 1, 1:156-158.

35 Wolfson’s discussion of the historical background of this scholium (1, 1:262-295) is instructive, provided it is read cautiously. It should be stressed that the main theme of the scholium is the defense of the doctrine that extended substance is an attribute of God; that extended substance is infinite is a subordinate theme, relating only to the first objection Spinoza discusses (sections II, IV, and V), not to the second (sections III and VI). See also Letter 12 and Gueroult’s discussion of it in Grene.

36 We do have ‘sive’ here, which is normally the ‘or’ of identity; but if corporeality implies finiteness (as the preceding paragraph says it does), then Spinoza ought not to identify extended substance with corporeal substance, since the latter involves a contradiction. Nevertheless, throughout this scholium Spinoza does use the terms as if they were interchangeable (e.g., at II/58/18 and at 58/34-35). Perhaps the explanation is that he adopts, for the time being, his opponents’ identification of the two concepts.

37 Gebhardt adds this from the NS. But this is not what that corollary says. As things stand, this proposition is not proven until E IIP2. Perhaps in an earlier state of the ms. the corollary did say that and perhaps the omission of this reference was deliberate, following a change in the corollary.

38 In fact Spinoza mentions three, numbered here [i], [ii], and [iii]. That corporeal substance could be infinite was certainly denied by Aristotle (cf. Physics III, 5; De Caelo I, 5-7), though his arguments seem to have evolved considerably before they reached the form in which Spinoza undertakes to refute them. For Descartes’ attempt at compromise, see Principles of Philosophy I, 26-27. On the whole issue, see Koyré 1.

39 This argument seems to require that the division be into two equal parts. Probably it is taken for granted that if any division is possible, division into equal parts is possible (cf. P12D).

40 Descartes is generally identified as the opponent here (cf. Principles I, 23). Wolfson’s argument to the contrary (1, 1:268) is unconvincing, but it is fair to say that Spinoza’s version of the Cartesian argument in Descartes’ Principles (IP16, I/176-177) is closer to what Descartes actually says than the argument given here. Descartes gives no reason for saying that divisibility involves imperfection. The objection Spinoza considers here makes it an imperfection because it entails the possibility of being acted on.

41 OP: de quo aliàs. This is not specific as to time, but Appuhn is probably right to see a reference here to Descartes’ Principles (I/188), since the topic is not mentioned again in the Ethics. Gueroult (1, 1:216) casts doubt on this, but on the inaccurate ground that Descartes’ Principles is nothing more than an exposition of a philosophy Spinoza rejects. Spinoza certainly regards some of the arguments of that work as sound. Cf. E IP19S.

42 NS: “abstracted from matter.” The phrases incorporated from the NS in this sentence are perhaps no more than examples of translator’s liberties.

43 It is unclear whether modus should be translated here as a technical term (Appuhn, Caillois), or as a nontechnical one (White, Elwes, Meijer, and Auerbach). The NS cannot resolve this since they use wijz both for technical and nontechnical uses of modus; but they do give the Latin in the margin, which suggests that they took it as a technical term. Gueroult (1, 1:260) suggests that it may be translated either way. For a context where the policy adopted here seems awkward, see IIP3S.

44 NS: “that can be conceived by an infinite intellect.” Similarly at II. 29-30, and 32-33. The NS’s indefinite article is confirmed by the OP when Spinoza refers back to this proposition at II/83/31-32.

45 On this corollary, cf. Wolfson 1, 1:307, with Gueroult 1, 1:253.

46 Instead of “except the perfection of his nature,” the NS have: “but he is only an efficient cause from the force of his perfection.” Gebhardt adds this to the text, creating a certain redundancy. This is probably a translator’s gloss, rather than a passage omitted in revision.

47 On the medieval background of this scholium see Wolfson 1, 1:308-319, and Gueroult 1, 1:272-295.

48 The NS here adds a gloss on “omnipotence”: “through which he is said to be able to do everything.”

49 It must be emphasized that Spinoza does not himself think that either intellect or will should be ascribed to the essence of God (cf. P31). He is only discussing here what follows from a common view. This has been widely misunderstood. See Gueroult 1, 1:277-282.

50 The NS has, for the final clause: “because God’s intellect has conceived [things] as they really are.” This is no doubt a translator’s gloss, and not a very happy one, since it seems to cancel the text’s claim that God’s intellect is prior to the things understood.

51 This passage is extremely puzzling, since it seems to contradict A5. Cf. Gueroult 1, 1:286-295.

52 For the last two sentences the NS has: “Therefore, God is not a cause of anything that is outside him. That is the second thing we proposed.” Cf. the note at I/48/15. Akkerman notes similar variations in IIIP1, P2, P28, P39, and P52.

53 It is sometimes suggested that it is inappropriate for Spinoza to characterize any mode (even an infinite one) as eternal, and so the use of temporal language here has been taken to show that the infinite modes exist at all times, but not (strictly speaking) eternally. Cf. for example, Appuhn, 3:347; Wolfson 1, 1:376-377; Curley 3, 107 and 116; and Donagan 3.

54 OP: idea Dei; NS: het denkbeelt van God (but at l.21, and subsequently, Gods denkbeelt). The idea of God referred to here is generally taken to be, not the idea of God existing as a finite mode of thought in, say, some human mind, but the (infinite) idea which God has (cf. IIP3 and P7), and hence an infinite mode. I use “God’s idea” and “the idea of God” to mark the distinction between the subjective and objective readings of idea Dei. But it must be understood that it is often very uncertain which meaning is intended.

There is disagreement as to whether God’s idea should be regarded as an immediate infinite mode (Wolfson 1, 1:238ff.; Gueroult 1, 1:314ff.) or a mediate infinite mode (Pollock, 176; Joachim 1, 94). It must be realized that any interpretation of Spinoza’s doctrine of infinite modes has very little evidence to work from. For example, it is usually thought that there will be one immediate infinite mode and one mediate infinite mode for each attribute. But in none of the scanty references in the Ethics (IP21-23), the Short Treatise (I, 8, 9) and the Correspondence (Letter 64) is this actually stated.

55 The NS has an indefinite article here, but deletes it in the errata. Two lines later it has “an absolute thought,” which is left unaltered.

56 NS: “It must be necessarily and eternally immutable.”

57 NS: “Whatever follows from one of God’s attributes, insofar as it is affected with a mode that by the power of that attribute is infinite and eternal, must also be necessarily eternal and infinite.” Akkerman thinks it possible that Spinoza altered the text slightly after it had been translated, but equally possible that Balling is being free with the text (licensed by the equation of eternity and necessary existence in ID8, cf. I/67/4). Backward references to IP22 vary, cf. 69/21-22 with 94/26.

58 Many commentators have wondered how the finite causality affirmed here could be consistent with the divine causality affirmed in P26 and P27. Idealist interpreters have tended to treat finite causality, and indeed, the very existence of the finite in Spinoza, as an illusion (cf. Joachim 1, 98-122), though Harris (1, 57-69) is an exception. For a realist interpretation see Curley 3, chap. 2. The criticism of this in Harris (2) seems to me to involve a confusion of epistemological issues with metaphysical ones.

59 The text of the OP is corrupt in this sentence. Gebhardt rightly emends on the basis of the NS (though it would be better Latin to supply et quaedam). Even with the emendation, however, this scholium is open to various interpretations. Some have taken “certain things” to refer to the immediate infinite modes of P21 and “others” to refer to the mediate infinite modes of P22 (Gebhardt, II/352-353; Wolfson I, 1:390). Others (Gueroult 1, 1:342; Curley 3, 70-71) take “certain things” to refer to all the infinite modes, and “others” to refer to the finite modes. In favor of the latter interpretation (which is certainly not the most natural without reflection) it may be pointed out that (a) Spinoza’s own gloss on “things produced immediately by God” is “things which follow from his absolute nature” (which applies to all the infinite modes), (b) at ll. 11-12 he apparently regards the latter phrase as more accurate, and (c) this reading is confirmed by the Short Treatise I/36, 118. The point of “nevertheless” (in l. 4) is that although the finite modes are produced by other finite modes, and do not follow from the absolute nature of God, they do still depend on him (i.e., he is not their remote cause in the sense given to that term at ll. 13-14).

60 Gueroult’s explanation (1, 1:255n) of Heereboord’s use of the terms “proximate” and “remote” seems helpful in understanding this passage. See the Glossary-Index.

61 OP, NS: P27. Gebhardt defends that reading against Meijer’s proposal to read P22, but Gueroult’s suggestion (1, 1:343) that we should read P28 seems right.

62 The text here has been variously translated, but a consensus seems to have developed in favor of this rendering. Cf. Gueroult 1, 1:354n.

63 I.e., though thought is an attribute of God, and he is a thinking thing (IIP1), he has neither intellect, nor will, desire nor love. This doctrine goes back to the Short Treatise (cf. I/45/21ff.).

64 This is only a provisional way of speaking. Cf. IIP49C. For the transition from “will” to “volition,” cf. IIP48.

65 Though the preceding sentence does not say explicitly that the will is there supposed to be a finite mode, this is implied by the reference to P28 and probably by the adjective “certain” as well. Cf. Gueroult 1, 1:362 (and contrast Wolfson 1, 1:407).

66 This is only provisional. Later (II/209) Spinoza will distinguish between the contingent and the possible.

67 Again it must be emphasized that (as in P17S) Spinoza is here discussing only what follows from an assumption of his opponents which he rejects. (Curley 3, 158, requires correction on this point, as De Dijn noted.) Apparent passages to the contrary in the Metaphysical Thoughts (e.g., I/261, 264) must be counted among those in which Spinoza is merely expounding Descartes. Cf. the note to II/71/32.

68 Cf. Aquinas 1, 1a, 3, 1, and Descartes, Third Meditation, AT VII, 47.

69 NS: “on account of which they are called perfect or imperfect, good or bad.”

70 Cf. Descartes, Sixth Replies, AT VII, 435-436, and the Short Treatise (I/38/11).

71 Wolfson’s discussion of medieval doctrines concerning final causes (1, 1:422-440) is useful background to this appendix. But Gueroult is surely right to argue (1, 1:398-400) that Spinoza’s antifinalism, while owing much to Descartes, is, in the end, directed against him as well as the scholastics.

72 What Gebhardt adds here from the NS, Akkerman (2, 161) regards as a translator’s gloss, though it seems to me to go beyond the sort of thing one would expect from Balling.

73 What Gebhardt adds here from the NS, Akkerman (2, 161) regards as a translator’s gloss.

74 What Gebhardt adds here from the NS, Akkerman (2, 161) suggests may be a comment by Balling, “who thinks most people stupid.” Akkerman is no doubt thinking of the gloss at 81/20, which probably is due to Balling. But the comment here seems to say no more than that few men are able to see common prejudices for what they are and rise above them, and that seems to be a genuinely Spinozistic view. Cf. the Preface to the TTP, III/5-6, 12. If we ascribe this line to Spinoza, we need not imagine that he deliberately omitted it in revising his first draft. If it was Spinoza’s own copy of Balling’s translation that Glazemaker used in compiling the NS, Spinoza may have added the line to the translation without adding it to the text, through some oversight.

75 As Wolfson points out (1, 1:432), the distinction is to be found (among other places) in Heereboord’s Meletemata where it is explained that in acting for the sake of an end of assimilation God acts for the benefit of other things which are outside him and are made to be like him. Heereboord does also concede there that God has done all things for his own sake.

76 As Wolfson points out (1, 1:434-436), the argument of this paragraph goes back at least as far as Cicero’s De Natura Deorum and was used in the Middle Ages by Maimonides (1, III, 19).

77 Gebhardt here adds a phrase from the NS which would be translated: “or rather, stupidity.” He takes it that Spinoza had omitted this phrase when revising his first draft, in order to avoid unnecessary offense. But as Akkerman (2, 97) points out, it is more likely that the translator was offering a double translation of a single Latin term, to heighten the effect of lines that strongly appealed to him. The translator uses other double translations in this passage without provoking Gebhardt to make the corresponding additions to the text (e.g., l. 19, interpretes/tolken en verklaarders, l. 20, stupor/verwondering of verbaasdheid). Is the addition consistent with Spinoza’s thought elsewhere? Akkerman notes that it is “familiar humanistic ground” that philosophers try to raise people out of their ignorance and that priests see their authority threatened by this. But does Spinoza think the people are not merely ignorant but stupid? Akkerman appeals to TTP, VII, 27 (III/319-20) to show that he does not.

78 Gebhardt here adds, as if it were something omitted in the Latin, what is surely (cf. Akkerman 2, 164) a translator’s gloss on this first clause: “But I leave it to them to judge what force there is in such reasoning.” Since Gebhardt also gives, as part of the text, the Latin which the Dutch glosses, his text is redundant.

79 NS: “the human mind.” Akkerman (2, 169) thinks that this variation may, in fact, stem from Spinoza’s altering the text after it had been translated, and that this may be a survival of the period in which Spinoza conceived the Ethics as having a tripartite structure (I. On God, II. On the mind, III. On human nature). The topics referred to are treated in IVP37S2 as things presently stand.

80 In the NS this passage is translated: “we say that they are in good order, or in order.” Gebhardt assumes that something has been omitted in revision, but probably this is no more than a double translation. Cf. Akkerman 2, 88.

81 This concluding formula, which Gebhardt adds from the NS, Akkerman (2, 161) attributes to the translator.

1 Spinoza’s conception of essence is stricter than the Cartesian conception he expounds in Descartes’ Principles IIA2 (I/183). His reason for not defining essence so broadly is given in P10CS (II/93/20-94/12).

2 What Gebhardt adds here from the NS (which might be translated: “or singulars”) is probably only a double translation.

3 What Gebhardt adds here from the NS (which may be translated: “or, to put it differently, we know that we think”) he regards as a gloss from the first draft which Spinoza later suppressed because it “limited” his teaching. But as Akkerman contends (2, 97-100, 145-146), it is hard to see what limitation is involved and it is clear that the gloss goes well beyond what we might expect of the translator. Akkerman ingeniously suggests that members of the Amsterdam Spinoza circle, some of whom probably studied a draft of EI-II in Balling’s Dutch translation in 1663-1664, may have added these words to their copy of the ms., as their own interpretation of the axiom, inspired perhaps by Glazemaker’s translation of Descartes’ Principles of Philosophy I, 8. Glazemaker ends that section with these very words, since he follows Picot’s French version of the Principles, which amplifies the Latin at this point. When Jelles and Rieuwertsz put Balling’s early translation of EI-II at Glazemaker’s disposal in compiling the NS, Glazemaker did not suspect that these words were not Spinoza’s, but his own (ultimately, Picot’s). Akkerman does allow that Spinoza may, at some stage, have seen and approved the gloss.

4 The NS adds: “or in the same man.” But this is probably only a double translation, as at 85/17.

5 NS: “our body.”

6 What Gebhardt adds from the NS, Akkerman (2, 161) regards as a translator’s gloss.

7 It is not, of course, only ‘ordinary people’ who make this comparison, but also philosophers like Descartes (cf. the letter to Mersenne, 15 April 1630).

8 Various editors have proposed emending this to read: “… only insofar.…” Gebhardt points out that the text of the OP is supported by the NS, and very probably Spinoza’s manuscript did read the way Gebhardt has it. But the emenders are probably true to the spirit of the text, if not its letter. Similarly at ll. 19 and 29.

9 Spinoza is not very explicit on this point in the Ethics, but it seems from other works that we are to assume a distinct idea in thought for every mode of every other attribute, with the result that the attribute of thought appears to be ‘more extensive’ than the other attributes. See Letter 66 and the Short Treatise (I/119). For comment, see Pollock, 159-163; Joachim 1, 134-138; Curley 3, 147-151; Gueroult 1, 2:45-46, 78-84, 91-92.

10 Most translators (e.g., Elwes, White, Auerbach, Meijer, and Caillois) supply a definite article here. But Appuhn’s use of the indefinite article deserves consideration at least. Cf. above at II/45/24-25. The NS use no article at all here.

11 Wolfson (1, 2:26) cites Maimonides 1, I, 68, and Gueroult (1, 2:85) adds that the doctrine was also held by Christian Aristotelians like Aquinas (1, 1a, 18, 14). But of course these philosophers would have understood the doctrine very differently from the way Spinoza does, as he himself implies.

12 The NS here adds: “in the same way.” But this is probably a translator’s gloss, as is what Gebhardt adds from the NS in the next line. The latter addition correctly refers back to P6, but the former is only dubiously correct (cf. 1. 9).

13 Gueroult (1, 2:87) suggests that IIP21S and IIIP2S should be viewed as offering the further explanation hinted at here, since they apply this scholium to the case of the relation between mind and body.

14 The NS translator renders illustrare (here translated by “illustrate”): “explain with an example.” Akkerman (2, 87) finds this an unhappy choice given the opening sentence of the scholium, and suggests “clarify.” I would take what follows as an example which explains the matter imperfectly, i.e., an analogy. In any case, Gebhardt’s assumption that a phrase has been omitted from the Latin text is clearly wrong.

15 This is theorem 35, Book III, of Euclid’s Elements, which is more easily stated if we add to Spinoza’s diagram some letters he does not use. If AC and FG are any two lines intersecting at a point B in a circle, then the rectangle with base AB and height BC is equal in area to that with base BG and height BF.

16 I think Baensch and Meijer have understood this passage more accurately than Gebhardt, whose appeal to the NS (cf. II/358-359) is indecisive.

17 Gueroult (1, 2:544-545) takes the phrase “God … insofar as he is infinite” to be ambiguous between “the attribute” (as opposed to its infinity of finite modes) and “the infinite mode” or “the infinite chain of singular things” (as opposed to a finite part of the infinite mode, or individual member of the infinite chain). But this seems to rest partly on a doubtful reading of IIP40D, q.v.

18 Gueroult (1, 2:135) suggests that the qualification “absolute,” applied to God’s thought (God as the Thinking Thing, or attribute of Thought) implies that it is thought without an object.

19 Here and in l. 10 the NS translation is more explicit than the OP. No doubt Akkerman is right (2, 165) to say, contrary to Gebhardt, that there is no question here of two drafts. But the translator’s gloss is clearly correct and helpful, as a comparison with IP28 will show. Gebhardt, contrary to his usual practice, translates his additions to the text into Latin, relying on the marginalia. But the variance from the wording of P28 seems to confirm that the author of the marginalia is working simply from the Dutch and not consulting a Latin original.

20 NS: “connection of things.” This corresponds more closely to the actual wording of P7.

21 Appuhn remarks that it is tempting to supply an indefinite article here, so as to conform better to the [presumed] requirements of Spinoza’s nominalism. He resists the temptation on the grounds that the scholium of this proposition and IP8S both imply that there is a nature common to all men, and that Part IV would be incomprehensible without that assumption. For what it may be worth, the NS confirm this, reading de mensch (the use of the definite article is normal in Dutch when nouns are used abstractly or collectively). Cf. Gueroult 1, 2:103n.

22 The NS add: “at the same time.” Probably a translator’s gloss, influenced by II/51/2, though it has less point here.

23 Cf. Descartes, Fifth Replies (AT VII, 369); Aquinas 1, Ia, 104, 1; and Gueroult 1, 1:333-334.

24 Descartes is among those aimed at here. Cf. I/183.

25 NS: “they did not keep to the right path to arrive at wisdom.” This is reminiscent of Spinoza’s criticism (through Meyer) of Descartes at I/132/31-33. But the immediate target must be the scholastics rather than Descartes, since for him the mind and God are prior to the objects of the senses in the order of knowledge.

26 NS: “For my intent is not so much to contradict them as to give a reason.…” Gebhardt incorporates this in the text (without, however, deleting tantùm, “only”). This seems a clear case where the text of the OP is to be preferred. The NS version is liable to suggest that it was, in part, Spinoza’s intention to contradict those whose errors he has just exposed. This is uncharacteristic, and no doubt Spinoza intended to avoid that suggestion. This seems to me a case in which it is more plausible to regard the NS as preserving a first draft which has subsequently been altered than as illustrating a translator’s gloss (pace Akkerman 2, 161).

27 The NS here reads: “the other modes … must constitute one and the same thing with the idea.” Akkerman (2, 165) comments: “The translation says that the idea and the modi necessarily following it form together an indivisible whole (an individuum). This is an interesting further specification of the Latin text, and certainly not the other way around, as Gebhardt implies!” Akkerman suggests that the NS variation reflects an explanation Spinoza gave his friends in the Amsterdam Spinoza circle. That they should have requested an explanation of this difficult demonstration “goes to show the high level of discussions” in the circle.

28 What Gebhardt adds here from the NS (which may be translated: “or without there being an idea of it in the mind.”) is probably, as Akkerman suggests (2, 161) only a translator’s gloss.

29 The NS have the indefinite article here and throughout the demonstration, but most modern translators agree in supplying a definite article, and the reference to A4 in the demonstration seems to require this.

30 OP: “& Corpus humanum, prout ipsum sentimus, existere”; NS: “en dat het menschelijk lighaam, gelijk wij het zelfde gewaarworden, wezentlijk is.” Gueroult (1, 2:137) renders this in French as “le Corps humain existe pour autant que nous le sentons,” “the human body exists insofar as we are aware of it,” and rejects “comme” and “tel que” (which would correspond to ‘as’) on the ground that it is evident that in itself the body is not as it is represented to us by (bodily) sensation. This may be true, but it does not seem to me that Gueroult’s rendering is justified by either the Latin or the Dutch.

31 This striking statement is open to very different interpretations. Cf. Wolfson 1, 2:58. Gueroult (1, 2:143-144, and 164-165) restricts its scope by understanding “individual” to apply only to the composite bodies of II/99/26ff.

32 There are three propositions designated as “Axiom 1” in this part of the Ethics. I shall distinguish this one from the others as A1′; and similarly for the “Axiom 2” which follows.

33 Spinoza’s version of the principle of inertia here seems to be stated in terms which put him in direct opposition to Descartes’ doctrine of continuous creation. In Principles I, 21, Descartes derives the need for God’s continuous conservation from the fact that (the parts of time being independent of one another) it does not follow from our existing now that we shall also exist at the next moment (in tempore proxime sequenti), unless the same cause which first produced us reproduces us. Spinoza does not make it quite explicit that it follows from A’s being at rest at one time that it will be at rest at a later time (unless some cause intervenes to initiate motion), since he puts it negatively—viz. nothing else follows. But cf. III P4-P8 and Gueroult 1, 2:152, on Spinoza’s relation here to Descartes and Hobbes.

34 Again I distinguish this “Axiom 1” from the others in this part by designating it A1″. Similarly for the following Axiom.

35 On the importance of this Cartesian principle for Hobbes and Spinoza, see Gueroult 1, 2:155n.

36 As Akkerman suggests (2, 161), this addition is probably to be ascribed to the translator.

37 On this, cf. Joachim 1, 83n, and Gueroult 1, 2:161-162.

38 As various commentators have noted, we have here Spinoza’s variation on the classic theme of macrocosm and microcosm. Cf. Wolfson 1, 2:7; Gueroult 1, 2:169; and Maimonides 1, I, Lxxii.

39 Gebhardt’s additions from the NS here are clearly no more than the translator’s work. Cf. Akkerman 2, 161.

40 The translator is filling out an abbreviated indication of the conclusion. Cf. II/48/15 and Akkerman 2, 161.

41 NS: “P3C.” As Gebhardt notes, this must be wrong (there is no P3C and in any case, the citation is corrected in the errata to the NS). But the reference might well be to P3.

42 Robinson (314) objected that Spinoza had gone further than his premises warrant by saying “more than.” Gueroult’s discussion is helpful (1, 2:196-197). He notes that in speaking of the “nature” of external bodies, Spinoza has in mind seventeenth-century mechanistic accounts of the physiology of perception, according to which a sensation like that of heat would be caused by the rapid motion of very small particles, a motion of which the sensation itself gives no indication.

43 Probably we should read “affection” here (as at l. 25). The NS have “mode.”

44 What Gebhardt adds from the NS is, as Akkerman observes (2, 187), not incorrect, but also not necessary, given the reference to P16C2 in l. 31. Gebhardt’s “dat deel,” however, is a misprint for “dit deel.”

45 Gueroult (1, 2:247) comments that this “or” marks neither an identity, nor an alternative or opposition, but is intended to limit and make more precise the preceding clause.

46 NS: “of things.”

47 Consistency with the proposition to be proven and the reference to P11C would both argue for adding “adequately” here.

48 Perhaps, as Meijer and Gebhardt suggested, we should read “P11C.”

49 NS: “of things.” On this alteration, see Gueroult 1, 2:246n.

50 What Gebhardt adds here from the NS (which may be translated: “i.e. [by P13], this Knowledge is not in God insofar as he constitutes the nature of the human Mind”) Akkerman (2, 151) rejects as the translator’s attempt to clarify a difficult passage for himself and his friends.

51 What Gebhardt here adds from the NS, Gueroult (1, 2:280, n. 16) regards as a deliberate omission from the OP. I see no good reason to regard it as incorrect, but Akkerman is probably right (2, 149) that it is only a translator’s clarification.

52 What Gebhardt adds here from the NS is almost certainly nothing more than an attempt by the translator to deal with the technical term ideatum by a double translation. Cf. Akkerman 2, 88.

53 What Gebhardt adds here from the NS (“of knowledge”), Parkinson (121n.) rejects as making the continuation-of the sentence pointless. Akkerman, who ascribes it to the translator (2, 161), also thinks it incorrect.

54 The phrases added here from the NS are almost certainly translator’s glosses (cf. Akkerman 2, 161), but helpful ones, I think.

55 As many commentators (e.g., Wolfson, Gueroult) have remarked, this last seems aimed at Descartes’ doctrine that the pineal gland is the principal seat of the soul (Passions of the Soul I, 31-32). Descartes, of course, was not the only previous philosopher to assign a particular location in the body to the soul. Others had favored the heart, as Descartes himself points (Passions I, 33). But the tone of Spinoza’s criticism in the Preface to EV suggests that this aspect of the Cartesian philosophy did tend to provoke both ridicule and disgust.

56 This example occurs frequently in Spinoza (cf. II/11, 30, 210, 211). It is quite traditional, going back (as Wolfson pointed out) to Aristotle’s De Anima 428b2-4. But Spinoza seems to be indebted to Descartes for his estimates of distance; the figure of (100-)200 feet for the imagined distance of the sun is given in La Dioptrique (AT VI, 144); that of 600(-700) diameters of the Earth for the true distance is given in the Principles III, 5.

57 This is the first explicit appearance in the Ethics of the doctrine of common notions (though there has been a suggestion of it in P29S). On its connection with similar doctrines of other authors (Aristotle, the Stoics, Hobbes, Descartes) see Gueroult 1, 2:332, 354, 358-362, 581-582, and Wolfson 1, 2:117-130.

58 NS: “not insofar as he is finite.” Gebhardt takes this to indicate the reading of the original manuscript. But “finite” is corrected in the errata. Gueroult (1, 2:544) takes the immediately following phrase—“nor insofar as he is affected with the ideas of a great many singular things”—to be a gloss on this phrase, i.e., to indicate one sense in which God may be said to be infinite. This has some plausibility if we paraphrase “a great many,” as Gueroult does, by “un ensemble infini.” But there does not seem to be any reason for that paraphrase, and it seems more natural to take Spinoza to be mentioning a separate condition.

59 No doubt what Gebhardt adds here from the NS is another instance of the translator’s making more explicit a conclusion that Spinoza’s ms. indicated in a more summary fashion (cf. Akkerman 2, 149).

60 This scholium is unnumbered both in the OP and NS. Gebhardt inferred from that, and from subsequent references to an unnumbered IIP40S (at 140/10 and 228/2), that originally these scholia were one, that Spinoza subsequently divided that scholium in two, and that the subsequent references are to both scholia. Akkerman (2, 82) takes the second scholium to be a later addition and the subsequent references to be to this first scholium.

61 So the OP read. The apparent variation in the NS seems to reflect the translator’s quandary when he encounters in the same phrase both axioma and notio, each of which he has previously translated by (gemene) kundigheid (cf. Akkerman 2, 166). Appuhn emended “notions” to “common notions,” an alteration which Akkerman considers unnecessary, but not, it seems, incorrect, appealing to l. 15. Gueroult (1, 2:362, n. 79) regards it as incorrect, appealing to 11. 18-21.

62 Gueroult (1, 2:364) cites Zabarella, De Natura Logicae, as an example of the usual scholastic explanation of this term: “Some terms signify the concept of a thing, like man, animal; but others signify the concept of a concept, like genus, species, word, statement, reasoning, and other things of that kind. The latter are called second notions.” Wolfson (1, 2:122) argues that Spinoza is not using “second notions” in its usual sense, but in one derived from Maimonides, where it is equivalent to “conclusion of a demonstrative syllogism.” For a rebuttal, see Gueroult 1, 2:587-589.

63 Or, perhaps: “at one time.” Cf. Joachim 2, 12, n. 3.

64 Of which the present Treatise on the Emendation of the Intellect may be regarded as at least a draft.

65 Gebhardt (II/364) gives the following reading for the NS: “algemene kundigheden/Notiones universales,” “universal notions.” Algemene kundigheden is what we should expect if Notiones universales is correct. But the NS has gemene kundigheden (the usual translation for notiones communes), though it has Notiones universales in the margin.

66 For the clause beginning “because we infer …” the NS have: because we need to think only of the particular ratio of the first two numbers, and not of the universal property of proportional numbers.” Akkerman (2, 166) thinks this may be Spinoza’s attempt to clarify the Latin text, but may equally well stem from the translator.

67 Most of Gebhardt’s additions to this scholium from the NS seem to be simply translator’s glosses (cf. Akkerman 2, 149, 161). Where they appeared to me to be genuinely helpful, I have translated them. The phrases he introduces into the text at ll. 26-27, 35, and 37 represent no more than the translator’s attempt to deal with ideatum through a double translation and I have not translated them.

68 The idea, it seems, involves God’s essence only insofar as that essence is expressed through the attribute under which the idea’s object is conceived, not insofar as God’s essence is expressed in infinitely many attributes. Cf. Gueroult 1, 1:54.

69 Following Appuhn, whose translation here agrees with that of the NS.

70 Subsequently (IIIP9S) Spinoza distinguishes between will and desire in somewhat different terms; hence Meijer wanted to emend the text so that it would be translated: “… it should be noted that by will I here understand.…” Gebhardt points out the text of the OP is confirmed by the NS. But while the text is probably not corrupt, the emenders are right to emphasize the provisional character of this distinction. Cf. Gueroult 1, 2:492-493, and Appuhn, 3:358-359.

71 An allusion to Descartes’ doctrine of the pineal gland. Cf. the Passions of the Soul I, 31-32. Akkerman (2, 149) regards what Gebhardt adds to the text from the NS in the next line as the work of the translator, but “an intelligent addition” nonetheless.

72 I introduce essentially the division of this scholium suggested by Gueroult (1, 2:505). The “common doctrine” regarding the cause of error is the Cartesian doctrine of the Fourth Meditation, that error occurs because man’s will is distinct from, and more extensive than, his intellect. The phrases Gebhardt adds from the NS in these first two paragraphs are probably translator’s glosses.

73 What Gebhardt adds here from the NS (which might be translated: “and of the sciences”) is probably only the translator’s attempt to capture the connotations of speculatio through a double translation. Cf. Akkerman 2, 89. The variations which appear in the following paragraph, not all of which are mentioned by Gebhardt, are probably translator’s glosses.

74 We have, again, the same comparison as in P43S. Since Descartes generally insisted on drawing a sharp distinction between ideas and images (e.g., at the beginning of the Sixth Meditation, or in his reply to Hobbes’ fifth objection), it is curious to see a central tenet of his doctrine of judgment traced to a confusion of ideas with images. On this see Curley 5 and Gueroult 1, 2:509.

75 Gueroult (1, 2:509) suggests, with some plausibility, that Spinoza has Hobbes in mind here. However, Hobbes rejected Descartes’ doctrine of judgment, and criticized it on grounds which might have inspired Spinoza’s own criticisms here. In his thirteenth objection to the Meditations he distinguishes between the affirmation which is an act of the will—by which he seems to mean an act involving the use of words—and the internal assent which is not.

76 Buridan’s ass was supposed to be perishing of both hunger and thirst, and placed at an equal distance from food and drink. But it seems that neither the particular example nor the doctrine it is intended to support are rightly attributed to Buridan. See Wolfson 1, 2:178, and Gueroult 1, 2:513.

77 I.e., not a rational being, as the more explicit NS translation brings out.

78 Part of what Gebhardt adds here, the part I have translated, is probably just a translator’s elaboration. Part of it is misplaced, representing words which in fact occur in the NS as translating l. 29.

79 The NS, in a variation not mentioned by Gebhardt, gloss “embrace” as “be able to bring under a universal being.”

80 Gebhardt notes that the NS reads quite differently at this point: “Because they believe that this universal volition of everything, or this universal idea of the will, is a faculty of our mind.…” He conjectures that the NS represents the first draft and incorporates the phrase “of our mind” in his text on the basis of that conjecture. Akkerman (2, 149) more plausibly suggests that the divergence comes from the translator’s misreading volitionum as volitionem.

81 At this point the NS add an example which is absent from the OP: “as the definition of man must be attributed wholly and equally to each particular man.” Gebhardt incorporates the example in the text, but mislocates it, and consequently gives a misleading picture of the variation between the two texts. Cf. Akkerman 2, 81. In l. 4 I follow the punctuation of the OP rather than that of Gebhardt, who follows the NS.

82 The words Gebhardt incorporates from the NS would make this read: “If you consider only the mind and not the words.” Akkerman (2, 149) rejects this as a translator’s elaboration.

83 Cf. Wolfson 1, 2:178-179, on this phrase.

84 Both the OP and the NS read “Third Part” here. But as Gebhardt remarks this clearly comes from a time when the Third, Fourth, and Fifth Parts formed one part.

1 Akkerman (2, 69) suggests that the title should read “On the Nature and Origin of the Affects.” Cf. the title of Part II and II/186/9.

2 Akkerman (2, 70), appealing to the NS, suggests reading: “But so far no one, to my knowledge, has determined the true nature and powers of the Affects.”

3 Cf. PA I, 50.

4 Akkerman (2, 71) notes an allusion here to Micio’s monologue on moral education in Terence’s Adelphi (68ff.). Other allusions to this speech occur at 203/5ff., and 244/18ff. As Appuhn observes (3:370) Spinoza seems to have been much impressed with Micio’s contention that a father should accustom his son to do right from inclination rather than from fear (cf. E IVP18). From the frequency of references to Terence’s works in general, it appears that Spinoza knew them well. Van den Enden, from whom Spinoza learned his Latin, used student performances of classical plays as a means of instruction, and Spinoza may well have taken part in these. Cf. Meinsma, 185ff. and Akkerman 2, 9. Spinoza’s acquaintance with classical authors (not only Terence, but also Ovid, Tacitus, Sallust, Livy, Cicero and Seneca) seems to have greatly influenced his psychology, ethics and political theory.

5 See the note at I/120/15.

6 An addition suggested by Gueroult 1, 2:544. Cf. l.15.

7 White proposed to read “ideas” here (and at l. 27), pointing out that IIP11C reads that way. But both the OP and the NS support “Minds,” and it is not unusual for Spinoza to paraphrase previous statements when he cites them in proofs.

8 Wolfson (1, 2:190) plausibly suggests PA I, 7-17, as the target of this.

9 OP: iners. The NS glosses this: “without power or incapable.” Similarly at l. 27. If “inactive” were interpreted to mean “without motion,” then Descartes could not be the intended opponent, since he held the body to be capable of much movement without the aid of the soul (PA, I, 16).

10 According to Wolfson (1, 2:191) an argument like this may be found in Saadia.

11 Cf. Terence, Andria, 266, and the note at 138/11.

12 PA I, 42.

13 Wolfson (1, II, 192) opposes this to Descartes’ statement (PA I, 2) that what is a passion in the soul is generally an action in the body. He also suggests that by “singular things” here Spinoza means “bodies.”

14 Wolfson ((1), II, 192) contends that “thing” here means “our body,” appealing to P10D. But the statement there is surely better regarded as an instantiation of P5, rather than a paraphrase of it. If P5 were not fully general, then P6 could not have the generality Spinoza wants it to have.

15 It is unclear whether quantum in se est should be regarded as an occurrence of the technical phrase used in the definition of substance (as Elwes and White suggest by translating insofar as it is in itself) or merely as an occurrence of an ordinary Latin idiom, which might be rendered as far as it lies in itself or as far as it lies in its own power. Caillois (Pléiade, 1433) favors the latter alternative, referring us to Descartes’ Principles of Philosophy II, 37 and to Spinoza’s version of this at I/201. See also Cohen.

16 Cf. Hobbes, Leviathan vi. Descartes, on the other hand, classes desire among the passions born of the consideration of good and evil. Cf. PA II, 57, 86.

17 Gebhardt reads: “conatus,” which would require a translation like “the first and principal [sc. thing that constitutes the essence?] of our Mind is the striving to affirm the existence of our Body.” Akkerman (2, 65) argues persuasively for the reading of the OP and NS: “conatûs,” which yields what I have given in the text. Either reading seems to me to require the English translator to supply some noun for “first and principal” to modify. But “tendency” is only a suggestion.

18 Descartes (PA II, 69), by contrast, recognizes six primitive passions. In addition to desire, joy, and sadness: love, hate, and wonder. For a survey of other reductionist programs, see Bidney, 67-75.

19 It is difficult to see the relevance of IIP8 here, and some have thought this must be a mistake, though there is no agreement on what proposition should have been cited. IIP17, IIP18, and IIP6 have all been suggested. Gebhardt (II/369) defends the text of the OP, on obscure grounds. Bennett suggests (in correspondence) IIP7, which is said (at IIIP2S) to support IIIP2, which in turn supports the conclusion here.

20 Following Akkerman (2, 162) who proposes to read: “tanquam a sua vera causa” (cf. NS).

21 In the OP this scholium is not numbered and there are subsequent references (at 177/26 and 195/2) to P18S, without any numbering. Gebhardt inferred from this that originally the two scholia were one, and that the subsequent references were to SI and S2 collectively. But the NS number both scholia, and some subsequent references are to numbered scholia (e.g., at 177/31 and 210/5). Akkerman (2, 81-2) rejects Gebhardt’s theory and takes the unnumbered references both to be to S1. Cf. IIP40S1.

22 This means, I think, the affects that arise from the process of association described in P16.

23 Meijer plausibly proposed to emend the text to read: “… while that sadness which stems … is called scorn.” In favor of this it may be said that later (at I/195/28-196/7) scorn is so defined that it involves hate, which in turn involves sadness. Against the emendation it may be argued that in virtue of P20 any thought that involves the destruction (or diminution) of a hated object must involve joy. The text may well be correct, but the controversy underlines the complexity this affect must, in Spinoza’s psychology, possess.

24 NS: “an affection like this affection of our body.” This appears to reflect a mistranslation rather than a textual variation. For a discussion of inaccuracies in Glazemaker’s translations, see Akkerman 2, 137-145.

25 This last sentence is made part of the demonstration in both the OP and the NS. But the demonstration has reached its conclusion in the preceding sentence, and this takes up a different, though related point, which perhaps belongs in a scholium or corollary.

a N.B. Here and in what follows you should understand men toward whom we do not have any affect.

26 Here and in subsequent scholia the previous practice of italicizing new definitions has not been maintained in the text of the OP. I take the liberty of introducing italics as they seem appropriate.

27 OP: “external,” both here and in ll.27-28; NS: “internal,” in both places. Van Vloten and Land retained the OP readings, Appuhn and others, the NS. Gebhardt follows the OP in l. 24, the NS in ll. 27-28, a compromise vigorously rejected by Akkerman (2, 69-70, 188-189), who recommends following the NS, as I have done. It seems clear that the OP compositor, influenced by the appearance of “external” three times earlier in this scholium, misread the ms. and failed to see that Spinoza intended to draw a contrast between love and hate in their simplest forms and the four more complex forms enumerated in ll. 24-29. What lends plausibility to the OP reading is the fact that the joy and sadness whose origin is described in P30 are explicitly said to be species of love and hate (at ll. 21-22), from which it follows that they must involve the idea of an external cause. But this does not exclude the possibility of their involving also the idea of an internal cause (as Akkerman seems to assume, 189). I take it that this is Spinoza’s point: the four more complex forms of love and hate defined in ll. 24-29 arise from the fact that I believe myself (perhaps mistakenly) to have caused joy or sadness to another, thereby causing myself joy or sadness. In either case, I am the indirect cause of joy (or sadness) to myself. But the idea of the other as a subject of the joy (or sadness) I (take myself to) have caused is indispensable to this particular form of joy (or sadness). So my affect does involve the idea of something external as its partial and immediate cause, viz. the other’s affect. If the other praises (or blames) me for what I have done, my joy (or sadness) is love of esteem (or shame). If not—perhaps because he is not aware that I am the cause of his joy (or sadness), or perhaps because I am mistaken in my belief that I am the cause—then my joy (sadness) is self-esteem (repentance).

Spinoza might have made his point clearer had he written (at ll. 22-23): “But because Love and Hate, considered simply as such, involve only the idea of an external object as cause, we shall use other terms for these more complex affects which also involve the idea of ourselves as a cause of our joy or sadness.” Cf. 196/19-199/19. Although the account there is in some ways more refined than that given here (e.g., in the distinction drawn between humility and repentance), taken as a whole it supports the NS version of the text, and not, as Gebhardt thought, his compromise solution.

28 The verses are from Ovid’s Amores II, xix, 4, 5 (though Spinoza has transposed the lines). There is much room for difference of opinion about their translation. See, for example, Appuhn 3:362. The Spinozistic context virtually requires something like Elwes’ version: “As lovers, let us share every hope and fear: iron-hearted were he who should love what the other leaves.” The Ovidian context, however, seems to require something more like Lee’s free, but spirited version. The poet-lover addresses (in imagination) his mistress’ husband:

Guard your girl, stupid—if only to please me.

I want to want her more.

I’m bored by what’s allowed, what isn’t fascinates me.

Love by another man’s leave is too cold-blooded.

Lovers need a co-existence of hope and fear—

A few disappointments help us to dream.

(Ovid, Amores, trans. Guy Lee [London: John Murray, 1968], my italics to emphasize the lines Spinoza quotes.) Differences of literary style apart, the key question is whether sinit should be translated “leaves (alone)” or “allows.” If it is possible to suppose that Spinoza here understands the lines as Lee does, and if Gebhardt’s reading of II/271/21-22 is correct, then the reference there to this corollary would be more intelligible.

b This can happen (by P15C and P16).

29 Cf. Seneca, Epist. mor., ix, 6.

30 The OP read simply: “P18S,” which Gebhardt takes as a reference to both scholia (cf. my note at 154/24 and Gebhardt’s note to 177/26, at II/373-374). Leopold had taken the reference to be to P18S2. Akkerman (2, 81-82) argues that it should be to P18S1. I think Leopold is clearly right here. Granted that P18S2 by itself gives no foundation for P50, nevertheless, the definitions it gives of hope and fear as species of joy and sadness show how the demonstration of P15 can easily be modified to yield a proof of P50, by substituting the definiens for the definiendum.

31 Following Akkerman (2, 190) who reads “causae” for “causa” both in l. 30 and in l. 31.

c N.B. This can happen even though the human mind is part of the divine intellect, as we have shown in IIP17S.32

32 So the OP and NS both read. Most editors have had difficulty seeing the relevance of the reference to IIP17S and have suggested as alternatives either IIP11C or IIP13S or perhaps both. Without questioning the relevance of IIP13S (specifically II/97/7-14), I would suggest that there is no pressing need to emend the text, since the discussion of error at II/106/11-18 is equally relevant to explaining how men can vary in judgment.

33 Akkerman suggests reading “naturae” for “natura” in l. 14 (2, 68) and adding “ex eo” after the first ampersand in l. 15 (2, 162), both of which emendations are suggested by the NS and followed here.

34 The NS make “singular” modify “imagination” rather than “thing,” which is not impossible grammatically, perhaps, but nonetheless, clearly wrong in my view. In general, I mention translation errors in the NS only where they do not appear on Akkerman’s list (2, 137-145). There are many more of them in Parts III-V than in Parts I-II, which is an important part of Akkerman’s evidence for supposing that E I-II were translated by Balling and E III-V by Glazemaker.

35 The point seems to be simply that accidents of linguistic usage may leave the psychological system-builder without a natural way of referring to certain emotions.

36 Cf. PA II, 82, 84, 88.

37 Bidney (110) notes a similar doctrine in Aristotle (Nicomachean Ethics 1176a).

38 Gebhardt emends the text of the OP, appealing to the NS and P11, but does not make all the changes required by grammar. On his construal we should read “potentiam” for “potentia” and translate: “By Sadness we understand what diminishes or restrains the Mind’s power of acting.” This is possible, as Akkerman (2, 67-68) points out, citing 168/20-21. But he argues persuasively for retaining the text of the OP, which is what I have translated, and regarding the NS translation as simply mistaken. On his construal, this passage would be more accurate than 168/20-21, since, strictly speaking, sadness is not a thing which diminishes another thing, but the process itself of the diminution of the mind’s power.

39 Nearly all of the terms that follow have been previously introduced in scholia. And as Wolfson has pointed out, most of the terms occur in the Latin translation of Descartes’ Passions of the Soul, published in Amsterdam in 1650. Wolfson (1, 2:209-210) gives a helpful table correlating Spinoza’s definitions with the relevant sections of Descartes’ work. Spinoza’s definitions of his three primitive affects are quite different from the corresponding Cartesian definitions, so that even where the definitions of derived affects seem to agree, this agreement is superficial. His definitions here also differ frequently from those which appear earlier in Part III in the Scholia.

40 Descartes gives wonder a very prominent (if somewhat anomalous) place among the passions of the soul. Cf. Alquié, 3:999n.

41 Spinoza may have in mind Descartes, PA 79. (Earlier, however, in PA 56, Descartes had given an account of love closer to Spinoza’s.) In any case, he need not have only one opponent in mind. The conception of love here objected to goes back as far as Plato’s Symposium (191-192), and Spinoza himself seems not to have been free of it in the Short Treatise (cf. I/62).

42 NS: “definitions.” Akkerman (2, 92) suggests that the NS translator has misread a final “m” as an “s.”

43 Cf. PA II, 80.

44 Cf. Hobbes, Leviathan I, 6.

45 Cf. Seneca, Epist. mor., v, 7: “Just as the same chain binds both the prisoner and his guardian, so these things, though so unlike, march together: fear follows hope.” Similarly Descartes, PA 165, 166.

46 So White, Appuhn et al., render Spe pendet. Elwes has “depends on hope,” which is supported by the NS. Cf. II/246/15.

47 The OP and NS have simply: “scholium.” Gebhardt emends to “scholia.” Cf. the note at 154/24. Akkerman (2, 82) seems clearly right to contend that P18S1 is intended.

48 OP: “praeter Spem evenit.” In his corrigenda (II/393) Gebhardt proposed emending to praeter Metum. No argument was offered, but unless the text is emended, we must give praeter a different translation here than we do in Def. XVII, where the same Latin phrase occurs (praeter Spem = “beyond our hope” in Def. XVI, but = “contrary to our hope” in Def. XVII). Against Gebhardt’s emendation is the fact that the text as it stands echoes a line in Terence (Andria, 436) and is supported by the NS. If a change must be made, I would prefer to make it in Def. XVII rather than in Def. XVI. But it is not clear that a change is necessary. While Bidney (197) may not be correct to say that the terms “hope” and “fear” are interchangeable, his interpretation of the definitions seems sensible otherwise.

49 It is clear from this and similar remarks (e.g., at II/180) that Spinoza does not intend to give an analysis of ordinary language. It may, therefore, seem churlish for a commentator to complain when translators are guided, in their choice of terms for the affects, more by Spinoza’s definitions than by the ordinary meaning of the terms defined (cf. Bidney, 2-4 and the glossary entry on remorse). The translators’ practice need not reflect a desire to make Spinoza always speak the truth, no matter what the possible cost in distortion of his meaning.

Still, though Spinoza’s definitions are not subject to the constraints analysis of ordinary language would impose, neither are they wholly stipulative. They are intended to have explanatory force, to give us insight into the nature of familiar emotions by indicating their cause. Cf. the theory of definitions in the TdIE, §§ 93-98. (Note that Spinoza’s definitions of the affects are developed gradually through the course of his deductive treatment of the affects. They do not precede it, as the axiomatic model would lead us to expect.)

If that is the intent, then the translator does not have a free hand in translating the terms for the affects. For example, Spinoza’s definition of amor may not be one which an analyst of ordinary language would give, since ordinary usage probably does not entail any theory about the cause of amor. It may also be the case that amor, as Spinoza defines it, does not have the same extension amor as ordinarily used has. The two terms may not pick out exactly the same class of emotions. But there must, at least, be considerable overlap in the extensions of the terms. Spinoza’s situation (to borrow an analogy from Hilary Putnam, “Dreaming and ‘Depth Grammar,’” in Analytical Philosophy, ed. R. J. Butler, 1st series [Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1966]) is like that of a chemist introducing a new theoretical definition of a term like acid. The chemist’s definition may lead to some reclassification of chemical substances. But if the term’s range of application, as newly defined, were not closely related to its former range of application, there would be no improvement of our understanding, there would only be confusion.

50 NS: “comes nearest to.”

51 The problem here is partly the etymological connection of misericordia with miser, ‘wretched, unhappy.’

52 In fact, as Appuhn notes, Spinoza never does return to the topic of shamelessness.

53 So the text of the OP runs, and it is supported by the NS. Meijer and Baensch proposed emending the text to read: “a Desire by which we are roused to do evil to one whom we love or pity.” The idea would be that P41CS implies that cruelty arises when one person hates another, finds his hate returned by love, and suffers a conflict of love and hate in which hate prevails (without, it seems, entirely extinguishing the love). I believe the sequence from Def. XXXVI to Def. XXXVIII makes better sense if we accept the emendation. Anger is the basic form of desire to do evil to someone. Vengeance is anger complicated by the fact that our hate is returned. And cruelty is anger complicated by emotions conflicting with our hate.

Gebhardt retains the OP reading, partly because the only love explicitly mentioned in P41CS is the victim’s love for the one who is cruel, but partly because he thinks the emended definition would imply an unfavorable judgment on the activities of jailers and hangmen. This doesn’t seem to follow, and the first reason seems insufficient. Akkerman (2, 191), while defending the OP reading of the text, suggests a way of interpreting it that would make it equivalent to the emendation. He notes that “aliquis” and “nos” are both used in the preceding and following definitions (34-40) to refer to the bearer of the affect defined, so “it may not after all be impossible that aliquis and nos in defin. 38 refer to the same person, the bearer of the affect.”

In favor of retaining the text of the OP, Jonathan Bennett suggests (in correspondence) that “the point of D38 may be that ‘cruel’ is a term which nobody uses without giving it a load of moral condemnation, and that emerges—given Spinoza’s meta-ethics—simply as the condition that the speaker loves or pities the victim of the so-called ‘cruelty.’” He draws attention to the fact that in P41CS Spinoza says that the affect is called cruelty especially when it is believed that the victim has given no ordinary cause for hatred. He takes this as indicating that “cruel” involves “a more than usually speaker-relative or subjective element.”

Bennett’s suggestion is quite plausible, but I still think the emendation has merit.

54 Pro Archia XI.

55 Again, both language and thought here are reminiscent of Terence, in this case, the Adelphi, 69-71. Cf. the note at 138/11.

56 Previously (II/139) Spinoza has defined an affect as a certain kind of affection of the body together with the idea of that affection.

1 An echo of a well-known line from Ovid, which will be quoted in P17S, and to which we have already had an allusion at II/143/22-23.

2 In Latin this is a patent tautology. See the Glossary-Index entry on perfection.

3 The NS have simply “God” here, and again at ll. 26-27.

4 See the note at II/117/30.

5 It would appear that Spinoza originally had at least three axioms in this Part. See Gebhardt II/377, and below, at II/215/5 and 230/2. Though only one remains, it will simplify subsequent references to give it a number.

6 The OP does have: “by A1.” This is corrected in the errata to: “by the Axiom.”

7 Reading “rem ut praesentem,” as suggested by Akkerman (2, 178).

8 Accepting Akkerman’s defense and interpretation of the OP text (2, 90-91).

9 Cf. Descartes, PA I, 47-79.

10 Some editors (e.g., Van Vloten and Land, Baensch, Appuhn, Caillois, and Akkerman) have thought that the reference here should be to IIIP1.

11 Ovid, Metamorphoses VII, 20-21: “I see and approve the better, but follow the worse.” (Medea is torn between reason’s demand that she obey her father and her passion for Jason.) These lines are often quoted, or alluded to, in seventeenth-century discussions of freedom of the will. Cf. Descartes, Letter to Mesland, 9 Feb. 1645; Hobbes, “Of Liberty and Necessity,” EW IV, p. 269; Locke, Essay, II, xxi. 35.

12 Eccles. 1:18.

13 An allusion to Terence’s Eunuch, 232, as Leopold pointed out.

14 “Cumbersome” renders “prolixus,” which might be translated “full” (White) or “detailed” (Elwes). But the same term is used in a similar context in the Prolegomenon to Descartes’ Principles (I/141/14), and I take it that Spinoza feels somewhat defensive about his preferred manner of writing, recognizing that it makes great demands on the reader’s patience and perseverance, and will inevitably encounter resistance. This is no doubt the reason for the summations at the end of Parts Three and Four.

15 Spinoza’s moral thought shows the influence of the Stoics in many ways. But as Appuhn notes, his treatment of suicide marks an important point of difference from the Stoics. It is true that Spinoza does not condemn suicide, but neither does he regard it as an act which could ever be virtuous, much less paradigmatically free. So Caillois is wrong to argue that even on this point Spinoza is a Stoic (Pléiade, 1439). For an excellent discussion of the various Stoic positions see Rist, 233-255.

16 Gebhardt takes the reference to indicate an earlier state of the ms., when the present two scholia to IIP40 were one. Akkerman (2, 82) takes IIP40S2 to be a later addition, and this reference to be to P40S1, which originally required no distinguishing number. But P40S2 (specifically ll. 11-14) seems more relevant than anything in P40S1. Appuhn, Baensch, Caillois, and Leopold all assume that reference.

17 NS: “the mind’s power.” Given the content of IIP10C, this is probably just a mistake.

18 So the OP read. The errata of the OP, followed by the NS, “correct” to “the axiom of this part.” Other emendations have been proposed: IA3(?), IVD1 (plausible), IVD2,3(?). Gebhardt is probably right to think that originally this part had at least three axioms of which two were later dropped. Akkerman, who points out additional evidence in favor of this theory (2, 192, alluding to the marginalia corresponding to 210/24), conjectures a reconstruction of the missing axiom: “From the nature of a singular thing which is neither good nor evil, nothing can follow which aids the preservation of our nature.” If this is correct, one can understand Spinoza’s thinking it sufficiently obvious, given his definitions of good and evil, that it would not need to appear as a separate assumption.

19 Ultimately this goes back to Aristotle’s Politics, 1253a3. But the formula is also Stoic. Cf. Seneca, De clementia, I, iii, 2.

20 Meijer thought that this remark should be placed at the end of the Scholium and put in the future tense, a plausible suggestion, since Scholium 2 is the first substantial account of Spinoza’s political philosophy. But the foundations of that philosophy in human nature have already been laid in the various propositions cited in Scholium 2. So Gebhardt is probably right to retain the text of the OP.

21 Here I translate Gebhardt’s text (firmari), which is that of the OP. But I think there is more plausibility than he would admit in Tönnies’ suggestion that we should read formari, ‘formed’ or ‘established.’ Tönnies appealed to a parallel passage in the Theological-Political Treatise (III/193/20). But for vindicet (l. 10) I accept Akkerman’s reinstatement of the OP: vendicet. Cf. Akkerman 2, 85 and the NS.

22 Gebhardt (1, 170) suggests that this was probably Góngora, whose works Spinoza possessed, and who lost his memory a year before his death. Why does Spinoza think that cases like this (and the one described in the following paragraph) might provide the superstitious with material for raising new questions (cf. ll. 31-33)? Perhaps because they encourage speculation about the possibility of transmigration of souls, or perhaps because they encourage the postulation of an immaterial spiritual substance to provide a principle of personal identity unaffected by radical changes in the constitution of the body. That Spinoza was concerned at an early stage about the latter of these issues, at least, seems clear from the long note to the Preface to Part II of the KV (I/51/16-52/41). For discussion of the controversy about personal identity as it was pursued by other figures in the period, see Curley 11.

23 Part of the point is that infans is connected etymologically with fari, ‘to speak,’ so that an infant is literally someone incapable of speech.

24 It is fitting that this defense of laughter, the theater, and amusement in general, contains one of many allusions in the Ethics to Terence, in this case, to the Adelphi, 68.

25 Appuhn (3:371) notes the affinity between Spinoza’s moral conclusions and those of Nietzsche. This appears also in his evaluations of humility and repentance (P53, P54) and in his sketch of the free man’s life (P67-P73). Though the differences of temperament and style are, of course, tremendous, the affinity is, I think, rooted in an anticipation of the idea of a will to power (cf. IIIP11, P12).

26 The OP have risu, ‘laughter,’ which is confirmed by the NS. But after P45C2S, this is very surprising. Gebhardt retains risu without comment, but Appuhn and Elwes both translate as if we had irrisione, and I follow their example.

27 Van der Tak suggests a number of possible sources for this motto, among them: Franciscus de le Boe (a professor at the University of Leiden), the Dutch poet Jacob Cats, and ultimately, Psalms 64:11 (63:11 in the Vulgate).

28 What Gebhardt adds here from the NS (which might be translated: “or to have stripped himself of all humanity”) is probably only a translator’s elaboration of the text, rather than an indication of something that has been omitted in the OP. Cf. Akkerman 2, 89.

29 Here begins a whole sequence of classical allusions: in ll. 12-13 to Terence’s Adelphi, 174; in 11. 14-16, to the Adelphi, 84; and in l. 16 to Tacitus, Annales, I, 29. Cf. Leopold and Akkerman, 2, 27. The comment about the mob will be discussed more critically in the Political Treatise VII, 27, but Spinoza’s experience of the assassination of the de Witts no doubt confirmed it.

30 As Appuhn notes, the parasite or flatterer was a stock figure in Latin comedy, like the braggart soldier. Cf. Terence’s Eunuch, which is alluded to at ll.14-15 in the scholium.

31 OP: conservetur, ‘preserved.’ But as Leopold pointed out, the NS have: waargenomen, which suggests that they read: observetur. Gebhardt rejects the emendation without offering a satisfactory reason. Cf. Akkerman 2, 94.

32 The OP has tantum, ‘only,’ here, a reading which is supported by the NS. Meijer proposed to suppress it. Baensch and Appuhn followed him in this, and in the related suggestion that the reference should be to P43 and P44, rather than P41 and P43. Gebhardt accepts the suppression of tantum, but then produces a convincing argument for retaining the reference to P41. This seems an illogical compromise, and I see no difficulty in following the OP. Cf. Akkerman 2, 182.

33 Here and below (II/260/1) the OP has “by the Corollary of the preceding Proposition.” But clearly P63C is intended. So P64 and its corollary appear to be later additions.

34 Appuhn contrasts this with Plato’s dictum in the Phaedo, 67e: “The true philosophers practice dying, and death is less terrible to them than to any other men.” But it seems more likely that Spinoza has in mind Seneca, who contended that to relieve oneself of the fear of death one must meditate regularly on its inevitability. Cf. his Epistulae morales IV, 5, 9. Russell, in his well-known essay, “A Free Man’s Worship,” seems closer to Seneca than to Spinoza. Cf. Russell, 112-115.

35 OP: historiâ, NS: historie. Both the Latin and the Dutch terms can mean either ‘history’ or ‘story.’ But Spinoza’s tone here seems slightly skeptical and ironic, particularly if we keep in mind what has been said about divine teleology in the Appendix to Part I (II/79) and what is said about allegorical interpretations of Scripture in the Theological-Political Treatise. Spinoza’s version of the fall points up certain problems in the story (Gen. 2:15-3:24), e.g., that God expected Adam to be restrained by the fear of death before he ate of the tree, and similarly, that Eve saw that the tree was good for food before she was supposed to know good and evil. Some commentators, however, seem to take this scholium at face value. Cf. Bidney, 76, 150-151.

36 What Gebhardt adds here from the NS represents only the translator’s attempt to deal with a difficult term through a double translation. Cf. Akkerman 2, 133.

37 The Kantian rigor of this passage seems difficult to reconcile with the spirit of other passages (e.g., II/268/10-18).

38 The situation is that of Clinia, in Terence’s Heautontimorumenos.

39 The OP read: “Unius praeterea viri facultas ingenii limitatior est,” and though the errata called for the deletion of ingenii, some modern editors (e.g., Land) have reinstated it. Elwes’ translation of that text is reasonable: “Again, an individual man’s resources of character are too limited.…” Gebhardt thinks Spinoza probably first wrote: “Unius viri ingenium limitatius est,” “the character of one man is too limited …,” and then replaced ingenium by facultas. In any case, it seems likely that by capacity here we should understand something more than financial resources.

40 More literally: “love of a courtesan.” But I agree with Matheron (2, 444) that meretricius is not meant to refer strictly to prostitution. See also the Glossary-Index entry: courtesan. Matheron’s discussion of Spinoza’s attitude toward sexuality is very helpful.

41 The OP read: “atque tum magis discordiâ, quam concordia fovetur. Vid. Coroll., Prop. 31, p. 3.” This is what I have translated, but the text is in doubt. Van Vloten and Land make discordia and concordia nominatives: “and then discord is encouraged more than harmony is.” The question, I take it, is whether Spinoza is saying that a purely sensual love which is a species of madness encourages, or is encouraged by, discord. In favor of the proposed emendation is the fact that throughout these sections of the appendix Spinoza seems concerned more with the causes of harmony and discord than with their effects. In favor of retaining the text is the fact that it makes nice sense of the reference to IIIP31C—or at least it does if the lines quoted there are taken in their original context. (Ovid’s poet-lover goes on to say that he loves nothing which never injures him and that his mistress exploits this weakness of his by pretending to deceive him, thereby reviving (refovere) his passion.) Strangely, Gebhardt defends the text by appealing to the NS (though Spinoza’s ms. would not have contained accent marks anyway) and then emends the reference from IIIP3IC to IIIP31CS on the ground that only in the scholium does Spinoza discuss the transition from love to hate. Cf. Akkerman 2, 92.

42 This passage (an allusion, incidentally, to Terence’s Eunuch, 263) is appealed to by the editors of the OP to explain Spinoza’s request that he not be identified as the author on the title page. Cf. also II/202/16-18. There is no serious attempt at concealment, of course, since the editors make it plain that B.D.S. was also the author of Descartes’ Principles of Philosophy and the Metaphysical Thoughts, which were published under Spinoza’s name. Cf. also IP19S.

43 Echoing 220/26, 31, 258/2, and ultimately, perhaps, Terence’s Heautontimorumenos, 962. Cf. Leopold 62.

1 “Ad alteram Ethices Partem.” Perhaps this should mean “to the second Part of the Ethics,” and Gueroult (1, 1:14n) constructs an interesting hypothesis about the first stage of the composition of the Ethics on the assumption that it does. On this theory, the present Parts I and II formed an Introduction, the present Parts III and IV were Part I and the present Part V was Part II. But this seems contrary to other indications of early stages of the text (cf. the note at II/136/18). It also seems unlikely that if Spinoza had written the present Parts I and II as an introduction he would have written them ordine geometrico. But the Correspondence makes it clear that early in the 1660s Spinoza was working on geometric versions of the material in Part I. Most translators (including those of the NS) have preferred to translate alteram in a way which would not suggest Gueroult’s hypothesis. The use of alter in TdIE 33-34 makes it clear that it is not always used to refer to one of two.

2 Cf. the Treatise on the Intellect, §§ 14-16.

3 Spinoza quotes from the Latin translation of Descartes’ Passions of the Soul which was first published in Amsterdam in 1650. From subsequent explanations (in §§ 28, 29) it seems clear that Descartes regards perceptiones (Fr. perceptions), sensus (sentiments) and commotiones animae (émotions de l’âme) as alternative designations of one and the same kind of thoughts, rather than different kinds of passion. The “NB” is Spinoza’s comment.

4 Cf. PA 44-50.

5 Cf. Descartes’ Letter to Elisabeth, 28 June 1643.

6 Cf. PA 31-32.

7 On this Stoic theme, see Wolfson 1, 2:263.

8 Reading “commotiones, seu affectus,” with Akkerman 2, 93.

9 I give the citation as it is given in the OP and NS. Gebhardt prints a conjecture of Schmidt’s (IIIP31C), though he rejects that conjecture in his notes. Cf. Akkerman 2, 83.

10 It is surprising to see “imagine” used in connection with knowledge which is necessarily adequate.

11 A reminiscence of Terence’s Eunuch, 56ff., as pointed out by Akkerman 2, 7-8.

12 As Wolfson (1, 2:266) notes, this list is incomplete, omitting any reference to P6.

13 Meijer (followed by Appuhn) emended this to read: “without relation to the body’s existence,” thereby bringing it closer to the formula of P40S. Gebhardt retains the text of the OP, because it is supported by the NS. But whether we emend or not, the text is troublesome, partly because it is difficult to see how Spinoza can, consistently with his general account of the relation of mind and body, conceive of the mind’s having any kind of existence apart from the body, partly because here he ascribes duration to the mind, whereas he will soon argue that it (or the part of it which exists without the body) is eternal. The whole section which this scholium introduces (Props. 21-40) is generally regarded as more than usually obscure. Among the older commentators, see Pollock, 260-288; Joachim 1, 292-306. Three interesting recent struggles with this topic are Harris 3, Kneale, and Donagan 3.

14 This sentence illustrates well the kind of difficulty characteristic of this part of the Ethics. On the face of it, Spinoza implies that we (who are here identified with parts of our minds; cf. IIP13C) not only will exist after the body, but did exist before it (though he denies the Platonic doctrine that we can come to recollect our preexistence). But in the same breath he asserts that we are eternal (cf. IIA1 and ID8) and that the eternal has no relation to time.

15 Gebhardt here adds a phrase from the NS which might very literally be translated: “or the more we have God’s intellect.” He takes this to be the key to understanding this “much debated and obscure proposition.” However, as Parkinson pointed out (179, n. 2), it is more natural to take the Dutch as an idiomatic paraphrase of ‘the more we understand God.’ Cf. also Akkerman 2, 100. Even if Gebhardt were right to conjecture a missing phrase in the Latin text, it is hard to see how it would help us understand this proposition.

16 Adopting a suggestion of Meijer, which Gebhardt rejects for no clear reason.

17 Wolfson (1, 2:311-317) considers a number of scriptural passages Spinoza may have had in mind, among them Psalms 16:9 and 73:24. See also the Glossary-Index on esteem.

18 Cf. P17 and P33S.

19 Cf. II/302/24.

20 This, of course, is not only the creed of the multitude, but a belief often encouraged by Scripture, as Spinoza well knows. These concluding portions of the Ethics can be read as a secular sermon against (a very natural reading of) the Sermon on the Mount. Cf. Matt. 5-7. For an interpretation more favorable to the Judaeo-Christian tradition, see Wolfson 1, 2:326-329.

Glossary-Index

I BEGAN to compile this index at a very early stage of my work, mainly as an aid to translation. Anxious to achieve as much consistency as I could in the treatment of technical terms, I wanted a record of what English term(s) I had used for a given Latin term. As I accumulated data about Spinoza’s usage, I found that I was apt to change my mind about English terms to use, and not, in the beginning, having Professor Giancotti Boscherini’s Lexicon available, I also needed a record of the occurrences of key Latin terms, so that I could go back to make the necessary changes. Looking ahead to the time when I would begin translating works that were written in Dutch, or that have survived only in a Dutch translation, I also decided to keep a record of the terms used by Spinoza’s contemporary translators in the Dutch versions of works for which we possess a Latin original.

This was a laborious task and it has contributed much to delaying the appearance of the translation. But gradually I became convinced that the information I had originally compiled for my own use should be shared with my readers. Desirable as it might be to establish a one-to-one correspondence between the terms of the text and the terms of the translation, it cannot be done consistently without loss. Often it is hard enough just to find a term or phrase that will do for the context at hand, not to mention all the contexts. And often it seems best to blur in the translation distinctions in the text that seem to be merely verbal. And then there is the problem that arises when a family of words in the language of the text—a noun, related verb, related adjective, etc.—cannot easily be rendered by a family of words in the language of the translation. These are among the eternal problems of the translator, and all of them, it seemed, might be lessened if I made the language of the text the basis for the index and explained systematically how it was correlated with the language of the translation.1 One bonus of this procedure is that it should make it easier for students to use aids like the term index in Wolfson’s commentary.

So the first section of the Glossary-Index lists key terms used in the translation and indicates the Latin or Dutch terms they represent. (If only a Latin term is given, that means that the third section contains no Dutch correlate of the English. Similarly, if only a Dutch term is given, the second section contains no Latin correlate of the English.) Here I take the opportunity to comment on the reasons for adopting some possibly contentious translations, note alternatives, and offer explanations of terms where this seems necessary and has not already been done in the notes to the text. Hence the title “Glossary-Index.” But I must stress again that it is not my intention to produce a translation and commentary. No doubt many terms that get no explanation deserve some. No doubt many that get some, deserve more. The idea is simply to centralize and organize information which otherwise might appear in notes scattered throughout the text, but which would be no more appropriate in one place than another. In many cases the reader will have to work out his own theory of Spinoza’s meaning from the data supplied in the Index. The terms most apt to attract a Glossary entry are those which have caused me the most trouble as a translator, not necessarily those which would cause a commentator the most trouble. Much of the information one might want to give here is readily accessible in Wolfson’s commentary, and rather than multiply references to that work, I will limit myself to this general recommendation: Wolfson’s work contains a great deal of fascinating lore about the medieval and classical ancestry of Spinoza’s language, but it should be used critically and with caution.

The second section indexes key terms used in Spinoza’s Latin works, indicates the terms used for them by Spinoza’s contemporary Dutch translators (recording patterns of usage where I have noticed them) and also indicates the English terms used in this translation. Terms here are grouped in families (generally in the order: noun; verb; adjective; adverb). There is much to be said for providing separate entries for related words, as Professor Giancotti Boscherini does in her Lexicon. But that work was compiled for the specialist, who is presumed to have a good command of Latin and Dutch. Since I compiled my index to meet somewhat different needs, I have constructed it on different principles. References are to the volume and page numbers of the Gebhardt edition, which are given in the margins of this edition.

The third section indexes key terms used in those works which either were written in Dutch or have survived only in Dutch,2 and generally relates these Dutch terms to the Latin terms they are presumed to translate. Usually this relation has been established by examining the contemporary Dutch translations of Spinoza’s Latin works. In the case of letters written in Dutch and translated into Latin for the Opera posthuma, the Latin terms are those used in the OP. Sometimes the correlation is a matter of judgment or conjecture. Where serious doubt exists about the correlation, a question mark or a comment in the first section indicates that fact. If the Dutch term has been translated by an English term used for its Latin analogue, then no English term will appear, and the reader who is working from Dutch to English must consult the second section to see what the possible English terms are. Where the Dutch term has no Latin analogue in section II or where it is translated differently than its Latin analogue, then the English will be given in section III.

The indexes of the second and third sections do not profess to offer an exhaustive list of occurrences of the given term. For example, if a term has both a technical and a nontechnical use, I may index only one or two occurrences of the nontechnical use in order to illustrate it, but will leave many occurrences unnoted. And even with technical uses, quite apart from the inevitable inadvertencies, I have often deliberately been quite selective in the occurrences noted, omitting some which I judged of little importance for fixing the meaning of the term or displaying its use. No doubt this introduces an element of subjectivity, but those who wish a more objective approach and a more exhaustive coverage have the Lexicon Spinozanum available to them. What I offer here is, for the serious student, no substitute for the Lexicon. But it may in some cases usefully supplement that work even for the serious student, since I have sometimes indexed terms or noted occurrences that do not appear in the Lexicon.

Contexts where a more or less official definition of a term is given, or where the use of that term attracts comment in a note (either by Spinoza or by myself), are italicized numbers in the indexes. Where a term is defined in more than one place I have italicized each entry only where the definitions seemed, on the face of it, to differ.

Many of the terms Spinoza uses in Parts III and IV of the Ethics were also used by the Latin translator of Descartes’ Passions of the Soul (PA). The correlations with Descartes’ French terms are also given in the Latin-Dutch-English section, since they often help to establish the connotations of the terms. These terms are inevitably the most difficult to translate,3 and are the ones most likely to attract comment in the Glossary.

The irregularity of seventeenth-century Dutch spelling presents a problem. Often the same word will be spelled differently in different passages—and sometimes even in the same passage. For the purposes of the Index, I have thought it best to settle on one spelling, and to give preference to the way the word would be spelled in modern Dutch.

Again, some Latin terms (idea, a priori, ideatum, attributum, proprium) are not always translated into Dutch in the Short Treatise; sometimes the Latin itself is simply carried over. For simplicity these terms will be treated in the Index as if they had been translated into Dutch.

This section concludes with an index of proper names and Biblical references.

English–Latin–Dutch

ABILITY, NATIVE

ingenium

A PRIORI/A POSTERIORI

van voren/van achteren

I have left this pair of terms untranslated. It should be noted that in the seventeenth century the medieval usage deriving from Ockham was still current. An a priori proof proceeds from cause to effect; an a posteriori one from effect to cause. Cf. Alquié 1, II, 582n. The equivalent terms in earlier writers like Aquinas are propter quid and quia. Cf. Summa theologiae Ia, 2, 2.

ABSOLUTE

absolutus

Generally I have simply anglicized the Latin. But the sense seems usually to be unconditional or without exception. Cf. Gueroult 1, 2:309.

ABSTRACT

abstractus

aftreksel, abstractlijk

ACCIDENT

accidens

toeval

In early correspondence (IV/13) Spinoza was content to define the term accidens in the way he would later define the term modus. There are traces of this usage in his exposition of Descartes, but it is rejected firmly in the Metaphysical Thoughts (I/236, 237). See Gueroult 1, 1:65, n. 193.

Generally per accidens occurs only as part of the phrase causa per accidens. See cause through itself.

Generally toeval represents accidens, but in KV App. I it apparently represents modificatio.

ACT

actus, opus

doening, daad, werk

I mark the distinction between actus and actio by using act for the former and action for the latter. In scholastic Latin actus was regularly used in contrast with potentia to render Aristotle’s energeia and dunamis (Aquinas 1, IV, 131). So an affect like madness which is, by definition, a passion, may still be an actus insofar as it involves the actualization of a capacity (cf. II/191). Nevertheless, actus also seems to be used in a nontechnical sense in which it denotes whatever anyone does (cf. II/197).

ACTED ON, TO BE

See passio

ACTION

actio, opus, facinus

doening, daad, werking, werk, aktie

See act. In its technical sense an actio is an affect of which we can be the adequate cause (E III D 3), but it seems to be used sometimes in a nontechnical sense even after the formal definition has been introduced. Cf. II/117, 142, 254. In their nontechnical senses actus and actio seem equivalent.

ACTIVITY

operatio

ACTUALITY

actualitas

dadelijkheid

ADEQUATE

See adaequare

ADMIRATION

admiratio

ADVANTAGE

utilitas

nut, voordeel

AFFECT

affectus

Elwes and Shirley use emotion for affectus; White simply anglicizes it, as I have, and as many commentators do. Emotion has the disadvantage of suggesting a passive state, whereas an affectus may well be active (II/139) in spite of the apparent equation with pathema animi at II/203 (cf. Rice 1, 105). It also has the disadvantages of suggesting an exclusively psychological state (whereas an affectus is a state both of the mind and of the body) and of not being broad enough. (It seems unnatural to call desire an emotion.)

The disadvantage of affect is that it has a technical meaning in psychology (the felt component of a stimulus or motive to action) which does not fit the Spinozistic context. But this usage is specialized enough that it should not confuse most readers.

On balance I prefer to preserve the etymological connection with affectio and afficere.

Wolfson says that Spinoza sometimes uses affectus in the sense of affectio (Wolfson 1, II, 194) but the text he cites (II/104/21) is probably corrupt.

See also emotion; passion.

AFFECTION

affectio

aandoening, toevoeging?

In classical and medieval Latin both affectio and affectus were used indifferently for emotion or passion (Wolfson 1, 2:193). Descartes, however, uses affectio as a synonym for quality or mode (Gilson 1, 9) and Spinoza generally follows him in this. The definition at II/190 is more characteristic than that at I/240. Wolfson observes that Spinoza sometimes uses affectio in the sense of affectus and Gebhardt (II/390) goes so far as to say that he uses them as synonyms, citing II/104/21, 25 and II/183/32. Perhaps. But since affectus is usually used for a specific kind of affectio, the more general term might well be used correctly in those contexts without the terms being synonymous. So, for example, the occurrence of aandoening at I/48/28 might equally well be rendered by affect. See also Hubbeling 1, 59.

AFFIRMATION

affirmatio

bevestiging

AGREEMENT

convenientia

AIDS

auxilia

ALL, THE

de Al

AMBITION

ambitio

ANALYSIS

analysis

ANGEL

angelus

ANGER

ira

gramschap, toorn

ANIMAL, LOWER

brutum

ANIMATE

animatus

This is the adjectival form of anima so besouled (Joachim) is also to be considered, but no translation can resolve the question of what Spinoza means by using this term in the famous passage in which he says that all individuals are, in varying degrees, animata (II/96/27-28). The commentators (Wolfson 1, 2:56-64; Gueroult 1, 2:143-144) are helpful. In view of the conceptual connection between life and soul (see mind, cf. also Summa theologiae Ia, 75, 1) and Spinoza’s definition of life (at I/260), it seems likely that Spinoza would attribute life to all things. Cf. II/187/14 But it seems a reasonable inference from E V P39S that he would not attribute consciousness to all things.

Apparently animatus occurs only in the famous passage.

ANTIPATHY

antipathia

ANXIETY

benauwdheid

APPEARANCE

species

vertoning

APPEARANCE, EXTERNAL

forma

APPETITE

appetitus

lust

ART

ars

TO ASCRIBE FICTITIOUSLY

affingere

ASSENT

assensus

See toestemmen

ASSOCIATION

consuetudo

ATOM

atomus

ATTRIBUTE, ‘ATTRIBUTE’

attributum

eigenschap (KV)

The central definition of this key term (at II/45) is very ambiguous. For contrasting interpretations see Wolfson 1, ch. 5, and Haserot 1. See also Gueroult 1, t. I, app. 3 & 4, Wolf 1, and Curley 3, 4-18.

Eigenschap is the term normally used in the KV where the context makes it clear that it must be translated attribute. But eigenschap is also used for properties which are generally (but in Spinoza’s view, incorrectly) regarded as attributes. I mark these nonstandard uses of eigenschap by putting attribute in single quotes. Cf. I/27/11-29 and 44/22-35.

See also mode.

AUTOMATON

automaton

AVERSION

aversio

afkeer

The Scholastics opposed aversio to cupiditas, as flight from evil to pursuit of good. There is an echo of this usage in Hobbes (Leviathan, I, 6), but Descartes rejects it on the ground that there is no pursuit of good which is not at the same time an avoidance of evil (PA II, 87). Hence, desire is a passion that has no contrary. Spinoza follows Descartes in regarding desire as a passion that has no contrary, but makes a place for aversion as a species of sadness. Cf. Bidney 1, 182-189.

The contrast between afkeer and haat in the KV is different from that between aversio and odium in E.

TO AVOID

See aversio

AWARE

See sensatio

See gevoel, gewaarwording

AXIOM

axioma

An axiom is a proposition suitable for use as a first principle in demonstrations. For this, truth is required, but not necessarily self-evidence (pace Joachim 2, 202n) or indemonstrability. In Letter 3 Oldenburg asks whether Spinoza regards the axioms he has sent as indemonstrable principles, known by the light of nature and requiring no proof. Spinoza treats this (in Letter 4) as an inquiry as to whether his axioms are common notions. He grants that they are not (IV/13/28), but resists the suggestion that they are not true and endeavors to derive them from his definitions of substance and accident. (See also II/139/25 where Spinoza uses axioma for a postulate derivable from previous postulates.)

On this reading Meyer’s statements about definitions, axioms and postulates (I/127) must be regarded as expressing his own view, not Spinoza’s. Evidence for this is Meyer’s neglect of the distinction between real and nominal definitions.

BAD

malus, see also mali

kwaad

While I generally prefer to translate malus by evil (q.v.), sometimes I use bad.

BEAST

bestia, see also brutum

beest

BEAUTY

pulchritudo

TO BE

esse

The phrase esse in se is central to Spinoza’s philosophy, since it is used in the definition of his most important metaphysical concept, substantia. I would distinguish between a metaphysical use of the phrase (illustrated in II/45-47 and helpfully glossed at II/34), in which it connotes independent existence (cf. Curley 3, 14-18, and Gueroult 1, I, 58, 61-63), and an epistemological use (illustrated at II/125), in which it connotes the reality with which true ideas are supposed to conform.

BEGET

procreare

BEING

esse, entitas, ens

zijin, wezen (see wezenheid)

BELIEF; TRUE BELIEF; ‘BELIEF’

fides?, vera fides?, opinio?

geloof, ware geloof, geloof

Generally the second of KV’s three kinds of knowledge is designated indifferently as geloof (probably = fides) or ware geloof (probably = vera fides). But the example (at I/55/3) and definitions (at I/55/23 and I/59/23) Spinoza gives always suggest a belief that is not merely true, but based on demonstrative reasoning. Wolf notes precedents for this in Crescas and Maimonides. Particularly interesting is a passage from the Guide for the Perplexed, I, 50. At I/77/4 we will have a transition to the terminology of the Ethics when ware geloof is equated with reden.

Sometimes geloof is used where we would expect waan. I mark what appear to be nonstandard uses of geloof by putting belief in single quotes. See the note at I/54/10.

BLAME

vituperium

laster, beschuldigen

BLESSEDNESS

beatitudo

zaligheid, gelukzaligheid

Sometimes beatitudo and its cognates clearly have the religious connotations suggested by blessedness, but it can equally mean happiness. If Balling was the translator of the KV, as some have suggested, then it seems likely that gelukzaligheid represents beatitudo rather than felicitas.

BODY

corpus

lichaam

BONDAGE

servitus

On the theological background of servitus see Wolfson 1, II, 184. It is unfortunate that the same term occurs both with negative connotations (when it is rendered by bondage) and with positive connotations (when it is rendered by service). Cf. II/136/6.

BRAIN

cerebrum

BRAVERY

dapperheid

BULK

moles, see also magnitudo

Wolf uses mass, but at this stage the term does not have the theoretical implications it acquired in Newtonian physics. Boyle’s English uses bulk, which I take to be equivalent to size.

BURDENSOME

molestus

BURIDAN’S ASS

asinus Buridani

CALX

calx

CAPABLE

aptus

CAUSE

causa

oorzaak

It should be understood that Spinoza’s tendency to identify causa and ratio (e.g., in E I P11D2) does not sound so strange in Latin as it does in English, since reason is a standard dictionary entry for causa and causa does occur in Spinoza (e.g., at II/74/30) in a nontechnical use most naturally rendered by reason.

Spinoza distinguishes many different kinds of cause. See Gueroult 1, I, 60n, 243-257, and 330 for a good account of the relation between Spinoza’s terminology and that of the Scholastics.

CAUSE, ACCIDENTAL

causa per accidens

oorzaak door een toeval

See cause through itself.

CAUSE OF ITSELF

causa sui

oorzaak van zich

Wolf 2, 172, contends that Spinoza understands this expression in a purely negative way, as implying that the thing which is causa sui “really has no cause at all.” But his evidence seems insufficient. Wolfson 1, 1:127, comes close to the same view (on equally inadequate evidence), but later avoids the trap (1:129). Spinoza’s adherence to the principle of sufficient reason, like Descartes’, is exceptionless. Cf. E IP11D2 with AT VII, 164-165. Also relevant are AT VII, 109-111, and the note at TdIE § 97.

CAUSE, REMOTE

causa remota

Gueroult (1, I, 225n) cites a passage in Heereboord in which a remote cause is defined as one which produces its effect by the mediation of causes of the same kind. This is thought to be a reason for saying that a remote cause is not united in any way with its effect.

CAUSE THROUGH ITSELF

causa per se

oorzaak door zich zelfs

Spinoza regularly contrasts causa per se and causa per accidens. This traditional contrast goes back to Aristotle (Physics II, 5) and has been variously rendered into English (e.g., essential/incidental cause, direct/indirect cause). Wolfson 1, 1:307 glosses it with references to Burgersdijk and Heereboord, where it appears that an essential cause is one that produces something like itself (e.g., an animal of the same kind). But Gueroult 1, 1:253, n. 36 is sharply critical of Wolfson’s interpretation.

Whether or not Wolfson is correct about the passage there under dispute (E I P16C2), his account will not fit most of Spinoza’s uses of the contrast. Aquinas’ editors (Aquinas 1, XIV, 197) gloss two senses of causa per accidens: 1) an agent in respect to an effect that does not correspond to its power of purpose, or with respect to a side effect of its direct action; 2) an agent whose proper effect opens the way to another effect’s happening, especially as removing an obstacle to that effect. Examples occur at Summa theologiae 1a, 49, 1 and 1a, 104, 4 respectively.

Spinoza’s normal use of causa per accidens is in psychological contexts, where it seems most closely related to the first of these senses. An accidental cause is one that has its effect not because of its own nature but because of its coincidental association with something whose nature it is to produce that effect.

CENSURE

carpere

CERTAINTY

certitudo

The Latin certus can mean both definite and sure (or beyond doubt) and the English certain conveniently has the same ambiguity, so I have felt no need to use two words for one. Pace Caillois (Pléiade, 1420), Spinoza does sometimes use certus to mean sure, as a survey of the index entries will show. But in conjunction with determinatus, the sense does always seem to be definite. See, however, Gueroult 1, 1:75-76.

Spinoza’s use of certus at II/11/29 is puzzling, but presumably reflects a tendency to vacillate between a purely psychological conception of certainty ( = absence of doubt) and a normative conception ( = absence of legitimate doubt). Both senses seem to be at work in TdIE § 26.

CHANCE

casus

geval

CHANGE

mutatio, variatio

verandering

CHANGEABLE THINGS, SINGULAR

mutabiles, res singulares

If the fixed and eternal things are, as I would guess, the attributes and infinite modes, then presumably the singular changeable things are the finite modes.

CHARACTER

hoedanigheid

CHARITY

aalmoes

CHASTITY

castitas

CHEERFULNESS

hilaritas

vrolijkheid

CHEMISTRY

Chymia

CHILD

puer, liberi

CHIMAERA

chimaera

CHOICE

electio

CHRISTIANS

christiani

christenen

CHRIST

Christus

CIRCUMSTANCE

circumstantia

omstandigheid

CITIZEN

civis

CIVIL

civilis

CLASS

classis

CLEAR AND DISTINCT

clarus et distinctus

klaar en onderscheiden(lijk)

CLEVERNESS

ingenium

COLD

frigus

COLOR

color

COMMAND

imperium, nutus

gebod

COMMEND

commendare

COMMON

communis, see also: vulgus

COMMON GOOD

gemeen best

COMMON NOTION

notio communis

This term sometimes occurs merely as a synonym for axioma (cf. Wolfson 1, 2:118-199). But it seems to connote, more strongly than axiom does, a proposition known to all. See axiom. Note that in Descartes (Principles I, 50) a common notion is a truth which can be known very clearly and distinctly, but which may not be, because of prejudice.

A notion may also be called common because it involves properties common to all things (cf. E II P38C and TTP VII [III/102]).

COMMUNITY

civitas

gemeenschap

In most of its occurrences in the KV, gemeenschap seems adequately rendered by something in common. But not, I think, in II, xxiv. Wolf has fellowship.

COMPARISON

comparatio

COMPASSION

misericordia

barmhartigheid

See pity.

COMPELLED

coactus

COMPOSITION

compositio

CONCEPT

conceptus

begrip, bevatting, concept

CONCURRENCE, GOD’S

concursus Dei

medewerking, Gods; samenlopen

CONDUCT

mos

CONFIDENCE

securitas

verzekerheid

CONFIRM, ‘CONFIRM’

confirmare, comprobare

The two Latin terms occur frequently in the Boyle-Spinoza correspondence. Confirmare seems invariably to mean what its English cognate generally means in philosophical English: to make (more) probable. But confirm, in ordinary English, can also mean to make certain. When translated by comprobare (as it sometimes is by the Latin translator of Boyle’s Essays) it leans heavily toward the stronger interpretation. Some of the disagreement between Boyle and Spinoza over the value of experiments may stem from a misunderstanding of comprobare (e.g., at IV/29/12ff.).

Wolf dealt with the ambiguity of comprobare by vacillating between confirm and prove. I have tried to give readers a better feel for the Latin by using confirm consistently for comprobare and putting it in scare-quotes when I think it means prove.

This policy has the disadvantage that readers encountering confirm may wonder which Latin term it represents. But a glance at the Index should resolve these doubts, since confirmare and comprobare never seem both to occur on the same page.

CONFUSION

confusio

verwarring

CONNECTION

concatenatio, connexio, nexus

CONSCIENCE

conscientie, medegeweten

CONSCIOUSNESS

conscientia

bewust(heid), medegeweten

CONSENT

consensus

CONSTANCY

constantia

bestandigheid

CONSTERNATION

consternatio

vervaardheid

The equation of E’s consternatio with KV’s vervaardheid is purely conjectural.

CONSTITUTION

constitutio

CONTEMPT

dedignatio

Elwes, White: scorn. Etymology favors disdain, but I have used that for contemptus. In Descartes dedignatio is a species of contemptus which occurs when we consider the object of our disesteem as a free cause. This would suggest contempt, which seems to have the proper moralistic flavor. At II/192 Spinoza declines to define dedignatio, but at II/181 he says that it arises from our disdain for foolishness. See also disdain and scorn.

CONTINGENCY

contingentia

gebeurlijkheid

CONTINUOUS

continuus

CONTRADICTION

implicantia, conradictio

Implicantia and contradictio are synonymous as Ep. XII illustrates (pace Wolf). Implicare is a trap, since it is equivalent to implicare contradictionem (cf. TdIE 19-20).

CONTRARY

contrarius

CONVENIENCES

commoda

CONVERSION

bekering

CORPOREAL

See corpus

CORRUPTION

corruptio

See vergaan

COURTESAN

meretrix

The meretrix is a standard figure in Latin comedies, where she is often portrayed quite sympathetically. Given Spinoza’s familiarity with the works of Terence, we should bear these associations in mind in those passages in which Spinoza discusses sexual relationships.

COURTESY

modestia

COWARDICE

pusillanimitas

flauwmoedigheid

CREATION

creatio, procreare

schepping, herschepping

CRUELTY

crudelitas

CRYSTAL

crystallus

CUSTOM

consuetudo, mos

DARING

audacitas

DEATH

mors

dood

DECEPTION

deceptio, dolus malus

DECISION, DECREE

decretum

besluit

DEDUCE

deducere

DEED

factum

Sometimes the temptation to render factum by fact (with the suggestion of a correspondence theory of truth) is strong (I/246). But though I believe Spinoza usually thinks of truth in terms of correspondence, to introduce that technical term would be anachronistic. So far as I have been able to discover that usage has no classical or medieval precedent. The usual classical meaning always seems appropriate in Spinoza. Hobbes’ use of fact is interesting. The etymological connection with the past participle of facere (to do) is dominant, but the seeds of the modern usage are clearly discernible. Cf. Leviathan, chapters 5, 9, 26, and 27.

DEFECT

vitium

DEFINITION

definitio

bepaling, beschrijving, definitie

Dunin-Borkowski 1, 4:487, alleged that Spinoza’s theory of definition derived from the Port Royal Logic, but as Gueroult (1, 1:25n) observes, this seems excessive. For a comparison and contrast of the two theories, see Curley 3, 108-113.

It is crucial in understanding the role of definition in Spinoza’s axiomatic method to determine whether he regarded his definitions as real or nominal. Each alternative can be supported and Gueroult (1, I, 21) contends that they are both real and nominal, a conclusion I find difficult to understand. But perhaps Bennett’s useful discussion (in Bennett 2, 17-18) articulates in a clearer way the intuition Gueroult sought to express. It is important to be aware of Spinoza’s discussions of definition in the KV, TdIE, and Letters 9 and 10. Gueroult’s emphasis on the influence of Hobbes and the constructive character of Spinoza’s definitions seems right.

DEGREE

gradus

DELIBERATION

deliberatio

DEMONSTRATION

demonstratio

See Descartes’ letter to Morin, 13

July 1638 (A II, 72).

DENOMINATION

denominatio

afnoeming, benaming

DEPENDENCE

dependentia

dependentie, see also afhangen

DESCRIPTION

descriptio

DESIRE

cupiditas

begeerte

DESPAIR

desperatio

wanhoop

DESPONDENCY

abjectio

Elwes and Shirley use self-abasement, which has the advantage of preserving the connection with Descartes’ bassesse (= humilité vicieuse, PA 159), but wrongly suggests that the person himself is the cause of his condition. The emphasis on sadness favors White’s choice of despondency, but fails to capture the element of misjudgment of one’s capacities. No term seems entirely satisfactory.

DESTRUCTION

destructio

verderf, vernietiging

DETERMINATION

determinatio

bepaling

Gueroult (1, 1:338n) observes that determinari can have two distinct senses. In an expression like determinatum ad existendum it means to be caused to exist; in determinata existentia it can mean finite or limited existence. And since whatever is finite is also caused to exist by something else, both senses may come into play in a context like E IP28. In other contexts, the sense of determinatus may be assignable (cf. Gueroult 1, 1:75).

Determinatio is also a technical term in Cartesian physics. In such contexts it will sometimes occur in conjunction with a phrase like versus certam aliquam partem (= in some definite direction). Whether that phrase occurs explicitly or not, I think it should always be understood. I take determinatio in these contexts to be equivalent to tendency. For different views, see Sabra 1, 116-121, and Westfall 1, 91.

DEVIL

diabolus, princeps scelestorum spirituum

duivel

DEVOTION

devotio

DICTATE (OF REASON, INTELLECT)

dictamen (rationis, intellectus)

DIFFERENCE

diversitas, differentia

verscheidenheid

Donagan (1, 164) thinks diversus is used technically, as a synomyn for realiter distinctus, but some of the contexts disconfirm this (e.g., II/178/17, II/132/24, II/99/13, II/79/9) and the NS renders distinctus and diversus by different terms. I take it that diversus is a more general term, appropriate when the things differentiated are really distinct (as in E IP10S), but also where they are not.

DIRECTION

determinatio, pars

See determination

DISCORD

discordia

DISDAIN

contemptus

versmading, verachting

Elwes, White, Shirley: contempt. Etymology makes contempt a natural choice (analogously, disdain for dedignatio). But contempt seems to have changed its meaning since the seventeenth century. (Cf. Hobbes’ Leviathan vi: “Those things which we neither desire nor hate we said to contemn.”) Spinoza’s definition reflects Cartesian usage. When first introduced at PA54, contemptus represents mépris, is opposed to estime, and is defined as an inclination to consider the baseness or smallness of what is mépris. So something closer to disesteem seems preferable. See also contempt and scorn.

Versmading represents contemptus in the NS and possibly in the KV also. The definitions seem sufficiently close to let one term translate both. But in the KV versmading is opposed to aching, whereas in E, contemptus is opposed to admiratio.

Verachting is sometimes used in the NS for despectus. But in the KV it seems to be used interchangeably with versmading. I assume that there it too represents contemptus.

Wolf treats versmading and verachting as interchangeable in the KV, but thinks they represent despectus rather than contemptus. Possibly they do, or possibly the variation corresponds to a merely verbal distinction in the Latin. The Latin translation of Descartes’ PA which Spinoza used would have encouraged some confusion about the relation of these terms. The translator uses contemptus for mépris in 2:54, and despectus for dédain, which is a species of mépris, in 2:55. But later (at 3:149) he uses despectus for mépris.

DISGRACE

probrum

DISHONORABLE

turpis

Elwes, White, Shirley: base. I have preferred dishonorable, as less ambiguous.

DISOBEDIENT

ongehoorsam

DISGUST

fastidium

DISPOSITION, NATURAL

ingenium

DISTINCTION

distinctio

onderscheid

DISTINCTION, REAL

distinctio realis

onderscheid, dadelijk

The definitions Spinoza gives of a real distinction seem to follow the Cartesian usage of the Second Replies (AT VII, 162) and the Principles (AT VIII-1, 28), but it is difficult to see how Spinoza could allow that any two things might be really distinct in the Cartesian sense. For Descartes a real distinction can occur only between two or more substances, but for Spinoza there is really only one substance. Of course, each of the attributes satisfies the definition of substance, and each is really distinct from every other, but there is no possibility of any attribute existing without the others.

DISTURBANCE OF THE MIND

commotio animi

See emotion

DIVERSITY

diversitas

See difference

DIVINITY

See divinus

goddelijkheid

DIVISION

divisio

See deel

DO

See actio

DOCTRINE

doctrina, dogma

DOMINION

imperium

DOUBT

dubitatio

twijfel

DREAD

horror

DREAM

somnium

droom

DRUNKENNESS

ebrietas

DURATION

duratio

during

DUTY

officium, pietas

plicht

EASILY

facile

EDUCATION

educatio

EFFECT

effectus

gewrocht, uitwerking, uitwerksel

ELASTICITY

elastica proprietas

ELEMENT

elementum

EMENDATION

emendatio

EMINENTLY

eminenter

uitstekendlijk

EMPIRICISTS

empirici

EMPTINESS

vanitas

EMOTION

commotio animi

ontroering, ontsteltenis, beweging van de ziel, des gemoeds

Sometimes commotio animi seems to be used in a very neutral and general way, as equivalent to affectus. Cf. E VP2 and Descartes’ PA 27 (quoted at II/279) where it translates the French émotion. In those contexts I have used emotion. But other contexts (e.g., II/7/22) seem to require something less general and more negative. There I have used disturbance of the mind. Perhaps the more negative term would have been preferable in KV II, vi.

EMULATION

aemulatio

volgijver

END

finis

eind

ENJOYMENT

fruitio

genieting

See also joy. Cf. Pléiade, 1391.

ENVY

invidia

nijd, wangunst?

ENMITY

inimicitia

EQUAL

See aequitas

gelijk

ERROR

error

doling (usu.), waan (occ.?)

ESSENCE

essentia

wezenheid

The conception of essence which Spinoza criticizes in E IIP10CS is exemplified in Descartes’ Principles I, 53.

Joachim (2, 212n) notes Spinoza’s apparent identification (through sive) of essentia and definitio at II/34/19, but argues that this does not exclude all difference between the alternatives, and that Spinoza “sharply distinguishes” essentia and definitio at II/34/29. Nevertheless, it seems fair to identify essence with what a good definition states.

ESTEEM, LOVE OF ESTEEM

gloria

achting, eer

Few terms in Spinoza’s moral psychology are as troublesome as gloria. Classically it can mean fame, renown, praise, honor, etc., or the desire for and tendency to claim fame, renown, etc. Spinoza defines it as a species of joy felt when we believe ourselves to be praised, but seems also to use it for the state of being praised or well thought of. In the latter contexts I have used esteem, reserving praise for laus. In the former, love of esteem. (Elwes uses honor, which seems possible in the nonpsychological contexts, though I have rejected it as too ambiguous. White has self-exaltation, which is plausible in the psychological contexts, but has the disadvantage of suggesting that the person’s satisfaction with himself results from self-praise, not praise by others.)

One difficulty is to find a suitable verb for gloriari. The classical meanings (brag, pride o.s., etc.), generally seem inappropriate. In most contexts I have settled on to exult at being esteemed. If it were not so cumbersome I would use exultation at being esteemed for gloria in psychological contexts.

Although the miles gloriosus (braggart soldier) is a stock figure of fun in classical comedy, a concern for reputation is also an important element in the conception of the hero in tragedies like those of Corneille. Neither Descartes nor Spinoza gives it an entirely negative evaluation. Cf. Alquié 1, 3:1097, with helpful annotation, and II/253. See also honor.

I have also used esteem for achting in KV. Although achting represents existimatio in the NS version of E, and perhaps represents existimatio in KV also, I assume that achting in KV expresses a different concept than existimatio in E, the concept expressed by gloria in its nonpsychological sense. Existimatio in E implies a misjudgment of the things’s worth. Achting in KV (like existimatio in PA III, 149) does not. Hence I use esteem for achting, overestimation for existimatio, and love of esteem for eer (gloria in its psychological sense).

ETERNITY

aeternitas, see also aeternitatis, aeterno, aeternum

eeuwigheid

The major question here is whether to translate species in the famous phrase sub specie aeternitatis by species (= kind, sort) or by aspect (= point of view). Gueroult 1, 2:609-615, sets out the issues very nicely. He favors aspect. The main weakness in his argument, it seems to me, is the assumption that there is only one species of necessity or eternity. Cf. II/74/5ff. I note that Spinoza’s contemporary Dutch translators consistently render species by gedaante in this phrase.

ETERNAL THINGS, FIXED AND

aeternae, res (fixae et)

These are generally identified either with the infinite modes, or with the attributes and infinite modes. Cf. Pollock 1, 140-144; Curley 3, 66-73; Wolfson 1, 1:251; Delbos 1, 103; Harris 1, passim.

ETHICS

ethica

zedenkunst

EVIL

malus, pravus

kwaad

Malus can be translated by either bad or evil. At one stage I preferred bad wherever possible, since evil has connotations which seem inappropriate to Spinoza’s philosophy. I now think it best to retain the term and to regard Spinoza’s definition as deflationary. Like Nietzsche’s, Spinoza’s philosophy is, in some sense, beyond good and evil.

TO BE EXCESSIVE

excessum habere

EXISTENCE

existentia, esse

wezenlijkheid, bestaan, existeren

EXPERIENCE

experientia

bevinding, ervarenheid, ervaring, ondervinding

EXPERIENCE, RANDOM

experientia vaga

Elwes: mere experience; White: vague experience. I once proposed vagrant experience (Curley 2), which has the advantage of preserving etymological connections and the connotations of the Baconian passage from which the phrase originates (Novum Organum I, 100). But random also conveys the appropriate disorderliness and requires less explanation. The suggestion goes back at least to Joachim (2, 135) but was particularly urged on me by Bennett.

EXPERIMENT

explicatio

EXPRESS

exprimere

uitdrukken

EXTENSION

extensio

uitgebreidheid

FACULTY

facultas

FAIRNESS

aequitas

FALL

lapsus

afvall

FALSITY

falsitas

valsheid

FANTASY

phantasia

FATE

fatum

FAULT

See carpere

FAVOR

favor

gunst

FEAR

metus (usu.), timor (occ.)

vrees

Elwes: fear; White: fear, apprehension. Descartes (PA 36) had made a distinction between crainte (Kemp Smith: anxious apprehension), which anyone would feel at the sight of something strange and frightful, and peur (fear?), which one might subsequently feel, depending on the body’s temperament or the soul’s strength (though one might also feel hardiesse, boldness). Unfortunately, Descartes’ translator blurred this distinction by using timor for crainte and metus for both crainte and peur (see Voss 1). Spinoza’s metus apparently corresponds to Descartes’ crainte and his timor to Descartes’ peur. Generally I use fear for the more fundamental emotion and timidity for the disposition to respond to fear in a particular way. See II/170. But it is not clear that Spinoza maintains a sharp distinction here.

FEELING

affectus, sensatio

gevoel

FEIGN

See fictio

dichten

See fiction

FELLOWMAN, FELLOW

proximus

evenmens, evennaast, naast

FICTION

fictio, commentum

versiering

I use to feign and fiction for fingere and fictio, but it is important to realize that the English terms have connotations which may be misleading. A feigned or fictitious idea is not necessarily a false one, as the references in the TdIE illustrate. To hypothesize and hypothesis are closer to the meaning and might have been used, if hypothesis were not wanted to represent hypothesis.

It is unclear what distinction Spinoza intends to make between fingere and putare in contexts like II/21/11. I have used allow there for putare, but find it difficult to see a difference between ‘allowing’ and what Spinoza usually calls fiction.

I am skeptical of de Deugd’s contention (1, 92-93) that fictio and related terms have significant aesthetic connotations.

FIGURE

figura

gedaante

FINITE

finitus

eindig, eindelijk

FIRE

ignis

FIXED

fixus

FLATTERY

adulatio

FLUID

liquor

FLUIDITY

fluiditas

FOLLY

stultitia

FORBEARANCE

verdraagzaamheid

FORCE

vis

Where it has seemed possible I have rendered vis by force, but where this would sound very unnatural I have used power, which see.

On the ambiguity of force (vis) in Cartesian physics see Westfall 1, ch. 2, and Appendix B.

FORGETFULNESS

vergetenheid

FORM

forma

vorm, gestalt, gedaante

Sometimes forma and the Dutch terms which translate it seem equivalent to nature or essence (e.g., at II/208/26). Cf. Gueroult 1, 2:306n. 6. Sometimes they seem equivalent to quality (e.g., at I/79/27). Sometimes external appearance is clearly indicated.

FORMAL CHARACTER, FORMALLY

formalitas, formaliter

Formaliter is usually opposed to objective (q.v.), rarely to materialiter (cf. IV/49/28).

FORTUNE

fortuna

FOUNDATION

fundamentum

FREEDOM

libertas, see also causa libera, homo liber

vrijheid

FRIENDSHIP

amicitia

vriendschap

FRIGHT

schrik

FUNCTION

functio, officium

FUTURE

futurus

toekomend

GENERATION

generatio

voortbrenging, genereren

GENEROSITY

largitio

GENIUS

ingenium

GENUS

genus

geslacht

GEOMETRIC STYLE

mos geometricus

See Meyer’s preface to Descartes “Principles,” my preface to the Ethics, and the glossary entries on axiom, definition, and known through itself.

GLADNESS

gaudium

Elwes, joy. In Principles IV, 190, Descartes had used gaudium for that species of purely intellectual joy, entirely independent of the state of the body, which the Stoics had allowed that their wise man might experience. This distinction is not observed in the PA where laetitia is the usual term for joie, even when it is intellectual (PA 147). Gaudium is also used there for joie, without any apparent distinction being intended. (See Voss 1.) Classically a distinction is made between gaudium as inward joy and laetitia as joy which shows itself externally (LS). None of this seems to correspond to Spinoza’s usage. In St. Thomas (De Veritate 26, 5) gaudium is listed with tristitia, spes and timor as one of the four principal passions of the soul (cf. Summa theologiae Ia, IIae, 25, 2-3.

GLUTTONY

luxuria

GOAL

institutum

GOD

Deus

God

See also cognitio Dei; divinus; ens perfectissimum; essentia Dei; existentia Dei; idea Dei; intellectus Dei; substantia increata.

GODLESS

goddeloos

GODLY

godzalig

GOOD

bonus

goed

See also cognitio boni et mali, boni, bonum.

GOOD PLEASURE, GOD’S

beneplacitum (Dei)

This translation is sanctioned both by Lewis and Short and by Deferrari and Barry. But in Spinoza’s use beneplacitum is associated with the extreme Cartesian view of God’s will as completely indifferent.

GRACE

genade

GRASP

captus

GREED

avaritia

gierigheid, gulzigheid

GROUP

collegium

The group at IV/12 and 37 is the nascent Royal Society. The group at IV/39 is Spinoza’s circle of friends.

HABIT, HABITUAL DISPOSITION

habitus

HAPPINESS

felicitas

geluk

HARDNESS

durities

HARMONY

concordia, harmonia

HATE

odium

haat

HEAT

color

HEALTH

valetudo

HEAVY

See pondus

HEBREW

Hebraeus

HELL

inferi

hel

HERETIC

haereticus

HETEROGENEOUS

heterogeneus

HISTORY

historia

HOLY

sacer

HONESTY

fides

HONOR

honor

eer

Generally the Latin honor is translated in NS by eer. But in KV eer sometimes seems to represent gloria and I have translated it accordingly. Appuhn 1, I, 410, sees a distinction between eer in KV and gloria in E on the ground that gloria can arise from a knowledge of our own perfection and hence need not be contrary to reason (II/253). I do not find either the definitions or the evaluations of eer (in II, xii, though not in II, v) and gloria to be sufficiently different to warrant a distinction.

Spinoza never defines honor, but in the early sections of the TdIE seems to use honor and gloria interchangeably.

See also esteem.

HONORABLE, BEING

honestas

Classically the person who has honestas may either be honored or be worthy of honor. Spinoza’s definition suggests that the latter meaning is primary for him. (That definition also makes honestas difficult to distinguish from generositas.) Elwes and White use honor, but I have preferred to reserve that for its Latin double. None of the classical meanings of honestas seems quite appropriate to Spinoza’s usage, since his definition makes it a particular kind of desire.

HOPE

spes

hoop

HUMAN

See homo; mens humana; corpus humanum

HUMANITY

humanitas

HUMAN KINDNESS

humanitas

HUMILITY

humilitas

nederigheid

I have used humility both for humilitas in E and for nederigheid in KV. The definitions of these terms are not the same but it would be very misleading to translate otherwise. In KV nederigheid involves an accurate judgment of one’s imperfection and presumably is (like edelmoedigheid) dispassionate. In E humilitas seems to be neutral as regards the accuracy of the judgment involved and is certainly not dispassionate. This should be borne in mind in estimating the apparent change in Spinoza’s evaluation of nederigheid/humilitas.

See also self-depreciation and the note to I/68/25.

HYPOTHESIS

hypothesis

IDEA

idea

denkbeeld, idee, idea

Descartes’ use of the term idea to mean the form of any thought by the immediate perception of which I am conscious of the thought itself (AT VII, 160) caused much misunderstanding among his contemporaries. See particularly the First and Third Replies. Descartes explained to Hobbes (AT VII, 181) that he used the term idea because it was commonly used by the philosophers to signify the forms of the perceptions of the divine mind (cf. Summa theologiae I, 44, 3). The point was that man, like God, might conceive of something without having an image of it.

Spinoza follows Descartes in sharply distinguishing ideas from images (e.g., at II/131/30ff.) and is aware of the medieval usage (cf. I/42/28ff.). But he differs from Descartes in regarding ideas as the bearers of truth & falsity. For discussion see Curley 5.

In E & TdIE the Latin idea is usually translated by denkbeeld. In KV idea is usually carried over into the Dutch without being translated. Notable exceptions are the Second Dialogue of KV, I, and II, xxvi, 8-9.

IGNORANCE

ignorantia

See also asylum ignorantiae.

IMAGINATION

imaginatio

inbeelding, verbeelding

IMITATION (OF AFFECTS)

imitatio (affectuum)

IMMANENT CAUSE

causa immanens

inblijvende oorzaak

IMMEDIATELY

immediatus

onmiddelijk, immediate

IMMENSITY

immensitas

IMMORTALITY

immortalitas

onsterfelijkheid

IMMUTABILITY

immutabilitas

onveranderlijkheid

IMPETUS

impetus

IMPOSSIBLE

impossibilis

IMPRESSION

impressio

IMPULSE

impetus, impulsus

INBORN

innatus, nativus

INCLINATION

propensio

neiging

INCONSTANCY

inconstantia

INDEFINITE

indefinitus

INDIFFERENCE

See indifferens

onverschillendheid

INDIGNATION

indignatio

euvelneming

INDIVIDUAL

individuum

ondeelbar

INFANT

infans

INFINITY

infinitas, see also intellectus infinitus

oneindigheid

To be considered here is Kline 1.

INFLAMMABLE

inflammabilis

INFLUENCE

lex

invloeging

INGENUITY

ars

INGRATITUDE

ingratitudo

ondankbarheid

INHERE IN

inhaerere

INJURY

damnum

INNATE

innatus

INTELLECT

intellectus, see also dictamen intellectus

verstand

INTENTION

animus

intentie

INTERACT

commercium habere

INTEREST

commoditas

INTREPID

intrepidus

INTUITION

intuitus, see also scientia intuitiva; cognitio intuitiva

Intuitus was used by the medievals to designate an immediate (noninferential), intellectual awareness, such as we might have of first principles (see McKeon 1, 2:466). It is used in a similar sense by Descartes (AT X, 368), though primarily in a work which Spinoza may not have had access to (the Regulae ad directionem ingeni, first published in Glazemaker’s Dutch translation in 1684).

Intuitus (and its related forms) also has a classical nontechnical use in which it may simply mean a look or consideration. Sometimes it is used in this sense by Spinoza (e.g., at II/5). Descartes sometimes uses intueri as a verb of sense perception (e.g., at AT VII, 19; but cf. AT VII, 36), as does Spinoza (II/117, 278).

We should be cautious about assuming that intuitus must mean in Spinoza what it means in his predecessors. Spinoza’s discussions of his three kinds of knowledge are very brief and arguably his conceptions of them changed somewhat from KV to E. See Curley 2.

JEALOUSY

zelotypia

belgzucht

JOKING

jocus

JOY

laetitia

blijdschap

Elwes, Shirley: pleasure; White: joy. Wolfson 1, 2:206 defends the rendering of laetitia by pleasure on the ground that laetitia was one of a number of terms used for the Greek hēdonē in Latin translations of Aristotle. Nevertheless, I believe that joy is more suggestive of the overall sense of well-being that I believe Spinoza has in mind. I also think it preferable to reserve pleasure for titillatio. See pleasure and sadness

JUDGE

judex

rechter

JUDGMENT

judicium

oordeel

JUSTICE

justitia

rechtvaardigheid

KILLING

doodslaan

KIND

genus

geslacht

KNAVERY

scelus

schelmstuk

KNOWLEDGE

cognitio, scientia, notitia

kennis, wetenschap

Cognitio is Spinoza’s most common and general term for knowledge, but sometimes scientia is used in an equivalent way. When it is not, it is generally approximately equivalent to our science, except that Spinoza would be more apt than we are to number mathematics and metaphysics among the sciences. He apparently does not distinguish cognitio from scientia in the way Descartes does (AT III, 65; VII, 141). When cognitio occurs with Dei, the genitive is almost invariably objective; when scientia occurs with Dei, the genitive is invariably subjective.

It is important to remember that cognitio does not imply the truth of the proposition ‘known.’ The first kind of cognitio may involve false ideas (EIIP41).

KNOWN THROUGH ITSELF

notum per se

bekend(gekend) door zich

Traditionally this Scholastic phrase has been rendered in English by self-evident. The tradition has this much in its favor: in Scholastic usage being known per se was connected with what a twentieth-century philosopher is apt to call analyticity, so that a per se nota proposition might plausibly be identified with one which would be known as soon as the terms were understood (cf. Aquinas 2, I, 10, where this connection is considered a possible ground for regarding per se nota propositions as indemonstrable). Similarly English usage of self-evident is colored by Locke’s assumption that “universal and ready assent on hearing and understanding the terms” is characteristic of self-evident propositions (Locke 1, I, ii, 18).

But Aquinas distinguishes between what is per se nota in itself and what is per se nota to us (Aquinas 2, I, ii, or 1, Ia, 2, 1). What is per se nota in itself but not to us will not be self-evident in Locke’s sense. So even in Aquinas the traditional rendering can be misleading.

The same is true both in Descartes and in Spinoza. Descartes, for example, thinks the proposition that God exists is per se nota only to those who are free of prejudices (AT VII, 162, 163, 164, 167). In Spinoza the principle of inertia provides an analogous example. Most people, prejudiced by random experience, will instinctively reject it as false. Though it would be legitimate to take a per se nota proposition as an axiom, it is not always necessary to do so, since some are demonstrable. Cf. II/98-99 and I/201-203. See Curley 2, 52-54, Gueroult 1, l:355n; Rivaud 1.

LANGUAGE

lingua

LARGE

See magnitudo

LAUGHTER

risus

lachen

LAW

lex, jus

wet

LETTER

litera

LIFE

vita

leven

LIGHT, NATURAL; OF NATURE

lumen naturale

The natural light (of reason) is to be contrasted with the supernatural light (of revelation), not with experience. Cf. Descartes, Principles I, 30; Locke, Essay I, iii, 13.

LIKE

similis

gelijk

LIKENESS

exemplar

LIME

calx

LIMIT

finis, limes

eind

LOGIC

logica

logica

LONGING

desiderium

beklag

White and Elwes sometimes use regret for desiderium which in turn represented Descartes’ regret in the PA (III, 209). Wolf used grief for beklag, which is generally thought to represent desiderium in KV. I have preferred longing in the hope of conveying the mixture of sadness and desire which is involved. At II/168 desiderium is defined as a species of sadness (as beklag is at I/76 and as regret was). But at II/199 desiderium is defined as a species of desire. Spinoza’s explanation of this (II/200) seems to display an uncharacteristic concern for ordinary usage. The emphasis on memory at II/199 suggests nostalgia as a possible alternative. In some contexts (e.g., I/248, II/170) desiderium seems to be used in an extra-systematic sense in which it would be a synonym for cupiditas. Not to prejudge that, however, and to preserve the verbal distinction, I have abstained from desire.

LOVE

amor

liefde

To the various references in Wolfson 1 (see particularly 2:275-283, 302-308) may be added Descartes’ letter to Chanut of 1 February 1647.

LUCK

fortuna

LUST

libido

begeerlijkheid

Libido is troublesome. LS give the following classical meanings: pleasure, desire, eagerness, longing, fancy, inclination, unlawful or inordinate desire, passion, caprice, wilfullness, wantonness, sensual desire, lust. Spinoza’s definitions at II/185, 202 suggest lust as most appropriate for E, insofar as libido clearly refers to an immoderate sexual desire in those passages. (II/185 specifies an immoderate desire, II/202 doesn’t, pace White, but the contexts at II/202-203 and II/243/25 seem to settle the matter.) I take it that both the sexual and the negative connotations are implied in current English usage of lust.

However, libido in E is not always a specifically sexual desire, and sometimes is both the desire for sexual union (the term I prefer for coitus since it seems to me that Spinoza’s language need not be construed as referring exclusively to genital intercourse, cf. Matheron 2, 443) and the joy one derives from satisfying that desire. Since lust in the sense of pleasure or delight is now obsolete in English, something is lost by using lust for libido.

In TdIE libido seems generally to refer more to the state desired than to the desire. It is also not clear that the state desired necessarily involves sexual gratification. So there I have normally used sensual pleasure (as Elwes did). It seems clear that in TdIE libido does not always imply a negative evaluation (cf. §§ 6-7 with § 11).

MADNESS

delirium, insanus

MALICE

malitia

MAN

homo, see also mens humana, corpus humanum

mens

MANIFESTATION

vertoning

TO MATCH

adaequare

MANLY

mannelijk

MARRIAGE

matrimonium

MATERIAL

materia

stof

MATHEMATICS

mathematica

MATRICIDE

moedermoord

MATTER

materia

stof

MAXIM

dogma

MEANING

sensus, significatio

mening

MEANS

medium

MEASURE

analogia, mensura

MECHANICS

mechanica

MEDICINE

medicina

MEDITATION

meditatio

MELANCHOLY

melancholia

MEMORY

memoria

geheugenis

Spinoza distinguishes memoria from reminiscentia in TdIE § 83. The distinction goes back to Aristotle’s short treatise on the subject in the Parva naturalia (449b-453b), though it is not clear that Spinoza’s distinction is equivalent to Aristotle’s. For further discussion see Wolfson 1, 2:88-90, and Gueroult 1, 2:230-231.

MERCY

clementia

MERIT

meritum

METAPHYSICS

metaphysica

METHOD

methodus, see also mos; ordo

MICROSCOPE

microscopium

MIND

mens (usu.), animus (occ.)

geest, gemoed, ziel

Animus, like anima, derives from the Greek anemos (wind). But whereas classically anima is often used in the sense of wind, air or breath, animus is not. LS give a line from Nonius Marcellus which expresses a key classical distinction: animus est, quo sapimus, anima qua vivimus, i.e., animus designates the intellect, reason, or principle of thought, anima the principle of life. When Descartes, then, identifies mens, animus, intellects, and ratio (Second Meditation, AT VII, 29) his usage is classical.

Descartes also identifies mens and anima rationalis (Fifth Replies, AT VII, 355-356). And since he rejects Aristotelian talk of nutritive and sensitive souls as a symptom of intellectual confusion, he is willing simply to identify mens and anima (though with the reservation expressed in the Second Replies, AT VII, 161).

As Gueroult notes (Gueroult 1, 2:10), Spinoza’s usage of mens, animus and anima is generally Cartesian, i.e., he uses all three terms pretty much indifferently for the mind, conceived intellectualistically. A good passage to illustrate this is II/29/19ff. Nevertheless Spinoza does tend to use anima more frequently in his earlier works and mens more frequently in his later works (see Giancotti Boscherini 1, and Akkerman, 173-176). This may be because anima is more suggestive of traditional religious views, which Spinoza increasingly wishes to dissociate himself from.

I have generally used mind for mens and animus, and soul for anima. But sometimes animus used in a nontechnical sense which requires translation by spirit (e.g., at II/173/12) or in the idiom aequo animo (calmly).

MIRACLE

miraculum

mirakel

Often connections are at the surface in the Latin which are concealed in the English. In this case, it is helpful in some contexts (e.g., II/81) to recall that miraculum is related etymologically to admirari, to wonder at.

MIXTURE

mixtura

MOB

vulgus

See people

MOCKERY

irrisio

bespotting

MODERATE

moderari

MODE

modus

wijz

Modus is a technical term in Descartes (though with Scholastic precedent) for relatively specific (hence, accidental, potentially transient) properties of things, as opposed to attributum, which designates highly general (hence, essential, enduring) properties of things. Cf. The Principles of Philosophy I, 53-58. In Spinoza, however, particular things (which in Cartesian usage would normally be finite substances) are modes (E IP25SC). There is an important transition to the Spinozistic usage in the Synopsis to Descartes’ Meditations, where Descartes argues that only “body taken generally” is a substance and hence that particular bodies are not substances.

Note also that modus has a nontechnical sense in which it might be rendered by way or manner. Often it is unclear whether the technical or the nontechnical sense is intended, e.g., at E IP16.

MODEL

exemplar

Exemplar is a term of considerable importance for Spinoza’s ethical theory. Cf. Eisenberg 2, 148.

MODERATION

temperantia

Spinoza seems to be thinking primarily of moderation in eating. Cf. II/185 and II/202.

MODIFICATION

modificatio

A synonym for modus.

MOMENT

momentum

MONEY

nummi, pecunia

MORALITY

pietas

I have generally followed Appuhn (3:367) who argues that Spinoza’s definition and usage require something broader than piété with its religious connotations. White, Elwes, and Shirley all have piety. This might be defensible if you think Spinoza is engaging here in a persuasive redefinition. But in fact the classical meaning of pietas is quite broad, encompassing dutifulness toward your native country and your relatives, and kindness in general.

MOTION

motus

beweging, roering

Hayes 1, v, takes Spinoza’s consistent use of movere in the passive in his exposition of Descartes to reflect the Cartesian doctrine that bodies are always moved, because they have no force of themselves whereby they can move themselves. “For Descartes God is the principal cause of motion.” Hence he consistently translates the Latin passives by English passives.

I take these regular occurrences of the passive of movere, both in Descartes and in Spinoza, to have no philosophical significance, but to represent a conventional use of the passive in a middle sense. Spinoza uses the active only when movere is transitive. What Westfall 1, 61, observes regarding the causal interaction of finite bodies applies here also: “Descartes might not have admitted that one body can ever act, in the true sense of the word, on another. God is the only causal agent in the universe.… In practice, Descartes made no effort to maintain this ultimate metaphysical point of view, and he spoke of one body acting on another when it strikes it.”

I take it that the passage cited to show that Descartes conceives of matter as wholly inert (viz. AT VII, 26) does not show this, since it reflects a prephilosophic conception of body Descartes is in the process of disowning. For example, by the end of the Second Meditation he will reject the notion that bodies are perceptible by the senses. His physics seems content to assume that bodies have a vis se movendi. Cf. Principles III, 57-59 (and Spinoza I/209/12, 215/2).

MULTITUDE

vulgus

See people

MULTIPLICITY

multitudo

MUTILATED

mutilatus

NAME

nomen

NATION

natio

NATURE

natura, see also ordo Naturae, origo Naturae

natuur

Kline 1 distinguishes three senses: 1) = universe or cosmos, 2) = kind, and 3) = essence. He contends that sense (1) is distinguished from the others by capitalization, but his data show that there is much inconsistency in the capitalization. Nevertheless, there are at least two senses which usually can be distinguished fairly easily: one in which natura = the whole of nature (in which it is frequently capitalized), and one in which natura = essence (in which case it is normally not capitalized). I have divided my index entries in two to reflect this division. No doubt in some of the occurrences indexed under my second heading natura is being used not as a synonym for essentia, but more generally, to refer to nonessential characteristics as well. A clear example is at II/104/14-15. But to try systematically to distinguish the more general from the more specific usage would introduce too many conjectures. See also Gueroult 1, l:269n

NATURA NATURANS/NATURA NATURATA

natura naturans/natura naturata

natuurende Natuur/genatuurde Natuur

Elwes: nature viewed as active/nature viewed as passive. I have preferred to leave the Latin untranslated, since any translation would involve more interpretation than I care to engage in. Spinoza’s predecessors used these terms to mark various contrasts. Gueroult 1, 1:564-568, gives the best available survey. But I think it is questionable whether Spinoza intended to use these terms in any of the senses in which they were used by his predecessors.

NATURAL

naturalis

NECESSITY

necessitas, see also existentia necessaria

noodzakelijkheid

I still think the account in Curley 3, 83-117, is correct.

NEED

usus

NEGATION

negatio

ontkenning, negatie

NITER

nitrum

NOBILITY

generositas

Elwes uses high-mindedness, White generosity. The definition at II/188 makes the latter plausible, with its emphasis on a concern for the welfare of others. The former suggests more accurately the connection with Descartes’ générosité (PA 54, 153-156, 161, 164), which has a central role in his aristocratic ethic. Nowadays, however, high-mindedness has acquired negative connotations which are inappropriate. Wolfson 1, 2:219, 220, properly emphasizes the ancestry of this concept in Aristotle’s discussion of the great-souled man (Nicomachean Ethics 1123a-33ff.). Descartes’ générosité has voluntaristic connotations (PA III, 153) which distinguish the concept from Spinoza’s generositas.

NON-BEING

non ens

NOTHING

nihil, tò nihil

niet

Sometimes (e.g., at I/162, 268) Spinoza will use the Greek definite article τò to indicate that special use of nihil in which it is treated as if it were an expression referring to a thing which does not exist, has no properties, and yet might be the material out of which things are created. One of Spinoza’s criticisms of the traditional doctrine of creation ex nihilo is that it involves imagining that the negation of all reality is something real.

At I/83 the expressions in italics are in Latin in an otherwise Dutch context.

NOTION

notio

kundigheid

NUMBER

numerus

OBEDIENCE

obedientia, see also obtemperare

OBJECT

objectum, ideatum resideata

voorwerp

OBJECTIVELY

See objectum

In general Spinoza seems to follow the Cartesian (ultimately, Scholastic) usage which contrasts formal reality with objective reality. All ideas have the same formal reality insofar as they are modes of a thinking thing. They differ in their objective reality insofar as they represent things which differ in their formal reality. Substances have more formal reality than modes, so ideas of substances would have more objective reality than ideas of modes. Cf. the Third Meditation (AT VII, 40, 41) and the First Replies (AT VII, 102-3). Cf. also Joachim (2, 56n) for an argument that Spinoza’s usage may differ significantly from Descartes’.

ODOROUS

See odor

OMNIPOTENCE

omnipotentia

almachtigheid

OMEN

omen

OMNIPRESENCE

ubiquitas

overaltegenwoordigheid

OMNISCIENCE

omniscientia

alwetendheid

ONE

See unitas

OPINION

opinio, see also imaginatio, cognitio primi generis

waan, opinie, mening

Waan is the usual term for the first kind of knowledge in KV (though sometime geloof occurs—see belief). Probably it represents opinio, which occasionally designates the first kind of knowledge in E. Always there is a connotation of inferiority and liability to error.

Opinie is troublesome. Sometimes it clearly designates the first kind of knowledge (e.g., at I/99/17). Sometimes it is used to designate that species of the first kind of knowledge which is elsewhere designated by experientia vaga (e.g., at I/57/12 = I/559/26). Sometimes it is used in conjunction with waan as if these terms designated two different cognitive states (e.g., at I/68/5). The first two occurrences may be accounted for by supposing that the Latin had opinio in both cases. (The fluctuation between waan and opinie for opinio would then be regarded as the work of a translator.) The third occurrence is more difficult. Wolf solves it by using imagination for waan, Appuhn and Francès by using erreur for waan. Since error captures the normal meaning of waan in ordinary Dutch, I have preferred their solution.

OPPOSITE

contrarius

ORDER

ordo

orde

ORDINARY

See people

ORIGIN

origo, primordium

See Gueroult 1, 1:169, 170.

OVERESTIMATION

existimatio

achting

Existimatio is used in PA III, 149 for estime, where nothing is implied about the correctness of the judgment of the thing’s worth. Apparently it is used in a similar sense in KV II, 8. But in E it implies overestimation, the term White uses. Elwes uses partiality which has the advantage of suggesting the cause of overestimation. It would be desirable to have a term which captured the implication of the definition at II/160, that existimatio is a species of joy. But I can think of nothing suitable.

PAIN

dolor

pijn

PARABLE

parabola

parabel

PARADOXES

paradoxa

PARASITE

parasitus

PART

pars

deel

PARTIALITY

partialitas

PARTICIPATE

participare

PARTICLE

particula

See deel

PARTICULAR

particularis, specialis

bijzonder

Both Caillois (Pléiade, 1429) and Gueroult (1, 2:294) see a distinction between particularis and singularis which escapes me. I should have thought that E IIP31C indicated that Spinoza was using these terms interchangeably. Cf. E IIP48S.

PASSAGE

transitio

PASSION, ‘PASSION’

passio

lijding, passie, tocht

I have not used “affect” to translate any of the psychological terms of the KV, partly because it is not clear to me that at the time of writing that work, Spinoza has clearly distinguished between active and passive emotions. From the standpoint of the Ethics many of the occurrences of the various Dutch terms rendered by passion seem ‘nonstandard’ insofar as they embrace affects of which we might be the adequate cause (cf. E IIID2). Cf. I/56, n. 2, and I/65, n. 6. Rather than introduce “affect” into the Short Treatise, I have marked what I regard as nonstandard uses by single quotes. The term passie, which is used interchangeably with lijding, and which one would naturally assume to render passio, sometimes seems to require the same treatment, as does tocht. But it is often difficult to be sure whether a use should be marked as nonstandard. It should be observed that even in the Ethics Spinoza is not perfectly consistent about distinguishing between affectus and passio. Cf. II/204/2. See also Wolfson 1, 2:193. Passio is also awkward because there is no verb in English related to passion as passio is to pati. Some remedy this defect by pressing suffer into service. I have preferred to be acted on.

PAST

praeteritus

PATIENCE

geduld

PEACE

tranquillitas

PEOPLE, ORDINARY, THE PEOPLE

vulgus

volk

Classically vulgus can mean variously the people, the multitude, the public, or a mass, a crowd, etc. But it can also imply contempt, and Lewis and Short suggest such terms as the vulgar, the mob, the rabble. Spinoza does regularly use vulgus for people whose intelligence and opinions he has little respect for, but the contemptuous terms Lewis and Short suggest sound unduly priggish to my ear. Sometimes Spinoza contrasts vulgus with the philosophers (I/246) and the sense seems something like that of the modern philosopher’s man-in-the-street. Sometimes he will speak of a vulgus of philosophers (I/168), presumably meaning those philosophers whose opinions are quite conventional. Sometimes, particularly when he is echoing classical political commentary, the mob does seem right. For more on this, cf. Pléiade, 1443.

PERCEPTION

perceptio

gewaarwording

PERFECTION

perfectio

volmaaktheid

As White observed, it is important in understanding Spinoza’s analysis of perfection (see particularly the Preface to Part IV), to realize that perfectus is simply the past participle of perficere, to complete or finish, itself a derivative of facere, to make or do.

That Spinoza is quite self-conscious about using the term in a nonevaluative, metaphysical sense, is well indicated by his note at I/165/3-9.

PERIPATETICS

peripatetici

PERSEVERANCE

perseverantia

See volharden

PERSONALITY

personalitas

PHENOMENA

phaenomena

PHILOSOPHY

philosophia

wijsbegeerte, filosoof

Note that the occurrences of philosophia in the TdIE appear to be as a title for a projected systematic treatise.

PHYSICS

Physica

PINEAL GLAND

glandula pinealis

PIOUS

probus, see also pietas

vroom

PITY

commiseratio

White: commiseration. The use of commiseratio in this sense is not classical (LS), but commiseratio is used (indifferently with misericordia) for pitié, in PA (cf. 62, 185, 186 and see Voss 1). This perhaps accounts for Spinoza’s difficulty in seeing a distinction between them at II/195.

PLACE

locus

PLAN

institutum

PLEASURE

titillatio, deliciae, libido, see also jucundus, libido

vermaak

Elwes: stimulation; White: pleasurable excitement. Normally titillatio refers to a tickling sensation. But Spinoza regularly opposes it to dolor. Similarly, titillatio in the PA represents chatouillement which normally refers to a tickling sensation, but is opposed by Descartes to douleur. Alquié 1, 3:1024 n. 2 glosses chatouillement as plaisir and ascribes to Descartes the theory that pleasure is caused by moderate stimulation of the nerves, pain by excessive stimulation. Cf. also AT VII, 76

POSITION

situs

POSITIVE

positivus

positief, stellig

TO POSSESS

possidere, (esse) compos

Cf. Pléiade, 1391, 1447.

POSSIBILITY

possibilitas

mogelijkheid

POSTULATE

postulatum

POWER

potentia, potestas, vis, virtus

macht, kracht

Some French scholars see an important distinction between potestas (which they render pouvoir, suggesting a mere capacity) and potentia (which they render puissance, suggesting a power “en acte”—cf. Pléiade, 1421, 345, Appuhn 3:31, 59, 60). Gueroult, who appears to accept this distinction (1, I, 387-389, 2:43, 44, 49, 50) comments that Spinoza introduces the distinction in order to reduce it immediately to nothing. It is unclear that a systematic examination of Spinoza’s usage would confirm even a prima facie distinction between potentia and potestas. The main symptoms of one seem to be that power in the phrase power of acting always represents potentia, whereas in the phrase in one’s power it always represents potestas. And potestas is the term used to refer to the political power held by an established government. But sometimes Spinoza uses the terms interchangeably, as he sometimes does vis and potentia. Cf. I/275, 280; II/54, 87, 210.

PRACTICE

mos, praxis, usus

PRAISE

laus

lof

PRAYER

prex

gebed

PREDESTINATION

predestinatie

PREDETERMINATION; PREDETERMINE

praedeterminare

voorbeschikking; voorbepalen

PREDICATE

praedicatum

PREJUDICE

praejudicium

PREORDINATION

praeordinatio

PRESENCE

praesentia

PRESENTATION

repraesentamen

PRESERVATION

conservatio

behoudenis, onderhouden, voortgang

PRESSURE

impulsio

PRIDE

superbia

verwaandheid, verhovaardiging, hovaardigheid

Pride (Elwes, White) seems inevitable as a translation of superbia and its Dutch equivalents. But since these terms seem always to have a negative connotation in Spinoza, since Spinoza rejects the claim of humilitas to be a virtue, and since acquiescentia in se ipso has very positive connotations, arrogance and haughtiness deserve serious consideration as translations of superbia.

PRINCIPLE

principium (usu.) ratio (occ.)

beginsel, grondregel, regel

PRIVATE

privatus

PRIVATION

privatio

beroving

See Gueroult 1, 2:311n

PROBABILITY

verisimilitudo

PROBLEM

quaestio

kwestie

I adopt this translation from Joachim (2, 120), who observes that a quaestio is a special problem in any branch of knowledge. He refers us to Descartes’ Regulae XII (AT X, 428-30)

PROCREATE

procreare

PRODUCE AN EFFECT

operari (aliquid)

Appuhn (1, 3:343) notes that Spinoza uses agere for the activities of a free thing and operari for what a compelled thing does (e.g., in E ID7). It seems desirable to reproduce this distinction in the translation in some way and the English represents an attempt to do that. (The most natural suggestion, operate, is awkward in contexts where operari takes a direct object.)

PROHIBITION

verbod

PROPERTY

proprietas

eigenschap

Though eigenschap generally represents attributum in the KV, sometimes it seems to represent proprietas, e.g., in II, xxvii.

PROPORTION

analogia

PROPOSITION

propositio, pronuntiatum

PROPRIUM, PL. PROPRIA

proprium

eigen

I have often left proprium untranslated in its occurrences as a noun, since property is wanted for proprietas and I do not want to prejudge the question whether proprium is used in its common technical sense, a property which all and only members of a species always have, though it does not pertain to the essence of the species (e.g., having a capacity for laughter in men, cf. Gilson 1, 246-247). Eisenberg 1, 31-32, thinks it clear that in the TdIE Spinoza makes no distinction between proprietas and proprium. I find it not so clear. Certainly he sometimes makes the distinction in other works and his contemporary Dutch translators seem to have thought there was a distinction worth marking. And I find that the contract between proprium and essential property is wanted in both TdIE contexts. Spinoza does use proprium and proprietas interchangeably there but I think that is because he uses proprietas where proprium would have been more accurate.

PROVABLE

probabilis

PROVIDENCE

providentia

voorzienigheid

PRUDENCE

prudentia

voorzichtigheid

PUNISHMENT

poena, supplicium

straf

PURIFY; PURE

expurgare; purus, castus

In connection with mens and intellectus, purus means, roughly, free of ideas arising from external sources. Cf. II/34/3 the note to II/5/7, and the secondary sources cited there.

PURPOSE

finis, institutum

eind

QUALITY

qualitas

hoedanigheid

QUANTITY

quantitas

RAREFACTION

rarefactio

REALITY

realitas

REASON

ratio (usu.), causa (rar.), see also dictamen rationis

reden

REBIRTH

wedergeboorte

RECOLLECTION

reminiscentia

See memory. I have assumed that recordari corresponds to reminiscentia rather than to memoria.

RECONSTITUTION

redintegratio

REFUGE FOR IGNORANCE

asylum ignorantiae

toevlucht der onwetenheid

REGARD

contemplari

RELATION

relatio, respectus

betrekking

RELIGION

religio

godsdienst

REMEDIES

remedia

REMORSE

conscientiae morsus

knaging van ’t geweten

The translation of conscientiae morsus is quite controversial. See Bidney 1, 4, 195-204. Some translators have been guided by the usual meaning of the term (White: remorse). Others have been influenced by Spinoza’s definition (Elwes: disappointment). Nietzsche (The Geneology of Morals II, xv) saw Spinoza’s definition at II/195 as deflationary (in the manner of Bierce’s Devil’s Dictionary), as expressing the view that if good and evil are fictions, there is nothing more to the sting of conscience than a disappointed expectation. I agree that to render conscientiae morsus by disappointment would be a mistake, but am influenced mainly by the considerations in the note at II/195/20. See also repentance.

REPENTANCE

poenitentia

berouw

As Spinoza sometimes defines poenitentia (e.g., at II/163), lack of self-esteem seems appropriate. Elsewhere (e.g., at II/197) repentance is clearly required. For the sake of consistency I have stuck to the latter term. Perhaps we have another deflationary definition in the first occurrence (cf. remorse). But the variation is puzzling. In the KV Spinoza draws a distinction between knaging ( = conscientiae morsus?) and berouw ( = poenitentia) which follows Descartes’ distinction between remords de conscience and repentir (PA 177, 191), but which does not, so far as I can see, correspond to any distinction in English.

REPORT

auditus

hooren zeggen

In Curley 2, 30ff., I argued that report was preferable to the more literal hearing or hearsay in that it does not suggest a limitation to things heard rather than read, and that it does suggest a belief based on authority alone. Interesting in this connection is Descartes’ gloss on a passage in the First Meditation in his Conversation with Burman, and the commentary in Cottingham, 3, 53-54. See also the exchange between Ariew and Cottingham in Studia Cartesiana 1 (1979): 185-188.

REPUBLIC

res publica

REPUTATION

fama

RESPECT

respectus

REST

quies, see also motus et quies

rust, stilte

The Cartesian doctrine (AT XI, 40) is that rest is not merely the privation of motion, but a quality which must be atributed to a portion of matter while it remains in the same place. Spinoza apparently accepts this doctrine.

RESTRAIN

coercere

REVELATION

revelatio

openbaring

Reveal also translates manifestare.

REVERENCE

reverentia

REWARD

praemium, pretium

beloning, loon

RIDICULE

boerterij

Perhaps, as Voss suggests, boerterij in KV II, 11, represents the PA’s jocus ( = raillerie). But Spinoza seems to make no distinction between boerterij and bespotting (cf. Pléiade, 1383), whereas Descartes does make a distinction between mocquerie and raillerie (cf. Passions of the Soul III, 178-181), the latter being a characteristic of the honnête homme. If boerterij in the KV is the same affect as jocus in E, then Spinoza has reversed his negative evaluation of boerterij. More likely they are not equivalent.

RIGHT

jus, rectus

recht

RULE

regula

regel

RULER

regeerder

SADNESS

tristitia

droefheid

Elwes, Shirley: pain; White: sorrow. I reject pain because II/149/4ff. seems to dictate pain as a translation of dolor and something less tied to a specific sensory stimulation for tristitia. These choices are also influenced by PA 94. Sorrow seems a reasonable alternative.

SALT

sal

SALVATION

salus

heil

Classically, salus means health, welfare, safety. But (except in the phrase salus publica) Spinoza seems always to use it in the sense it acquired in the Christian tradition.

SANCTUARY OF IGNORANCE

asylum ignorantiae

SATISFACTION

acquiescentia

vergenoeging

When acquiescentia occurs alone, satisfaction generally seems satisfactory. When it occurs in the phrase acquiescentia in se ipso, self-esteem (q.v.) seems better.

SCHOLASTICS

scholastici

SCIENCE

scientia

wetenschap, kennis

See also knowledge

SCORN

despectus

Elwes: disparagement; White: contempt. Contempt is a possible classical meaning, but its use earlier for dedignatio excludes its use here. Disparagement seems too mild, both for classical usage and Spinoza’s definition. If there were a noun for the verb to despise, that would be the natural choice. But scorn may suggest the element of hatred involved in this species of disdain.

SCRIPTURE

scriptura

schriftuur

SEDITION

seditio

SEEDS

semina

SEEK

See appetitus

SELF-DEPRECIATION

strafbare nederigheid

As Wolf suggested, strafbare nederigheid very probably represents abjectio, for which I have used despondency in E, a debatable choice defended elsewhere. In the KV the emphasis is on the intellectual aspect rather than on the affective. Abjectio was the term used by the Latin translator of Descartes for bassesse ( = humilité vicieuse, PA 159). Wolf has culpable humility, which is a good literal translation of the Dutch. But if the Dutch is itself a translation we need not be bound by it. It has the disadvantage of suggesting that strafbare nederigheid is a species of nederigheid, which it can’t be, and of suggesting that Spinoza thinks that blame may sometimes be legitimate, which is doubtful (cf. II/81/32, I/75/14).

SELF-ESTEEM

acquiescentia in se ipso

The Latin represents Descartes’ satisfaction de soi-même at PA 190, so White’s self-satisfaction was quite reasonable. But it has acquired negative connotations which are inappropriate. Elwes’ self-approval seems an acceptable alternative.

SELF-ESTEEM, LEGITIMATE

edelmoedigheid

Edelmoedigheid probably represents generositas in KV II, 8, but its definition is so different from that of generositas in E that the two terms should not be rendered by the same English term. Nevertheless both edelmoedigheid as defined in KV and generositas as defined in E would be traits of Aristotle’s “great-souled man.” See nobility.

SELF-LOVE

philautia

SENSATION, SENSE, SENSE PERCEPTION

sensatio

gevoel, zin

SENSE, COMMON

sensus communis

In Aristotle (De Anima, 426b8-427a16), a faculty by which the soul discriminates between the perceptions of the different senses. In Descartes, sometimes the term is used in an Aristotelian sense (Dioptrique AT VI, 109; Regulae AT X, 414), sometimes it is identified with the power of imagination (Meditations AT VII, 32).

SENSELESS

See stupor

SENSUAL PLEASURE

libido, see also meretrix

zinnelijkheid

For comment see lust.

SEPARATE

amovere

SERVANT

See servitas

dienaar

SEVERITY

saevitia

SHAME; SENSE OF SHAME, SHAMELESSNESS

pudor; verecundia; impudentia

beschaamdheid, schaamte; onbeschaamdheid

Spinoza distinguishes between the sadness we feel at being blamed by others for something we have done (pudor) and a fear of being blamed which would prevent us from doing something shameful (verecundia). Elwes and White used shame and modesty to reflect this distinction, but modesty has connotations I preferred to avoid.

See also disgraceful.

So far as I can see, Spinoza intends no distinction between beschaamdheid and schaamte in the KV.

SHAPE

figura

gedaante

SICKNESS OF MIND

aegritudo animi

SIGN

See significatio

SIMILARITY

similaritas

gelijkheid

SIMPLICITY

simplicitas

eenvoudigheid

SIN

peccatum

zonde

SINGULAR

singularis

bijzonder

SIZE

magnitudo, see also moles

SKEPTIC

scepticus

twijfelaar

SKILL

ars

SLEEP

somnus

SMELL

odor

SOBRIETY

sobrietas

SOCIETY

societas

SOCINIANS

Sociniani

SOFT

mollis

SOLIDIFICATION

consistentia

SOLIDITY

firmitudo

SOMETHING

Iet

SON OF GOD

filius Dei

SORROW

verdriet

SOUL

anima

ziel

See also mind and animate. Since ziel is the term which always represents anima and usually represents mens as well, in contemporary Dutch translations of Spinoza’s works, there is no way of knowing what Latin term ziel represents in the KV. But Giancotti Boscherini’s results incline me to translate as if it represents anima.

SOUND

sanus

SPACE

spatium

SPECIES

species

gedaante

SPEED

celeritas

snelheid (PP), gezwindheid (E)

SPIRIT

animus

See also mind.

SPIRIT OF NITER

spiritus nitri

SPIRITS, ANIMAL

spiritus animales

geesten, dierlijke

SPIRITUAL

spiritualis

STANDARD

norma

STATE

status, civitas

stand

When state represents status, condition would be a plausible alternative. When it represents civitas, it refers to a political entity.

STEAL

stelen

STOICS

stoici

STORY

historia

STRENGTH OF CHARACTER

fortitudo

moed?

Elwes: strength of character; White: fortitude. Either is possible from a classical point of view, but Elwes’ seems preferable from the standpoint of generality since animositas ( = tenacity?) and generositas ( = nobility?) are both species of fortitudo. Cf. Wolfson 1, 2:218-220. One can only conjecture that moed represents fortitudo in the Short Treatise, but the emphasis there on manliness fits well with that conjecture.

STRIVING

conatus

poging, trachten

Elwes, White: endeavor. The term conatus is often left untranslated in the secondary literature. There is much to be said for this, since any translation will be contentious and potentially misleading. Endeavor is one classical meaning of conatus, along with effort, exertion, struggle, attempt, etc. (LS). I prefer striving only for stylistic reasons. The real question is whether conatus should not be rendered by tendency, also a classical meaning of conatus. In favor of tendency is the fact that conatus is a central concept in Spinozistic-Cartesian physics, where the conatus ad motum refers to the tendency of things to ‘obey’ the principle of inertia (cf. I/206, 229 and in Descartes, Principles of Philosophy III, 56) with no implication of there being any psychic state present. Against tendency is the fact that Spinoza deliberately uses a term which he is aware will suggest the presence of a psychic state (cf. I/229). In any case I think the conatus by which each thing ‘strives’ to persevere in its being is best regarded as a metaphysical generalization of physical principle of inertia. For a discussion of its historical antecedents see Wolfson 1, II, 195-204. For a discussion of the concept’s relations to other concepts in the seventeenth-century physics and a critique of some recent interpretations see Rice 1. See also animate.

STRONG

See fortitudo

STRUCTURE

fabrica

SUBJECT

subjectum

onderwerp, subject (Ep.)

In the KV subjectum sometimes occurs untranslated (but only in footnotes).

SUBSTANCE

substantia

zelfstandigheid

Spinoza’s central definition of substantia, because of its formal similarity to scholastic definitions, is apt to suggest that the relation of modes to substance is the inherence of predicates in a subject. Both Gueroult (1, 1:44-64) and Curley (3, 4-28), however, argue that the formal similarity is radically misleading.

SUPERNATURAL

supernaturalis

SUPERSTITION

superstitio

SURPRISE

verrassing

SUSPICION

suspicio

SYMPATHY

sympathia

SYNTHESIS

synthesis

TABLET

tabula

TASTE

sapor

TELESCOPE

telescopium

TEMPORARY

tijdelijk

TEMPERAMENT

ingenium

TENACITY

animositas

kloekmoedigheid

Elwes and Shirley have courage, which is certainly one classical meaning of animositas (the English cognate, however, comes from Ecclesiastical Latin). But Spinoza regards presence of mind in danger, along with moderation and sobriety, as species of animositas. White has strength of mind, which has appropriate generality, but which I reject because I have used strength of character for fortitudo. Self-control is possible, but tenacity seems to suggest better the element of striving for self-preservation. See Wolfson 1, II, 218-220. The decision to use tenacity for kloekmoedigheid and stoutheid in KV is based on the fact that kloekmoedigheid is the term most often used for animositas in the NS version of E and that stoutheid seems to be used equivalently to kloekmoedigheid in KV. See also strength of character.

TERM

terminus, vocabulum

TEXTURE

textura

THANKFULNESS

gratia

dankbarheid

THEOLOGY

theologia

theologie, see also godgeleerde

THIEF

dief

THING

res

zaak

THOUGHT

cogitatio

denking

It is sometimes said that thought is a misleading translation of cogitatio, since the latter term was traditionally used to cover a wider range of activities of consciousness than the former. See Anscombe and Geach 1, xlvii. Against this it is argued that Latin usage was never as wide as that found in Descartes and that Descartes was consciously extending existing usage. See Kenny 1, 68-69. Spinoza seems to regard Cartesian usage as needing explanation. See I/145.

Note that think sometimes translates sentire and gevoelen (though thought never translates sensatio or gevoeling).

TIME

tempus

TIMIDITY

timor

Elwes: timidity; White: fear. See also fear.

TO BE TORN

conflictari

TOTALITY

verzameling

TRACE

vestigium

TRANSFORMATION

transformatio

TRANSGRESSION

delictum

TRANSMISSION

tradux

TREACHERY

perfidia

TREMBLING

tremor

TO BE TROUBLED

conflictari

TROUBLESOME

molestus

TRUST

fides

TRUTH

veritas

waarheid

UGLINESS

deformitas

UNCONDITIONALLY

See absolutus

UNDERGO

See passio

UNHOLY

profanus

UNION

See unitas

See eenheid

UNIQUE

See unitas

See eenheid

UNITY

unitas

eenheid

UNIVERSAL

universalis, notio universalis

algemeen

UNIVERSAL BEING

alwezen

UNIVERSE

universum

heelal

UNMANLY

See mulier

UNJUST

See injuria

USAGE

usus

USEFUL

See utilitas

See nut

VACILLATION OF MIND

fluctuatio animi

wankelmoedigheid

Elwes has vacillation of soul, but the decision to use mind for animus excludes that. See mind. The definition given in E of fluctuatio animi is different from that given in KV of wankelmoedigheid, but not enough different to warrant the use of different English terms.

VACUUM

vacuum

ijdel

VARIATION

variatio

VENERATION

veneratio

In Descartes vénération is a species of estime of an object considered as a free cause. Though Spinoza declines to define it at II/192, at II/180 he makes it a species of wonder at someone who far surpasses us in prudence, diligence or some other virtue.

VENGEANCE

vindicta

VERACITY, GOD’S

veracitas Dei

VERBAL

See verbum

VICE

vitium

VIRTUE

virtus

deugd

VISIBLE

visibilis

VISION OF GOD

visio Dei

VOLATILE

volatilis

VOLITION

See voluntas

See wil

WANT

See appetitus

I have generally used this as the verb corresponding to appetite.

WAY

modus, mos

WEALTH

divitiae

rijkdom

WEARINESS

taedium

WEIGHT

pondus

WELFARE, GENERAL

salus publica

WELL-BEING

welstand

The ambiguity noted in connection with salus and heil (see salvation) also seems to characterize welstand. In some contexts well-being or welfare seems clearly indicated (e.g., at I/104-105). In others salvation is a serious alternative (e.g., at I/80, 88, 89). I have opted for well-being, but with misgivings. See also the note at I/11.

WELL-WISHING

benevolentia

WHOLE

universus

geheel

WILL

voluntas

wil

Generally the distinction between particular acts of volition and the general faculty of will is marked in Latin by the volitio/voluntas pair and in Dutch by willing/wil. For an exception, see I/82/9.

WISDOM

sapientia

wijsheid

WOMAN

mulier

WONDER

admiratio

verwondering

White: astonishment. But this seems too strong. Occasionally admiratio is used in the sense of its English cognate (e.g., at II/273). See also surprise.

WONDER, FOOLISH

stupor

Cf. Gueroult 1, 1:396n.

WORD

verbum, nomen, vocabulum

woord

WORLD

mundus

wereld

WORSHIP OF GOD

cultus Dei

Gods dienst

WRONG

injuria

WRONG

pravus

Latin–Dutch–English

ABJECTIO; ABJECTUS

[PA 159: bassesse]

neerslachigheid (E), strafbare nederigheid (KV); nederig, neerslachtig

despondency (E), self-depreciation (KV); despondent, II/198, 199, 250, 251, 252, 272

ABSOLUTUS; ABSOLUTE

volstrekt (usu.), volkomen (occ); volstrektelijk, volkomenlijk, ganselijk (rar.)

absolute; absolutely, unconditionally, I/148, 151, 161, 163, 182, 183, 217, 219, 224, 238, 247, 249, 253, 254, 255, 266, 267, II/11, 18, 38, 39, 45, 46, 49, 54, 61, 62, 65, 66, 67, 69, 70, 72, 92, 116, 117, 129, 162, 225, 226, 230, 233, 256, 277, 279, 283, 295, IV/8, 13, 43, 47, 66, 127, 147

ABSTRACTOS; ABSTRACTE

aftrekkig; abstractlijk (Ep.)

abstract, abstractly, I/132, II/11, 28, 29, 34, 35, 36, 59, 135, 257, IV/9, 56, 58, 61, 91

ACCIDENS; ACCIDENTALIS

toeval; toevallig

accident; accidental; I/150, 154, 165, 203, 236, 237, 249, 255, 269, II/13, 235, IV/11, 13, 14

ACCIDENS, PER

bij (door) toeval

accidental(ly), II/210. See also causa per accidens.

ACCIDENS REALE

zakelijk toeval

real accident, I/249, 281, IV/65

ACQUIESCENTIA; ACQUIESCERE

gerustheid; in gerust wezen

satisfaction, peace; to be satisfied, II/193, 267, 276, 283, 288, 297, 300, 304, 308

ACQUIESCENTIA IN SE IPSO

[PA 190: satisfaction de soi-même]

gerustheid op (in) zich zelf (E), edelmoedigheid (KV?)

self-esteem, II/163, 179, 183, 196, 197, 198, 248, 249, 253

ACTIO; AGERE; AGENS

doening, werking, bedrijf (rar.), werk (KV); werken, doen; doender

action; to act (usu.), to do (occ), to be active (rar.); agent, I/175, 182, 183 221, 243, 259, 273, II/24, 25, 26, 46, 61, 78, 79, 84, 85, 87, 97, 105, 117, 135, 136, 137, 138, 139, 140, 141, 142, 143, 144, 145, 163, 183, 187, 188, 206, 207, 214, 222, 226, 246, 254, 255, 266, 281, 283, 289, 291, 302, 306

ACTUALITAS; ACTUALIS; ACTU

dadelijkheid (usu.), werkelijkheid (CM); dadelijk; werkelijk, in der daad, dadelijk

actuality; actual; actually, I/185, 190, 191, 230, 239, 244, 252, II/20, 22, 50, 62, 71, 72, 75, 89, 91, 92, 94, 96, 104, 108, 128, 144, 162, 176, 204, 225, 294, 295, 296, 298 IV/59

ACTUS

daad (E, Ep.), werk (E), bedrijf (Ep.), doening (CM)

act, I/181, 254, 259, 270, II/19, 191, 197, 203, IV/10, 13, 147

ADAEQUARE; ADAEQUATUS; ADAEQUATE

gelijkmaken; evenmatig; evenmatiglijk

to match; adequate; adequately, II/10, 12, 13, 28, 95, 96, 114, 119, 134, 256, 267

ADAEQUATA IDEA ( = idea clara & distincta, II/117)

evenmatig denkbeeld

adequate idea, II/15, 28, 85, 116, 117, 118, 119, 120, 122, 123, 140, 141, 144, 145, 187, 188, 259, 266, 291, 293, 296, 298

ADMIRATIO; ADMIRARI

[PA 53: admiration]

verwondering; verwonderen

wonder (usu.), admiration (occ.); to wonder at, admire, II/81, 121, 142, 180, 181, 191, 192, 193, 201, 273

ADULATIO; ADULATOR

gevlei; pluimstrijker

flattery; flatterer, II/251, 272, IV/69. See also parasitus

AEGRITUDO ANIMI

kwaal (zwakheid) des gemoeds

sickness of mind, II/288, 293

AEMULATIO; AEMULARI; AEMULUS

[PA 172: émulation]

naijvering, krijgelheid; naijveren, krijgelen; naijverig, krijgelig

emulation; to emulate; emulous, II/160, 200

AEQUITAS; AEQUUS; AEQUALIS; INIQUUS

billijkheid; gelijkmatig, rechtmatig; gelijk; onbillijk

fairness; fair; equal; unfair, I/185, 189, 190, 224, 228, 279, II/55, 135, 162, 183, 184, 198, 201, 209, 270, 272, 275, IV/61

AEQUO ANIMO

gelijkmoediglijk

calmly, II/136, 270, 276

AEQUO ANIMO, AEQUA LANCE

met een rechtmatig gemoed, gelijkmatiglijk

fairly, II/142, 232

AETERNITAS; AETERNUS

eeuwigheid; eeuwig

eternity; eternal, I/178, 239, 241, 243, 244, 249, 250, 251, 252, 262, 263, 265, 271, II/7, 8, 36, 37, 38, 45, 46, 52, 60, 64, 65, 66, 69, 71, 72, 75, 80, 127, 128, 294, 295, 296, 299, 300, 301, 303, 304, 305, 306, 307, IV/53, 54, 55, 57, 58, 133

AETERNAE, RES (FIXAE ET)

(bestendige en) eeuwige dingen

fixed and eternal things, II/7, 36, 37, 38, 294, IV/56

AETERNITATIS, SUB (QUADAM) SPECIE

onder de (een zekere) gedaante van eeuwigheid

under the (a certain) species of eternity, II/39, 126, 257, 295, 296, 298, 299, 300, 302

AETERNO, AB

van eeuwigheid

from eternity, I/265, 270, 271, II/62, 75

AETERNUM, IN

voor eeuwig

to eternity, II/5, 62. See also veritas, aeterna

AFFECTIO; AFFICERE

aandoening; aandoen

affection; to affect, I/184, 233, 240, 241, 242, 244, 245, 247, II/45, 47, 48, 49, 68, 69, 71, 93, 96, 190, 281, 282, IV/25, 28, 47, 54, 57, 60, 77

AFFECTUS

hartstocht (usu.), lijding (rar.), tocht (rar.)

affect, feeling, II/49, 85, 137, 138, 139, 143, 144, 151, 153, 154, 160, 166, 168, 178, 179, 184, 185, 186, 187, 203, 204, 214, 215, 216, 217, 218, 219, 281, 282, 283, 284, 285, 286, 287, 289, 292, 293, 294, IV/42

AFFECTUS CONTRARIUS

strijdige hartstocht

opposite affect, II/209, 210, 214, 215, 304, 305

AFFECTUS PRIMARIUS, PRIMITIVUS

voorname, eerste en oorspronkelijke hartstocht

primary, primitive affect, II/149, 186, 189, 192, 203

AFFIRMATIO; AFFIRMARE; AFFIRMATIVUS

bevestiging; bevestigen; bevestiglijk

affirmation; to affirm; affirmative, I/132, 234, 277, 278, II/15, 20, 33, 34, 35, 49, 129, 130, 132, 133, IV/130

AFFINGERE

verdichten

to ascribe fictitiously, I/227, II/20, 21, 49

AMBITIO; AMBITIOSUS

roemzucht; roemzuchtig

ambition; ambitious, II/162, 164, 165, 170, 185, 202, 203, 243, 273, 283, 288

AMICITIA; INIMICITIA; AMICUS

vriendschap; vijandschap; vriend

friendship; enmity; friend, II/166, 188, 236, 263, 269, 270, 271, 273, 288, 294, IV/5, 7, 69

AMOR; AMARE, AMASIA

[PA 56, 79-85: amour]

liefde; beminnen (usu.), liefhebben (occ.), lieven (occ.); vrister

love; to love; lover, I/235, 247, 264, II/7, 40, 71, 85, 136, 151, 152, 153, 155, 156, 157, 158, 159, 160, 162, 163, 164, 165, 166, 169, 171, 172, 173, 174, 175, 176, 177, 178, 184, 185, 186, 189, 192, 193, 222, 242, 243, 245, 252, 269, 271, 272, 281, 283, 287, 289, 294

AMOR DEI (SUBJ. GEN.)

Gods liefde

God’s love, I/264, II/291, 292, 302, 303

AMOR DEI (OBJ. GEN.), ERGA DEUM

Gods liefde, liefde tot God

love of, toward God, I/158, II/7, 290, 291, 292, 300, 301, 302, 303, 304, 307, 308

ANALOGIA

evenredenheid, gelijkvormigheid

proportion, measure, I/162, 263, IV/8

ANALYSIS

ontbinding

analysis, I/129, IV/48, 49

ANGELUS

engel

angel, I/161, 179, 188, 262, 267, 275

ANIMA; ANIMATUS

ziel; bezielt

soul; animate, I/132, 144, 146, 150, 188, 260, 275, 276, 277, 278, II/11, 15, 22, 23, 25, 28, 29, 31, 32, 96, 117, 187, 278, 279, IV/6, 77

ANIMA SIVE MENS

ziel of geest, II/278

ANIMA ALTRIX

voedende ziel

nutritive soul, I/259

ANIMA INTELLECTIVA

verstandelijke ziel

intellective soul, I/259

ANIMA SENSITIVA

gevoelige ziel

sensitive soul, I/259

ANIMA VEGETATIVA

groeijige ziel

vegetative soul, I/259

ANIMOSITAS

[PA 171: courage]

kloekmoedigheid (usu.), stoutmoedigheid (rar.), stoutheid (KV)

tenacity, II/188, 203, 262, 265, 288, 306, 307

ANIMUS

gemoed

mind (usu.), spirit (occ.), intention (occ.), disposition (rar.), I/141, 159, 249, 273, II/5, 6, 7, 18, 29, 30, 74, 93, 102, 135, 136, 142, 158, 173, 174, 183, 201, 222, 244, 246, 250, 251, 252, 264, 269, 270, 276, 288, 289, 307, 308, IV/39, 73, 151, 159

ANTIPATHIA

afkeerlijkheid, antipatie

antipathy, I/197, II/152

A POSTERIORI

van achteren, afteren

a posteriori, I/159, 250, II/54

APPETITUS; APPETERE

begeerte (CM, EI), lust (EIII-V); begeren (usu.), betrachten (occ.)

appetite; to want (usu.), to seek (occ.), I/278, II/78, 80, 138, 143, 144, 147, 148, 161, 166, 167, 168, 169, 186, 187, 190, 199, 203, 207, 210, 223, 263, 283, 289, IV/128, 129

A PRIORI

van voren

a priori, I/250, II/54

APTUS

bekwaam

capable, II/10, 11, 97, 103, 142, 297, 304, 305

ARS

kunst

art, skill, ingenuity, II/6, 9, 81, 142, 143, 269, 274, 277

ASINUS (BURIDANI)

de Buridansche ezel

Buridan’s ass, I/277, 278, II/133, 135

ASSENSUS; ASSENTIRI

toestemming; toestemmen

assent; to assent, I/146, 173, 174, 175, 239, II/23, 24, 25, 132, 133

ASYLUM IGNORANTIAE

toevlucht, schuilplaats, der onwetenheid

refuge for, sanctuary of, ignorance, II/81, IV/12

ATOMUS

ondelig atom, I/181, 190, 191

ATTRIBUTUM; TRIBUERE

toeeigening (usu.), eigenschap (KV), sometimes untrans., toevoeging (rar.); toeeigenen

attribute; to attribute, I/145, 150, 158, 160, 161, 163, 185, 237, 238, 239, 240, 244, 248, 250, 253, 254, 255, 257, 258, 259, 261, 266, 269, 273, 274, 275, 280, II/29, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 51, 52, 55, 56, 60, 62, 64, 65, 67, 68, 69, 71, 72, 82, 86, 88, 89, 90, 91, 93, 94, 98, 108, 109, 121, 127, 141, 143, 144, 190, 213, 228, 239, 267, IV/5, 7, 11, 13, 14, 36, 41, 44, 45, 46, 47, 127, 133, 148

ATTRIBUTUM DEI

toeeigening van God, sometimes untranslated

attribute of God, I/158, 238, 239, 244, 248, 253, 255, 257, 259, 274, 275, II/29, 64, 65, 66, 86, 88, 89, 90, 91, 122, 146, 267, IV/36, 124

AUDACIA; AUDAX

[PA 171: hardiesse]

stoutheid; stout

daring; daring, II/179, 201, 262, 280

AUDITUS

gehoor (TdIE, Ep), horen zeggen (KV)

report, hearing (nontech.), II/10, 12, 28, IV/77

AUTOMATON

zelfsbewegsel, zelfsbeweegbar

automaton, II/18, 32

AUXILIA (INTELLECTUS, IMAGINATIONIS)

hulpmiddelen (van het verstand, van d’inbeelding)

aids (of the intellect, of the imagination), II/15, 37, IV/57, 58

AVARITIA; AVARUS

gierigheid, gulzigheid; gierigaard

greed; greedy (man), II/7, 79, 170, 185, 202, 203, 210, 243, 288

AVERSIO; AVERSARI

[PA 80: aversion]

afkeer; afkeer hebben

aversion; to be averse to, avoid, be repelled by, II/162, 163, 193, 223, 258

AXIOMA

kundigheid (TdIE, and usu. E), gemene Kennis (PP), geloofspreuk (rar. E), gemene kundigheid (Ep.)

axiom, I/127, 151, 201, II/12, 28, 34, 50, 120, 139, IV/10, 11, 13, 40, 43, 72

BEATITUDO; BEATUS

zaligheid (usu. in E), gelukzaligheid (PP, EII); zalig (usu.), gelukzalig (CM)

blessedness; blessed, I/158, 159, 264, 271, II/84, 135, 225, 250, 267, 277, 280, 300, 301, 303, 307, 308, IV/127, 131

BENEFICIUM; BENEFACERE

weldaad; weldoen

benefit, favor; to do good to, benefit, II/157, 161, 169, 172, 173, 179, 236, 248, 252, 262, 263, 271

BENEPLACITUM (DEI)

(God’s) welbehagen

(God’s) good pleasure, I/201, II/76, 77

BENEVOLENTIA

[PA 81: bienveillance]

goedwilligheid

benevolence, II/161, 200

BONI, SUB RATIONE

in opzicht van ’t goede, onder schijn van goed

for the sake of the good, for what seems good, I/278, II/76

BONUM, SUMMUM

het opperste goed

the greatest good, II/5, 8, 228, 234, 235, 236, 253, 273, 292

BONUS

goed

good (usu.), good fortune (rar.), I/235, 247, 248, 249, 264, 278, 279, II/5, 6, 7, 8, 76, 78, 81, 82, 83, 148, 170, 179, 205, 208, 209, 215, 223, 224, 227, 228, 229, 230, 233, 237, 238, 239, 240, 241, 242, 253, 254, 255, 257, 259, 260, 261, 262, 266, 267, 268, 275, 276, 288, IV/130

BRUTUM ( = ANIMALE IRRATIONALE)

stomme beest

lower animal, I/160, 247, 259, 260, II/26, 142, 187, 234, 236, 237, 262, 270

CALOR; CALIDUS

hitte; warm

heat; warm, II/81, IV/25, 28, 67, 68

CALX

kalk

lime, calx, IV/25, 65, 68

CAPTUS; CAPERE

verstand (PP, CM), bevatting (E, TdIE); verstaan

grasp, power of understanding; grasp, I/132, 190, 191, 243, 244, 254, II/6, 9, 33, 79, IV/129, 130

CARPERE

overhalen en uitmaken, berispen

to censure, find fault, II/137, 197, 252, 269

CASTITAS; CASTUS

kuisheid; zuiver en oprecht

chastity; pure, II/185, 203, IV/28

CASUS

geval

chance, II/81

CAUSA

oorzaak (usu.), reden (occ.)

cause (usu.), reason (occ.), ground (occ), I/150, 154, 155, 156, 157, 158, 159, 161, 164, 165, 169, 170, 172, 173, 176, 179, 180, 196, 197, 201, 220, 221, 222, 226, 227, 229, 236, 237, 238, 240, 241, 243, 250, 262, 277, 280, II/10, 11, 15, 20, 22, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 32, 34, 36, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 63, 64, 67, 68, 69, 70, 73, 74, 75, 77, 78, 80, 85, 88, 89, 90, 92, 93, 96, 120, 122, 125, 129, 131, 137, 138, 142, 154, 163, 166, 167, 190, 191, 192, 209, 210, 213, 215, 261, 280, 281, 284, 286, 289, 290, 291, 292, 293, 295, 300, 301, 302, IV/9, 11, 14, 20, 32, 53, 61, 62, 65, 68, 77, 91, 93, 128, 130

CAUSA ADAEQUATA

evenmatige oorzaak

adequate cause, II/139, 140, 212, 213, 299

CAUSA ADVENTITIA

buitenkomende oorzaak

adventitious cause, I/279, 280

CAUSA EFFICIENS

uitwerkende, werkende oorzaak

efficient cause, I/170, 242, 268, II/60, 61, 67, 68, 74, 85, 152, 153, 207, 208

CAUSA ESSENDI

cause of being, II/67

CAUSA EXTERNA

uitwendige, uitterlijke oorzaak

external cause, I/158, 165, 201, 202, 203, 204, 206, 241, 256, 281, II/14, 20, 25, 32, 51, 54, 74, 99, 145, 147, 151, 163, 165, 185, 186, 212, 213, 214, 222, 224, 281, 283, 287, 293, 305, 308, IV/9

CAUSA FINALIS

eindelijke oorzaak

final cause, II/78, 79, 80, 207

CAUSA FORMALIS

vormelijke oorzaak

formal cause, II/299

CAUSA IMMANENS

inblijvende oorzaak

immanent cause, II/63, 64

CAUSA INTERMEDIA

tusschenmiddelige oorzaak

intermediate cause, II/80

CAUSA INTERNA

inwendige, innerlijke oorzaak

internal cause, I/158, 241, 256, II/163

CAUSA LIBERA

vrije oorzaak

free cause, II/61, 71, 72, 76, 77, 129

CAUSA MEDIANS

middel oorzaak

mediating cause, I/265

CAUSA NATURALIS

natural cause, I/226

CAUSA INADAEQUATA SEU PARTIALIS

onevenmatige of ten deel oorzaak

inadequate or partial cause, II/139, 212

CAUSA PARTICULARIS

bijzondere oorzaak

particular cause, I/200, 201

CAUSA PER ACCIDENS

oorzaak door toeval, bij toeval

accidental cause, II/61, 151, 152, 153, 167, 177, 193, 196

CAUSA PER SE

oorzaak door zich

cause through itself, II/61, 152, 153

CAUSA PRIMA

eerste oorzaak

first cause, I/155, 156, 157, 254, II/34, 49, 61, 76, 107, 138, 207, IV/8, 15, 36, 51

CAUSA PRIMARIA (SIVE GENERALIS)

eerste (of algemene) oorzaak

primary (or general) cause, I/200, II/207

CAUSA PRINCIPALIS

voorname oorzaak

principal cause, I/200

CAUSA PROXIMA

naaste oorzaak

proximate cause, II/10, 19, 34, 35, 37, 70, 90, 145, 233, 266, 279

CAUSA REMOTA

afgelege, verder oorzaak

remote cause, II/70

CAUSA SINGULARIS

bijzondere oorzaak

singular cause, II/280

CAUSA SUFFICIENS

genoegzame oorzaak

sufficient cause, I/165, 179, 277, 280

CAUSA SUI

oorzaak van zich

cause of itself, II/34, 45, 49, 55, 67, 68, 77, IV/11

CAUSA TRANSIENS

overgaande oorzaak

transitive cause, II/63, 64

CELERITAS

snelheid (PP), gezwindheid (E)

speed, I/185, 192, 193, 194, 199, 208, 209, 210, 211, 212, 213, 214, 215, 216, 219, 221, 222, 223, 224, II/97, 99, 100, 101, 142

CEREBRUM

hersenen (usu.), brein (occ.)

brain, I/149, 160, II/21, 31, 82, 83, 130, 132, 278, 280

CERTITUDO; CERTUS

zekerheid; zeker

certainty; certain, I/128, 129, 141, 142, 143, 144, 145, 146, 147, 148, 149, 151, 152, 153, 155, 166, 172, 174, 201, 207, 209, 234, 244, 247, 267, II/5, 6, 8, 11, 12, 13, 15, 18, 23, 28, 29, 30, 32, 38, 39, 46, 50, 52, 54, 57, 58, 68, 70, 72, 78, 84, 96, 124, 131, 134, 155, 194, 228, 246, 257, 278, 279, 287, 300, IV/40, 132

CHIMAERA

verdichtzel (CM, Ep.), ’t gedrocht (TdIE), untranslated (KV)

chimaera, I/82, 233, 240, 241, 242, II/20, IV/45

CHRISTIANI

christenen

Christians, IV/39

CHRISTUS

Christus

Christ, II/262

CHYMIA; CHEMICUS

stoffscheiding; stoffscheider, stoffscheidig

chemistry; chemist, chemical, IV/48, 49, 50, 51

CIRCUMSTANTIA

omstandigheid

circumstance, I/221, II/36, 167, 168

CIVITAS; CIVIS; CIVILIS

staat (usu.), burgerschap (rar.); burger; burgerlijk

state (usu.), community; citizen; civil, II/9, 136, 236, 237, 238, 241, 244, 248, 264, 265, 270

CLARUS ET DISTINCTUS; CLARE ET DISTINCTE

klaar en onderscheiden(lijk); klaar en onderscheid

clear and distinct; clearly and distinctly, I/132, 142, 144, 145, 146, 153, 157, 168, 171, 172, 173, 179, 190, 192, 196, 200, 233, 238, 243, 247, 260, 261, II/24, 25, 26, 28, 29, 30, 34, 36, 38, 39, 50, 113, 114, 117, 119, 120, 125, 127, 139, 227, 248, 249, 255, 276, 279, 282, 283, 287, 289, 290, 294, 297, 298, 304, IV/13, 59, 130

CLASSIS

schok (CM), stand (E), bende (Ep)

class, I/234, 235, II/175, IV/57

CLEMENTIA

goedertierenheid

mercy, II/188, 201

COACTUS

gedwongen

compelled, II/46, 61, 72, 224

COERCERE

intomen, bedwingen

to restrain, II/277, 285, 287, 307, 308

COGITATIO; COGITARE

denking (usu.), gedacht (rar.); denken

thought; to think, I/132, 143, 144, 145, 146, 147, 148, 149, 152, 153, 154, 155, 156, 157, 160, 173, 175, 225, 229, 233, 234, 235, 244, 245, 246, 250, 257, 269, 270, 277, 279, 280, II/6, 7, 9, 22, 23, 26, 28, 30, 38, 45, 65, 66, 72, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 90, 92, 93, 94, 107, 108, 109, 129, 130, 132, 135, 141, 144, 148, 162, 188, 203, 204, 207, 208, 274, 278, 279, 280, 281, 283, 286, 288, 295, 306, IV/5, 6, 10, 13, 40, 45, 57, 78, 132

COGNITIO; COGNOSCERE

kennis; kennen

knowledge; to know, I/127, 132, 133, 144, 148, 151, 158, 162, 226, 227, 229, 244, 262, 263, 266, 275, II/8, 11, 13, 19, 26, 29, 30, 34, 36, 37, 38, 46, 50, 57, 74, 84, 89, 92, 93, 95, 97, 107, 108, 110, 116, 117, 122, 123, 124, 135, 246, 260, 265, 266, 273, 280, 283, 287, 289, 293, 294, 303, IV/8, 39, 87

COGNITIO ADAEQUATA

evenmatige kennis

adequate knowledge, II/96, 110, 111, 112, 113, 114, 115, 117, 122, 123, 127, 128, 296

COGNITIO BONI ET MALI

kennis van goed en kwaad

knowledge of good and evil, II/215, 219, 220, 221, 223, 257, 258, 259, 261

COGNITIO DEI (OBJ. GEN.)

kennis van God

knowledge of God, II/30, 34, 57, 136, 228, 234, 235, 236, 267, 295, 296, 297, 299, 305, IV/131

COGNITIO DEI (SUBJ. GEN.)

Gods kennis

God’s knowledge, I/170, 239

COGNITIO INTUITIVA

inzienige kennis

intuitive knowledge, II/267

COGNITIO NATURALIS

natuurlijke kennis

natural knowledge, I/275

COGNITIO PRIMI GENERIS

kennis van ’t eerste geslacht (slag)

knowledge of the first kind, II/122, 123, 125, 297, 298. See also opinio, imaginatio

COGNITIO REFLEXIVA

weerkerige kennis

reflexive knowledge, II/15, 16, 38

COGNITIO SECUNDI GENERIS

kennis van het tweede geslacht (slag)

knowledge of the second kind, II/122, 123, 297, 298, 303, 304. See also ratio

COGNITIO SUI (IPSIUS)

kennis van zich (zelf)

knowledge of oneself, II/114, 249, 300

COGNITIO TERTII GENERIS

kennis van het derde geslacht (slag)

knowledge of the third kind, II/122, 123, 128, 294, 296, 297, 298, 299, 300, 301, 303, 304. See also scientia intuitiva

COLLEGIUM

group (Spinoza circle), IV/39

COLLEGIUM PHILOSOPHICUM, PHILOSOPHANTIUM

filosofische vergadering, vergadering der filosofeerders

philosophical group, group of philosophers, IV/12, 37

COLOR

verwe

color, I/255, IV/25, 50, 67, 158, 159

COMMENDARE

aanbevelen, aanprijzen

to commend, II/245, 250

COMMENTUM

verdichtsel

fiction, II/207

COMMERCIUM HABERE

gemeenschap hebben

to interact, II/16, 17

COMMISERATIO; MISERERI

medelijden; deernis hebben over

pity; to pity, II/157, 160, 161, 195, 247, 253, 271, 285

COMMODA; COMMODITAS

gemakken; nuttigheid

conveniences; interest, II/79, IV/51

COMMOTIO (ANIMI, ANIMAE)

[PA 27: émotion]

ontroerenis, beweging (gemoeds, van de ziel)

emotion, disturbance of the mind, II/7, 197, 221, 279, 281

COMMUNIS

gemeen

common, ordinary, shared, general, I/142, 183, 188, II/5, 31, 40, 46, 47, 48, 53, 55, 79, 96, 107, 115, 118, 119, 120, 121, 122, 128, 134, 135, 136, 137, 179, 180, 184, 195, 223, 228, 229, 234, 235, 236, 238, 241, 245, 250, 264, 265, 270, 282, 285, 288, 289, 292, 293, 301, 307, IV/7, 14

COMMUNIS NATURAE ORDO

gemene ordening (loop) de natuur

common order of nature, II/114, 115, 213, 252, 268

COMPARATIO; COMPARARE

vergelijking; vergelijken, stellen, verkrijgen

comparison; to compare, constitute, acquire, I/162, 234, 244, 245, 262, II/7, 165, 179, 183, 204, 207, 208, 214, 220, 231, 234, 242, 271, 274, 280, 283, 293, IV/128

COMPOSITIO; COMPONERE; COMPOSITUS

zamenzetting; te zamen zetten (maken); te zamen gezet

composition; to compose; composite, I/227, 258, II/24, 25, 26, 32, 99, 100, 101, 102, 103, 111, 189, 203, IV/50, 56, 67, 68

COMPROBARE

bewijzen, bevestigen

to confirm, ‘confirm,’ IV/21, 29, 30

CONATUS, CONAMEN (II/153); CONARI

poging; pogen (usu.), trachten (occ.), betrachten (rar.)

striving; to strive, I/206, 229, 248, II/8, 79, 146, 147, 148, 150, 153, 155, 156, 158, 161, 162, 164, 165, 166, 167, 168, 169, 170, 171, 172, 174, 182, 183, 186, 188, 189, 190, 199, 200, 214, 221, 222, 223, 224, 225, 226, 227, 248, 255, 266, 276, 292, 296, 297

CONCATENATIO; CONCATENARE

samenschakeling; samenschakelen

connection; to connect, II/23, 30, 34, 35, 77, 107, 141, 281, 287, 293, 305, IV/77

CONCEPTUS; CONCIPERE; INCONCEPTIBILIS

bevatting, begrip; bevatten, begrijpen; onbevattelijk

concept; to conceive; inconceivable, I/132, 145, 148, 150, 151, 155, 157, 162, 192, 240, 244, 245, 251, 257, 258, 264, 269, II/11, 20, 21, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 33, 34, 35, 45, 46, 47, 50, 52, 55, 56, 84, 85, 86, 89, 98, 109, 126, 127, 128, 130, 131, 133, 212, 216, 257, 261, 265, 274, 279, 282, 293, 294, 295, 296, 298, 299, IV/7, 10, 13, 43, 44, 45, 46, 55, 132

CONCORDIA; CONCORDITER

eendracht; eendrachtiglijk

harmony; harmoniously, II/237, 241, 270, 271, 272

CONCURSUS DEI; CONCURRERE

medewerking, Gods; samenlopen

God’s concurrence; to concur, I/181, 200, 201, 202, 243, 247, 262, 263, 273, 274, 275, 280

CONDENSATIO

verdikking

condensation, I/186

CONFIRMARE

bevestigen

to confirm, IV/17, 24, 31, 50, 66

CONFLICTARI

bestrijden werden

to be torn, troubled, II/143, 144, 173, 178, 214, 220, 231, 287, 293, 305

CONFUSIO; CONFUNDERE; CONFUSUS; CONFUSE

verwarring; verwarren (usu.), vermengen (rar.); verward; verwardelijk

confusion; to confuse; confused; confusedly, I/144, 145, 164, 175, 182, 234, 245, II/11, 20, 21, 24, 25, 26, 28, 29, 30, 39, 49, 72, 78, 81, 82, 83, 97, 113, 114, 117, 121, 122, 123, 140, 147, 203, 204, 211, 265, 293, 298, IV/8, 9, 61, 77

CONNEXIO

samenknoping

connection, I/273, 274, II/36, 89, 90, 92, 108, 191, 281

CONSCIENTIA; CONSCIUS; INSCIUS, SUI

meewustigheid, medeweting, geweten, medegeweten; meewustig, bewust, kundig; onkundig van zich zelf

consciousness; conscious, aware of; unconscious of oneself, I/149, II/18, 21, 78, 117, 143, 147, 148, 163, 190, 207, 215, 216, 223, 259, 276, 285, 300, 301, 305, 308

CONSCIENTIAE MORSUS

[PA 177: remords de conscience]

knaging van ’t geweten

remorse, II/155, 195, 246

CONSENSUS

toestemming, stemming

consent, II/192, 238

CONSERVATIO; CONSERVARE

behoudenis, behoudening; onderhouden, behouden, bewaren

preservation; to preserve, I/145, 157, 161, 163, 165, 166, 169, 170, 172, 188, 191, 200, 242, 243, 247, 248, 252, 255, 262, 263, 264, 267, 269, 270, 274, II/7, 102, 147, 151, 155, 168, 174, 188, 190, 213, 215, 222, 223, 224, 225, 226, 227, 238, 239, 240, 241, 251, 253, 256, 261, 264, 265, 268, 273, 274, IV/129

CONSISTENTIA; CONSISTERE; CONSISTENS

bestandigheid; bestandig worden; bestandig

coming to rest, solidification; to come to rest, solidify; solid, IV/17, 18, 28, 29, 31, 65

CONSTANTIA

standvastigheid, bestandigheid

constancy, I/179, 243

CONSTERNATIO

verslagenheid (usu.), verbaasdheid (rar.)

consternation, II/171, 180, 201

CONSTITUTIO; CONSTITUERE

gesteltheid (usu.), gesteltenis (occ.); stellen

constitution, condition; to constitute, II/45, 51, 52, 104, 106, 115, 153, 189, 190, 204, 211

CONSUETUDO

gewoonte, gemeenschap

custom, association, II/107, 197, 269, 273, 274

CONTEMPLARI

aanschouwen

regard (usu.), contemplate (rar.), II/104, 105, 106, 112, 114, 291

CONTEMPTUS; CONTEMNERE

[PA 54: mépris]

versmading; versmaden, verachten disdain; to disdain, II/136, 179, 180, 181, 192, 198, 244, 245, 247

CONTINGENTIA; CONTINGENS

gebeurlijkheid; gebeurlijk

contingency; contingent, I/155, 242, 247, 261, 262, II/70, 71, 74, 87, 115, 125, 126, 209, 217, 218, 219, 221, 284, IV/130

CONTINUUS; CONTINUO

gedurig; geduriglijk

continuous; continually, I/127, 130, 148, 170, 172, 179, 203, 204, 205, 206, 220, 221, 222, 228, 234, 250, 251, 252, 254, 255, 270, 276, II/58, 100, 165, 244, 274, 287, 303, 305, IV/130, 149

CONTRADICTIO; CONTRADICTORIUM

tegenzeglijkheid; tegenstelling

contradiction; contradictory, I/162, 227, 233, II/19, 20, 48, 53, 56, 74, 256, IV/53

CONTRARIUS

strijdig, tegendelig

opposite, contrary, I/185, 204, 207, 208, 211, 216, 221, 222, 281, II/81, 143, 145, 149, 153, 154, 185, 206, 212, 215, 222, 224, 229, 230, 231, 232, 269, 281, 287, 292

CONVENIENTIA; CONVENIRE

overeenkoming (usu.), overeenkomst; overeenkomen

agreement; to agree, I/154, 162, 185, 235, 245, 246, II/12, 16, 17, 22, 47, 63, 82, 85, 98, 110, 114, 116, 119, 124, 146, 206, 222, 223, 229, 230, 232, 268, 276, IV/50, 66

CORPUS; CORPOREUS

lichaam; lichamelijk

body; corporeal, I/132, 150, 151, 152, 153, 167, 176, 177, 181, 182, 184, 185, 186, 187, 188, 189, 196, 198, 202, 203, 206, 207, 209, 210, 211, 212, 213, 214, 215, 216, 217, 218, 219, 220, 221, 222, 223, 224, 225, 260, 275, 276, 281, II/11, 21, 22, 28, 31, 32, 33, 45, 53, 55, 57, 58, 59, 84, 86, 95, 96, 97, 98, 99, 100, 101, 102, 103, 104, 105, 109, 110, 111, 112, 113, 114, 119, 120, 121, 141, 142, 143, 144, 150, 162, 165, 189, 191, 215, 223, 278, 279, 280, 281, 282, 287, 293, 294, 295, IV/10, 29, 55, 60, 74, 77, 131

CORPUS HUMANUM

het menselijke lichaam

the human body, II/96, 97, 102, 103, 104, 105, 106, 107, 108, 110, 111, 112, 113, 114, 115, 119, 120, 121, 139, 141, 142, 143, 144, 148, 239, 240, 241, 244, 274, 295, 296, 298, 299, 300, 301, 304, 305, 306

CORPUSCULUM

lichaamtje

particle, I/220, 221, IV/68

CORRUPTIO; CORRUMPI; CORRUPTUS; CORRUPTIBILIS

verderving, verdervenis; vergaan; bedorven; verderfelijk, vergankelijk

corruption; to be corrupted; corrupt; corruptible, I/255, 276, II/31, 60, 82, 83, 115

CREATIO; CREATOR; CREATURA; CREARE; CREATUS; CREABILIS

schepping; schepper; schepsel; scheppen; geschapen; schepbar

creation; creator; creature; to create; created; creatable, I/143, 146, 161, 162, 163, 165, 166, 168, 170, 172, 177, 179, 191, 201, 237, 238, 239, 240, 241, 242, 243, 248, 249, 250, 251, 252, 254, 255, 256, 263, 264, 267, 268, 269, 270, 271, 272, 273, 274, 275, 276, 280, II/23, 27, 35, 50, 57, 62, 75, 76, 80, 82, 83, 93, 120, 261, IV/11, 14, 36, 129

CREATIO CONTINUA

gedurige schepping

continuous creation, I/170, 254, 273, IV/129, 130

CRUDELITAS

wreedheid

cruelty, II/173, 201

CRYSTALLUS; CRYSTALLISARE

kristal; kristallig maken

crystal; to crystallize, IV/17, 23, 49

CULTUS DEI

Gods dienst

worship of God, II/79, 81

CUPIDITAS; CUPERE

[PA: désir]

begeerte; begeren

desire; to desire, I/132, 145, 166, 173, 256, 267, II/6, 8, 12, 71, 72, 79, 80, 85, 129, 130, 148, 149, 151, 152, 160, 161, 164, 165, 167, 168, 169, 170, 183, 184, 185, 186, 187, 188, 189, 190, 192, 193, 199, 200, 201, 202, 203, 204, 220, 221, 225, 235, 242, 253, 254, 255, 256, 257, 258, 260, 261, 263, 265, 266, 267, 271, 275, 283, 297, IV/149, 150, 151

DAMNUM; DAMNUM INFERRE

schade; schade aandoen

injury; to injure, II/157, 162, 174, 201, 232, 234, 237, 238, 244

DECEPTIO; DECEPTOR

bedrog; bedrieger

deception; deceiver, I/145, 147, 148, 171, 172, II/28, 30

DECRETUM

besluit

decision, II/142, 143, 144, 192, 197, 264, 265, 280

DECRETUM DEI

Gods besluit

God’s decree, I/177, 179, 240, 241, 243, 263, 264, 265, 266, 267, 276, II/62, 75, 136, IV/127, 128, 130

DEDIGNATIO

[PA 163; dédain]

verontwaardiging

contempt, II/181, 189, 192

DEDUCERE

afleiden (usu.), deduceren (rar.), uittrekken

deduce, I/153, 172, 227, 229, II/16, 23, 24, 36, 78, 97, 102, 128, 143, 153, 180, 212, 213, 235, 266, 279, 280, 287, 289, IV/91, 149

DEFINITIO; DEFINIRE; DEFINITUS

bepaling (usu.), beschrijving (KV), definitie (Ep.); bepalen (usu.), beschrijven (KV); bepaald

definition; to define, limit; definite, I/127, 130, 158, 160, 163, 171, 203, 233, 235, 236, 239, II/34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 46, 50, 51, 60, 74, 92, 145, 186, 190, 280, IV/8, 10, 13, 39, 40, 42, 43, 44, 47, 53, 54

DEFORMITAS

lelijkheid

ugliness, II/78, 81, 82, 83

DELIBERATIO

berading

deliberation, II/192

DELICIAE; DELECTARE; DELECTARI

(+ ABL.)

geneugten; aangenaam aan … zijn, vermaken, verheugen; vermak hebben (scheppen) in, z. verheugen over

pleasures; to please; to take pleasure in, be pleased by, II/9, 82, 83, 138, 163, 165, 167, 168, 189, 244, 252, 253, 300

DELICTUM

kwaad

transgression, IV/131

DELIRIUM; DELIRARE; DELIRANS

spoorloosheid (usu.), suffing (occ.); spoorloos zijn; spoorloos

madness; to be mad; mad, II/23, 24, 143, 159, 243, 271, IV/77

DEMONSTRATIO; DEMONSTRARE

betoging, bewijs; betogen, bewijzen

demonstration, to demonstrate, I/127, 128, 129, 130, 131, 141, 142, 202, 203, II/11, 17, 20, 23, 35, 138, 222, 296, 303, IV/8, 25, 29, 34, 39, 40, 44, 72, 77, 126, 133

DENOMINATIO

afnoeming, benaming

denomination, I/240

DENOMINATIO EXTRINSECA

uitwendige, uitterlijke afnoeming

extrinsic denomination, I/246, 250, II/26, 36, 124, 203, IV/29

DENOMINATIO INTRINSECA

innerlijke afnoeming

intrinsic denomination, II/85, 124, 216

DEPENDENTIA; DEPENDERE; DEPENDENS

afhangelijkheid; afhangen; afhangig, dependent

dependence; to depend; dependent, I/142, 144, 153, 154, 197, 241, 242, 253, 266, 274, II/27, 46, 70, IV/36, 131

DESCRIPTIO

beschrijving

description, I/233, 236, IV/43

DESIDERIUM; DESIDERARE

[PA: regret (usu.), désir (occ.)]

verlangen, begeerte; begeren

longing; to long for, desire, I/248, II/168, 170, 173, 199, 200, 248

DESPECTUS; DESPICERE

[PA 55: dédain; 149, 150: mépris]

verachting, ongeachtheid; versmaden

scorn; to scorn, II/160, 195, 196, 246, 265

DESPERATIO; DESPERARE

[PA 160: désespoir]

wanhoop; wanhopen

despair; to despair, II/155, 193, 246, 288

DESTRUCTIO; DESTRUERE

verderf, vernietiging; vernietigen

destruction; to destroy, I/275, 276, 278, II/87, 145, 146, 147, 148, 151, 155, 156, 161, 162, 170, 175, 176, 208, 210, 273, 281, 282, 283, 292, 295

DETERMINATIO; DETERMINARE; DETERMINATUS

bepaling (E, KV, Ep.), afpaling (PP: bepaling regularly corrected to afpaling in errata); bepalen; bepaald

determination (usu.), direction (usu. in PP); to determine; determined, determinate, I/132, 164, 171, 173, 174, 196, 204, 207, 208, 211, 212, 213, 214, 215, 216, 234, 242, 244, 261, 273, 274, 277, 278, 279, 280, 281, II/10, 26, 28, 30, 31, 34, 37, 38, 39, 46, 58, 61, 65, 66, 68, 69, 70, 72, 74, 77, 84, 85, 92, 93, 98, 99, 105, 111, 114, 115, 121, 129, 141, 143, 144, 146, 147, 163, 176, 180, 181, 185, 192, 203, 209, 225, 236, 249, 254, 273, 279, 283, 284, 288, 306, IV/9, 42, 47, 53, 55, 56, 57, 59, 60, 77, 129, 148

DEUS

God

God, I/145, 146, 147, 148, 149, 150, 155, 158, 159, 160, 165, 166, 167, 168, 169, 170, 171, 178, 179, 188, 191, 200, 201, 237, 241, 243, 246, 247, 248, 249, 250, 251, 253, 254, 256, 257, 258, 259, 263, 266, 267, 270, 271, 272, 273, 274, 276, II/20, 26, 34, 45, 49, 52, 53, 54, 56, 57, 58, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71, 73, 74, 75, 76, 77, 78, 80, 83, 84, 86, 87, 89, 90, 92, 93, 94, 127, 128, 135, 136, 140, 141, 206, 213, 228, 235, 267, 270, 271, 272, 273, 274, 276, 291, 292, 293, 295, 296, 299, 300, 302, 306, 308, IV/7, 8, 10, 11, 14, 36, 127, 128, 130, 131

DEUS DECEPTOR

bedrieger God

deceiving God, I/147, 172, II/26, 30

DEUS SEU (SIVE) NATURA

God of natuur

God or Nature, II/206, 213

DEVOTIO

[PA 83: dévotion]

verloving, overgeving

devotion, II/180, 193

DIABOLUS

duivel

devil, IV/129

DICTAMEN INTELLECTUS

gezeg van de verstand

dictate of the intellect, I/278

DICTAMEN RATIONIS

voorspelling, voorschrift van de reden

dictate of reason, II/188, 222, 223, 233, 235, 247, 250, 254, 257, 261, 264, 265, 283, 292

DIFFERENTIA

onderscheid, verscheidenheid

difference, I/203, IV/48

DISCORDIA

tweedracht

discord, II/241, 262, 271, 273

DISTINCTIO; DISTINGUERE; DISTINCTUS; DISTINCTE

onderscheid(ing); onderscheiden; onderscheiden; onderscheidelijk

distinction; to distinguish; distinct; distinctly, I/145, 237, 244, 257, 259, 266, II/17, 21, 28, 96, 97, 99, 100, 120, 121, 123, 181, 210, 211, 249, 285, IV/55

DISTINCTIO MODALIS

wijzige onderscheid

modal distinction, I/248, 257, 258, II/59

DISTINCTIO RATIONIS

onderscheid van reden

distinction of reason, I/248, 258, 259, 280, II/282

DISTINCTIO REALIS

zakelijke onderscheid

real distinction, I/146, 151, 248, 257, 258, II/33, 52, 59, IV/55

DISTINCTIO VERBIS

onderscheid door woorden

verbal distinction, I/248

DIVERSITAS; DIVERSUS

verscheidenheid; verscheiden

difference, diversity; different, I/245, II/12, 47, 48, 52, 74, 79, 90, 99, 117, 132, 175, 178, 230, IV/11, 41, 54

DIVINUS

goddelijk

divine, I/201, 239, 251, II/49, 53, 56, 57, 60, 61, 63, 64, 68, 81, 89, 93, 135, 137, 307, IV/132, 133

DIVISIO; DIVIDERE; DIVISIBILIS; DIVISIBILITAS

deeling; delen; deelbaar; deelbaarheid

division; to divide; divisible, divisibility, I/176, 181, 184, 190, 191, 192, 194, 199, 200, 201, 228, 229, 230, 235, 236, 237, 244, 249, 251, 257, 267, 274, 275, II/24, 55, 57, 58, 59, 60, IV/29, 53, 55, 56, 58, 61

DIVITIAE

rijkdom

wealth, II/5, 6, 7, 185, 202, 275, 289

DOCTRINA

lering

doctrine, instruction, II/9, 80, 131, 132, 135, 136

DOGMA

leerstuk

doctrine, maxim, I/129, 131, II/287, 288, IV/132

DOLOR

[PA 94: douleur]

treurigheid, pijn (KV)

pain (usu.), sorrow (rar.), I/142, 179, II/149, 191, 221, 242, 253

DOLUS MALUS

bedrog

deception, II/264

DUBITATIO; DUBITARE; DUBIUS; INDUBIE

twijfel, twijfeling; twijfelen, twijfelachtig; ontwijfelijk

doubt; to doubt; doubtful; without doubt, I/129, 141, 142, 143, 144, 145, 146, 147, 148, 149, 151, 160, 166, 173, 247, 248, II/10, 17, 19, 29, 30, 32, 50, 54, 105, 123, 124, 131, 134, 153, 154, 155, 194, IV/39, 40, 67

DURATIO; DURARE

during; duren

duration; to have duration, to endure, to last, I/202, 234, 244, 250, 251, 252, 269, 270, 271, 272, 273, 274, II/31, 39, 46, 65, 66, 67, 85, 91, 114, 115, 127, 147, 209, 257, 294, 295, 296, 298, 301, 302, IV/53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 60

DURITIES; DURUS

hardheid; hard

hardness; hard, I/184, 186, 187, 189, 225, II/82, 100, 102

EBRIETAS; EBRIUS

dronkenschap; dronke mensch

drunkenness; drunk, II/143, 185, 187, 202

EDUCATIO; EDUCARE

opvoeding; opvoeden

education; to educate, II/9, 183, 197, 203, 269, 272

EFFECTUS

gewrocht, uitwerksel (KV), uitwerking (KV)

effect, I/150, II/23, 32, 63, 70, 77, 80, 89, 96, 140, 196, 197, 198, 283, 283, IV/22, 77

ELASTICA PROPRIETAS

voortpassende eigenschap

elasticity, IV/6

ELECTIO

verkiezing

choice, I/256, 264

ELEMENTUM

beginsel

element, IV/74

ELEMENTA, PRIMA

eerste beginselen

first elements, II/28, 29

EMENDATIO; EMENDARE

verbetering; verbeteren (usu.), zuiveren

emendation; to emend, II/5, 9, 25, 26, IV/36

EMINENTER

uitstekendlijk

eminently, I/150, 155, 156, 157, 159, 160, 163, 237

EMPIRICI

empyrischen

empiricists, II/13

ENS; ENTITAS (RAR.)

wezen; wezenheid (E), wezigheid (PP)

being; Being, I/150, 154, 233, 236, 240, 243, 244, 245, 246, 247, 272, II/20, 21, 29, 36, 45, 52, 120, 121, 124, 129, 135, 207, IV/44, 45

ENS FICTUM

verzierd wezen

fictitious being, I/233, 236

ENS IMAGINATIONIS

wezen van inbeelding

being of imagination, II/83, IV/57

ENS METAPHYSICUM

overnatuurkundig wezen

metaphysical being, II/129

ENS PERFECTISSIMUM, SUMME PERFECTUM

’t aldervolmaakst, volmaakst wezen

the most perfect being, I/145, 154, 155, 164, 165, 166, 171, 177, 178, 253, 254, 256, 257, 261, 272, II/16, 19, 53, 54, 58, 74, IV/7, 8

ENS PHYSICUM ET REALE

natuurlijk en zakelijk wezen

physical and real being, II/35, 36

ENS RATIONIS

wezen van reden

being of reason, I/233, 234, 235, 236, 244, 245, 262, II/35, 83, 135, IV/58

ENS REALE

zakelijk wezen (usu.), dadelijk wezen (KV)

real being, I/233, 234, 235, 236, 237, II/36, 135, 299, IV/58

ERROR; ERRARE

doling; dolen

error; to err, I/141, 146, 172, 173, 174, 175, 176, 235, 278, II/9, 11, 13, 21, 24, 27, 33, 106, 116, 128, 129, 131, 134, 211, IV/8, 9, 67, 147

ESSE (USED AS NOUN); ESSE (USED AS VERB)

zijn (PP, CM, E I and occ. II), wezen (TdIE, Ep., and E—usu. in E II, consistent in E III and IV)

being; to be (usu.); to exist (occ), I/143, 151, 153, 154, 165, 167, 197, 238, 247, 248, 249, 250, 256, 269, II/7, 29, 35, 37, 46, 51, 52, 67, 84, 92, 93, 146, 147, 186, 188, 221, 222, 225, 227, 235, 308, IV/36, 45, 55

ESSE ACTUALE

dadelijk wezen

actual being, II/94

ESSE (EXISTERE) A SE

van zich (wezenlich) zijn

to be (exist) of itself, I/168, 169, 238, 239, 258, 261

ESSE ESSENTIAE

’t zijn na wezenheid

the being of essence, I/237, 238, 239

ESSE EXISTENTIAE

’t zijn na wezenlijkheid

the being of existence, I/237, 238

ESSE FORMALE

vormelijk wezen

formal being, II/88, 89, 90, 103

ESSE IDEAE

’t zijn na ’t denkbeeld

the being of idea, I/237, 238

ESSE IN ALIO

in een ander zijn, in iets anders zijn

to be in another, I/238, II/45, 46, 47, 50, 66, IV/13

ESSE IN DEO

in God zijn

to be in God, II/56, 66, 71, 299

ESSE IN SE

in zich zijn

to be in itself, I/246, II/34, 45, 46, 47, 50, 71, 90, 125, 146, 265, IV/28, 33, 40, 43, 46, 56

ESSE OBJECTIVUM

voorwerpig, voorwerpelijk wezen

objective being, II/91, 130

ESSE POTENTIAE

’t zijn na ’t vermogen

the being of power, I/237, 238

ESSENTIA

wezenheid

essence, I/20, 132, 144, 145, 157, 163, 165, 170, 171, 183, 203, 235, 237, 238, 239, 240, 241, 242, 243, 249, 250, 251, 252, 255, 260, 261, 262, 269, 277, 278, II/10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 20, 22, 23, 25, 26, 33, 34, 35, 36, 45, 46, 47, 50, 60, 63, 64, 67, 68, 74, 79, 84, 93, 94, 118, 122, 127, 130, 145, 185, 190, 192, 204, 208, 209, 227, 281, 286, 295, 296, 298, 302, 303, IV/17, 42, 43, 47, 53, 54, 65, 77, 78

ESSENTIA ACTUALIS

dadelijke wezenheid

actual essence, II/146, 213

ESSENTIA ACTUOSA

werkelijke wezenheid

active essence, I/275, II/87

ESSENTIA DEI, NATURA DEI (DIVINA)

Gods wezenheid, Gods (goddelijke) natuur

God’s essence, God’s nature, the divine nature, I/177, 178, 188, 238, 239, 240, 250, 251, 252, 253, 255, 264, II/60, 61, 64, 70, 73, 74, 75, 76, 77, 93, 127, 128, 135, 244, 275, 295, 298, 299, 303

ESSENTIA FORMALIS

vormlijke wezenheid

formal essence, I/238, 239, II/14, 15, 16, 17, 63, 90, 122

ESSENTIA IDEALIS

denkbeeldige wezenheid

ideal essence, IV/77

ESSENTIA INTIMA

innerlijke wezenheid/interna essentia(m)

inmost essence, II/34, 36

ESSENTIA OBJECTIVA

voorwerpige wezenheid

objective essence, II/14, 15, 36

ESSENTIA PARTICULARIS AFFIRMATIVA

bijzondere bevestiglijke wezenheid

particular affirmative essence, II/34, 36

ESSENTIA PECULIARIS

bijzondere wezenheid

its own essence, II/14

ESSENTIA UNIVERSALIS

algemene wezenheid

universal essence, I/203

ETHICA

Zedenkunst

Ethics, IV/151, 156, 160

EXCESSUM HABERE

overmaat hebben

to be excessive, II/241, 242, 243, 256

EVIDENS; EVIDENTER

klaar, blijkelijk, klaarblijkelijk; klaar(lijk), klaarblijkelijk

evident; evidently, I/145, 146, 153, 241, 244, 263, 265, 269, 276, IV/45

EXEMPLAR

afbeeldsel (TdIE), (schets en) voorbeeld (E)

likeness (TdIE), model (E), II/17, 76, 206, 208

EXISTENTIA; EXISTERE

wezenlijkheid; wezenlijk zijn/wezen (usu.), zijn (occ.), wezen (occ.), bestaan (KV?), existeren (KV. rar.)

existence; to exist, I/20, 143, 150, 151, 153, 155, 157, 158, 164, 165, 166, 169, 176, 178, 181, 233, 235, 236, 237, 238, 239, 240, 241, 242, 243, 250, 251, 254, 256, 257, 258, 263, 264, 268, 269, II/12, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 25, 34, 36, 37, 45, 46, 47, 50, 51, 53, 54, 63, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 69, 74, 77, 83, 85, 90, 91, 92, 94, 96, 104, 106, 108, 112, 127, 146, 147, 155, 173, 203, 207, 209, 212, 214, 218, 224, 225, 227, 237, 257, 268, 294, 295, 296, 298, 299, 303, IV/10, 13, 45, 47, 54, 55

EXISTENTIA DEI

Gods wezenlijkheid

God’s existence, I/155, 238, 249, 250, 252, II/52, 53, 54, IV/10, 13, 61

EXISTENTIA NECESSARIA

noodzakelijke wezenlijkheid

necessary existence, I/155, 157, 158, 164, 165, 166, 168, 169, 170, 233, 236, 240, 242, 243, 256, II/25, 46, 51, 53, 61, 66, 67, 85, 93, 206, 217, 231, 299, IV/60, 62

EXISTERE PER SE

door zich wezenlijk zijn

exist through itself, I/177, 258, 273

EXISTIMATIO; EXISTIMARE

[PA 149: estime]

achting; achten

overestimation; to overesteem, II/160, 195, 196, 197, 246

EXPERIENTIA; EXPERIRI

ervarenheid, ondervinding, bevinding; bevinden, ondervinden

experience; to know (find) by experience, test, I/182, 262, 279, II/5, 12, 13, 14, 23, 30, 79, 105, 132, 141, 142, 143, 165, 197, 234, 240, 273, 277, 285, 296, IV/26, 32, 47, 77

EXPERIENTIA QUOTIDIANA

dagelijks ervarenheid

daily experience, I/175, II/234, IV/66

EXPERIENTIA VAGA

losse ervarenheid (TdIE), zwervende of losse ondervinding (E)

random experience, II/10, 28, 122, 287

EXPERIMENTUM; EXPERIRI

ondervinding; ondervinden

experiment; to experiment, II/10, 37, IV/16, 21, 24, 25, 29, 32, 34, 37, 49, 50, 66, 67, 68, 70, 71, 74, 75, 131, 132, 158

EXPLICATIO; EXPLICARE

verklaring; verklaren

explanation; to explain, I/127, 233, 234, II/19, 34, 35, 46, 56, 64, 83, 88, 90, 94, 95, 123, 141, 213, 239, IV/17, 19, 21, 26, 28, 33, 42, 43, 50, 51, 53, 57, 64, 65

EXPRIMERE

uitdrukken

to express, I/149, 241, 263, 270, II/10, 33, 35, 39, 45, 50, 52, 56, 60, 64, 67, 68, 71, 72, 77, 84, 85, 86, 88, 93, 114, 146, 183, 294, 295, IV/132

EXPURGARE

zuiveren

to purify, II/9

EXTENSIO; EXTENSUS

uitstrekking (usu.), uitgestrektheid (occ.), uitgebreidheid (KV); uitgestrekt

extension; extended, I/132, 150, 168, 181, 184, 185, 187, 188, 191, 192, 237, 250, 257, 258, II/33, 56, 86, 90, 96, 109, 144, 190, IV/5, 6, 7, 13, 14

FABRICA (CORPORIS HUMANI)

gebou [E], maakskel [CM] (van ’t menselijke lichaam)

structure (of the human body), I/276, II/81, 142, 143

FACILE

lichtelijk

easily, I/161, 162, II/12, 54, 178

FACINUS

daad, werk

action, IV/147

FACTUM

daad

deed, I/246, II/183, 197, 234, 252, 253, 272

FACULTAS

vermogen (usu.), macht (occ), bekwaamheid (rar.)

faculty, I/132, 145, 171, 174, 176, II/129, 130, 132, 133, 134, 271

FALSITAS; FALSUS

valsheid; vals

falsity; false, I/145, 171, 173, 196, 228, 235, 246, 247, II/19, 23, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 32, 33, 40, 63, 116, 117, 122, 123, 124, 131, 135, 211, 272, 273, IV/40, 43

FAMA

gerucht

reputation

II/253

FASTIDIUM

walging

disgust, II/120, 189

FATUM

noodlot

fate, II/17, 76, 189, IV/38

FAVOR; FAVERE

[PA 192: faveur]

gunst; gunstigen

favor; to favor, II/157, 195, 248, IV/150

FELICITAS; FELIX

geluk, gelukzaligheid; gelukkig

happiness; happy, II/5, 7, 8, 135, 136, 170, 196, 222, 267, 305

FICTIO (TDIE, EP), FIGMENTUM (PP, CM, E), FICTITIA; FINGERE; FICTUS

verdichtsel, verdichting, versiersel, versiering (KV?); verdichten, dichten; verdicht, versiert

fiction; to feign; fictitious, I/132, 143, 147, 179, 220, 221, 222, 227, 233, 236, 259, 280, II/19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 32, 40, 49, 57, 80, 94, 132, 133, IV/8, 13, 45

FIDES; FIDELIS, FIDUS

getrouwheid; getrouw

honesty, trust, reliability; honest, faithful, II/223, 238, 264, 270, IV/34, 36

FIGURA

gestalte, gedaante (KV)

shape, figure, I/150, 184, II/57, 79, 100, 106, IV/12, 25, 28, 30, 74

FILIUS DEI

Gods Zoon

the son of God, I/271

FINIS

eind

end, purpose, limit, I/181, 184, 191, 234, 252, 268, II/6, 8, 9, 10, 18, 78, 79, 80, 205, 206, 207, 208, 210, 249, 267, IV/32, 53, 127, 129

FINIS ASSIMILATIONIS

eind van weldadigheid

end of assimilation, II/80

FINIS INDIGENTIAE

eind van ontbreking

end of need, II/80

FINITUS

eindig, eindelijk (KV)

finite, I/174, 190, 253, II/33, 45, 49, 53, 56, 57, 58, 59, 69, 71, 72, 85, 132, 147, 213, IV/55, 56, 61

FINITUS IN SUO GENERE

eindig in zijn geslacht

finite in its own kind, II/45

FIRMITUDO, FIRMITAS; FIRMARE

vastigheid; bevestigen

solidity; to maintain, II/238, IV/14, 34, 35, 36, 51, 158

FIXUS

vast

fixed, IV/16, 17, 19, 22, 23, 51, 64

FLUCTUATIO (ANIMI, IMAGINATIONIS); FLUCTUARI

[PA 170: irrésolution]

vlotheid, wankelheid (van gemoeds, van inbeelding); vlotten

vacillation (of mind, of imagination); to vacillate, II/126, 153, 154, 164, 178, 184, 185, 202, 205, 281, 288

FLUIDITAS; FLUIDUS

vloedigheid; vloedig

fluidity; fluid, I/131, 220, 225, II/100, 102, 103, 105, IV/9, 14, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 51, 158

FORMA

vorm (usu.), gestalte en schroomheid (occ.)

form (usu.), external appearance (occ), I/149, 175, 228, 261, II/26, 27, 31, 38, 49, 92, 93, 100, 101, 102, 109, 116, 117, 138, 204, 208, 224, 239, 240, 271, 272, 273, IV/12, 74, 147

FORMA SUBSTANTIALIS

zelfstandige vorm

substantial form, I/249, IV/48, 64

FORMALITAS (RAR.); FORMALITER

vormelijkheid; vormelijk

formal character; formally, I/150, 155, 157, 159, 160, 163, 237, II/14, 32, 34, 38, 89, IV/14, 49

FORTITUDO; FORTIS; FORTIS ESSE

vroomheid (usu.), kloekmoedigheid, moed (KV?); vroom; kraftig zijn

strength of character; strong, strong in character; to have force, I/212, 213, 214, 215, 218, 219, II/184, 188, 210, 212, 214, 215, 216, 262, 265, 288, 307, IV/76

FORTUNA; FORTUITUS

geval; gevallig

fortune, luck; fortuitous, II/32, 34, 114, 136, 205, 245, 246, 288, 307, IV/76, 158

FRIGUS; FRIGIDUS

koude; koud

cold; cold, II/81, IV/23, 28, 158

FUNCTIO

doening, ambt en bediening

function, I/277, II/142

FUNDAMENTUM

grondvest

foundation, I/127, 128, 131, 132, 141, 142, 143, 144, 153, 154, 159, 236, II/33, 38, 54, 78, 80, 120, 126, 222, 223, 225, 226, 227, 236, 251, 294, 306, IV/149, 151

FUTURUS

toekomend (usu.), aanstaande

future, I/252, 266, 273, II/125, 126, 154, 170, 194, 198, 210, 216, 217, 218, 220, 256, 257, 275, IV/77

GAUDIUM; GAUDERE

[PA 61: joie]

vreugd; vermaak scheppen in, zich verheugen over

gladness; to be glad at, of, enjoy, II/155, 158, 165, 187, 195, 246, 289, 302

GENERATIO; GENERARE

voortteling, voortbrenging, gelijklijkteling; voorttelen, genereren (KV)

generation; to generate, I/162, 170, 226, 255, 268, 275, 276, II/60, IV/14

GENEROSITAS; GENEROSUS

[PA 153-156, 161: générosité]

edelmoedigheid; edelmoedig

nobility; noble, II/188, 203, 245, 251, 265, 269, 287, 288, 306, 307

GENUS

geslacht

genus, kind, I/234, II/31, 37, 45, 46, 50, 60, 70, 207, 210, IV/7, 8, 13, 42

GENERA, SUMMA

opperste geslachten

chief kinds, I/250, IV/28

GENUS GENERALISSIMUM

algemeenst geslacht

most general genus, II/207

GLANDULA PINEALIS

pijnappelklier

pineal gland, II/278, 279, 280

GLORIA; GLORIARI; GLORIOSUS

[PA 204: gloire]

roem, roemzucht, heerlijkheid (rar.); roemen; roemrijk

esteem, love of esteem, glory (rar.); to exult at being esteemed (usu.), to pride o.s. (occ); one who exults at being esteemed, II/7, 8, 163, 164, 166, 170, 172, 173, 181, 185, 197, 199, 202, 243, 246, 249, 252, 253, 288, 303

GRADUS

trap

degree, I/154, 156, 164, 175, 182, 185, 261, II/83, 96, 100, 121, 142, 280, IV/131, 149

GRATIA (SEU GRATITUDO); CONGRATULARI; GRATUS

[PA 193: reconnaissance]

dankbewijs (of dankbarheid), dank; dank te bewijzen; dankbaar

thankfulness (or gratitude); to return thanks; thankful, II/172, 200, 263, 264, 271

HABITUS

hebbelijkheid, gewoonte en gebruik

habitual disposition, habit, II/195, 279

HAERETICUS

ketter

heretic, II/81

HARMONIA

aangename klank

harmony, II/82

HEBRAEUS

Hebreeër

Hebrew, II/90

HILARITAS

[PA 210: allégresse]

vrolijkheid

cheerfulness, II/149, 191, 241, 243, IV/127

HETEROGENEUS

anderslachtig

heterogeneous, IV/16

HISTORIA

verhaal, historie

history, story, I/226, 246, II/261, IV/12, 34, 158

HOMO; HUMANUS; INHUMANUS

mens; menselijk; onmenselijk

man; human; inhuman, I/156, 159, 176, 226, 235, 243, 255, 258, 259, 260, 267, 269, 273, II/5, 6, 8, 11, 57, 63, 78, 85, 92, 93, 96, 119, 121, 128, 137, 143, 147, 163, 165, 172, 176, 177, 178, 179, 181, 187, 190, 198, 205, 206, 207, 208, 210, 212, 213, 214, 221, 222, 223, 224, 228, 229, 230, 231, 232, 233, 234, 235, 237, 238, 240, 247, 250, 252, 253, 260, 261, 266, 267, 268, 269, 270, 271, 273, 274, IV/14

HOMO LIBER

vrij mens

free man, II/260, 261, 262, 263, 264, 265

HONESTAS; HONESTUS

eerbarheid; eerlijk

being honorable; honorable, II/197, 200, 223, 236, 263, 270, 272

HONOR

eer

honor, II/5, 6, 7, 79, 183, 288

HORROR; HORRENDUS

afschuwelijkheid; schrikkelijk

dread; dreadful, II/180, 265

HUMANITAS

heusheid, menselijkheid

human kindness, humanity, I/132, II/162, 202, IV/9

HUMILITAS; HUMILIS

[PA 155, 159: humilité]

nederigheid; nederig

humility; humble, II/182, 196, 198, 199, 249, 250

HYPOTHESIS

onderstelling

hypothesis, I/217, 227, 228, 229, II/19, 22, 279, IV/49, 50, 51, 65

IDEA; IDEALITER

denkbeeld, idee (KV); denkbeeldelijk

idea; ideally, I/16, 17, 132, 149, 150, 153, 155, 156, 157, 160, 234, 237, 238, 246, 247, II/13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 36, 38, 39, 40, 47, 50, 71, 84, 85, 88, 89, 90, 91, 92, 94, 95, 96, 97, 103, 105, 106, 107, 108, 109, 110, 111, 112, 113, 115, 116, 117, 118, 119, 120, 121, 122, 123, 124, 127, 130, 131, 132, 133, 134, 135, 140, 148, 150, 163, 179, 181, 182, 187, 194, 195, 203, 204, 206, 211, 215, 259, 261, 281, 282, 287, 295, 298, 299, IV/13, 40, 45, 77, 78

IDEA COMPOSITA

denkbeeld uit vele denkbeelden te zamengezet

composite idea, II/103

IDEA DEI (OBJ. GEN.)

denkbeeld van God

idea of God (usu.), I/15, 16, 17, 18, 147, 148, 149, 159, 160, 249, II/30, 262, 290, 291, 300, 305

IDEA DEI (SUBJ. GEN.)

denkbeeld uit vele denkbeelden te za-

God’s idea (usu.), I/238, 263, 264, II/65, 66, 87, 88, 89, 90, 91

IDEA IDEAE

het denkbeeld van het (een) denkbeeld

the idea of the (an) idea, II/15, 109, 110, 113, 114, 123

IDEA SIMPLEX, SIMPLICISSIMA

enkel (eenvoudig), zeer enkel denkbeeld

simple, most simple idea, I/142, 146, II/26, 27, 32, 103

IDEATUM

a) gedenkbeelde, b) gedenkbeelde of gedachte zaak, c) gedachte zaak, d) de zaak daar af het een denkbeeld is, e) voorwerp (m: objectum), f) [voorwerp (m: objectum) of] gedachte zaak, g) ideatum

object, I/16(g), 234(a), 235(a), 246(a), 247(a), II/14(a), 16(b), 47(c), 71(d), 85(a), 88(e), 116(f), 124(f)

IGNIS

vuur

fire, IV/20, 21, 27, 49

IGNORANTIA; IGNORARE; IGNARUS

onwetenheid; onkundig van … zijn, niet weten; onkundig

ignorance; to be ignorant of; ignorant, II/49, 74, 78, 79, 81, 117, 132, 142, 143, 207, 262, 263, 277, 284, 308

IMAGINATIO; IMAGO; IMAGINARI; IMAGINARIA

inbeelding (E, TdIE, Ep.), verbeelding (PP, Ep.); beeld; zich inbeelden (E, TdIE, Ep.), zich verbeelden (PP, CM, Ep.); inbeeldig

imagination; image, appearance (rar.); to imagine; imaginary, I/145, 149, 153, 156, 157, 160, 173, 191, 192, 233, 234, 241, II/11, 21, 22, 28, 31, 32, 33, 39, 59, 81, 82, 83, 106, 107, 112, 117, 120, 121, 122, 125, 126, 128, 130, 131, 132, 133, 134, 142, 144, 149, 150, 151, 153, 154, 155, 156, 163, 165, 180, 184, 191, 198, 210, 211, 212, 216, 217, 218, 255, 257, 281, 284, 285, 288, 289, 290, 294, 301, 302, 305, 306, IV/33, 53, 56, 57, 58, 76, 77, 78, 128, 131

IMITATIO (AFFECTUUM); IMITARI

navolging (van hartstochten); navolgen

imitation (of affects); to imitate, II/160, 165, 177, 200, 262, 269

IMMEDIATUS; IMMEDIATE

onmiddelijk (usu.), immediatelijk; immediate

immediate; immediately, I/149, 181, 183, 184, 196, 234, II/67, 70, 80

IMMENSITAS

onmetelijkheid

immensity, I/253, 254, 255

IMMORTALITAS; IMMORTALIS

onsterfelijkheid; onsterfelijk

immortality; immortal, I/275, 276, 277, II/128, 307

IMMUTABILITAS; IMMUTABILIS

onveranderlijkheid; onveranderlijk

immutability; immutable, I/178, 243, 252, 255, 256, 257, 266, 267, 276, II/22, 65, 66, 75, 93, 294, IV/127

IMPERFECTIO

See perfectio

IMPERIUM; IMPERARE

heerschappij (usu.), gebied (occ); gebieden

dominion (usu.), command (occ); to command, II/137, 138, 142, 269, 270, 277, 279

IMPETUS

stoot, drift

impetus, impulse, I/207, II/190, IV/19

IMPIETAS

See pietas

IMPLICANTIA; (CONTRADICTIONEM) IMPLICARE

tegenzeglijkheid (usu.), strijdigheid, ingewikkeldheid (Ep.); tegenzeglijkheid (strijdigheid) inwikkeln (insluiten), strijdig (tegenzeglijk) zijn

contradiction; to involve (imply) a contradiction, I/162, 174, 193, 227, 228, 240, 242, 251, 275, II/19, 20, 56, IV/53

IMPOSSIBILIS

onmogelijk

impossible, I/162, 240, 241, 242, 266, II/19, 20, 21, 74, IV/39

IMPRESSIO

indrukking

impression, II/31, 139

IMPUDENTIA; IMPUDENS

onbeschaamdheid; onbeschaamd

shamelessness; shameless, II/199, 254

IMPULSIO

drijving

pressure, IV/34

IMPULSUS; IMPELLERE

voortsturving (usu.), beweging (rar.); voortdrijven

impulse, I/94, 183, 185, 209, 219, 220, 221, IV/26, 27

INCONSTANTIA; INCONSTANS

onstandvastigheid, ongestadigheid, wispelturigheid; onbestendig, onstandvastig

inconstancy; inconstant, I/243, II/75, 137, 155, 179, 194, 222, 231, 238, 253, 288, 289

INDEFINITUS

onbepaald

indefinite, I/181, 191, 199, 200, 228, II/85, 147, IV/58?, 61

INDIFFERENS

onverschillig (usu.), middelmatig (rar.)

indifferent, I/174, 175, 277, 279, II/62, 76, 208

INDIGNATIO; INDIGNARI

euvelneming; zich kanten tegen

indignation; to be indignant at, II/157, 195, 248, 265, 272

INDIVIDUUM

[ = singulare II/85]

ondelig, ondeelbar (KV)

individual, II/8, 50, 51, 85, 86, 94, 96, 99, 100, 101, 102, 109, 111, 112, 134, 186, 187, 207, 223, 266, 268

INFANS

kind

infant, II/143, 240, 285, 305

INFINITAS; INFINITUS

oneindigheid; oneindig

infinity; infinite, I/173, 174, 178, 184, 190, 192, 193, 194, 195, 205, 206, 244, 249, 251, 252, 253, 254, 271, 272, 273, 280, II/7, 13, 34, 36, 39, 49, 52, 57, 58, 59, 60, 62, 65, 66, 67, 69, 71, 72, 77, 87, 88, 90, 91, 102, 109, 121, 127, 132, 133, 134, 206, 302, IV/7, 29, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 58, 59, 61, 62

INFINITUS, ABSOLUTE

volstrektelijk oneindig

absolutely infinite, I/253, II/45, 46, 52, 53, 54, 55, 60, 228, 302, IV/8, 13, 41, 45

INFINITUS IN SUO GENERE

in zijn geslacht eindig

infinite in its own kind, II/46, 60, IV/7, 13

INFINITUM, PROGRESSUS (INQUISITIO) IN

voortgang (onderzoek) tot in ’t oneindig

infinite regress, I/157, 248, 255, II/13, 17, IV/32, 62

INFLAMMABILITAS; INFLAMMABILIS

branding; in brand gesteken kunnen woorden

inflammability; inflammable, IV/19, 20, 23, 49, 66

INGENIUM

verstand, vernuft

temperament, cleverness, genius, understanding, natural disposition, native ability, I/162, 240, II/78, 79, 80, 138, 164, 236, 237, 260, 263, 269, 307, IV/8, 37, 42, 51, 158

INGRATITUDO

[PA 193: ingratitude]

ondankbarheid

ingratitude, II/264

INHAERERE

in zijn

to inhere in, IV/61

INJURIA; INJUSTUS

ongelijk; ongerechtig

(a) wrong; unjust, II/79, 237, 238, 244, 245, 248, 265, 270, 288, 294

INNATUS

ingeboren

innate, inborn, II/13, 14, 15, 16, 38, 79, 190

INSANUS; INSANIRE

onzinnig; buiten wetten zijn

madman; to be insane, II/243, 252

INSTITUTUM

ooggemerk, gewoonte

goal, purpose, plan, II/5, 6, 7, 145, 189, 245

INTELLECTUS; INTELLECTIO; INTELLIGENTIA; INTELLIGERE; INTELLECTUALIS; INTELLIGIBILIS

verstand; verstaning; verstand, verstaning, kennis; verstaan; verstandelijk; verstandelijk

intellect; intellection; understanding; to understand; intellectual; intelligible, I/132, 133, 141, 142, 145, 146, 149, 162, 167, 168, 172, 173, 174, 175, 176, 177, 186, 190, 191, 192, 193, 194, 195, 196, 253, 259, 267, 274, 277, II/8, 9, 10, 14, 15, 20, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 45, 59, 62, 63, 71, 72, 73, 81, 82, 83, 97, 107, 122, 124, 129, 131, 132, 133, 134, 162, 188, 220, 223, 225, 227, 249, 267, 276, 277, 280, 283, 284, 287, 290, 296, 297, 298, 300, 304, 305, 306, 308, IV/8, 9, 36, 40, 43, 46, 51, 53, 56, 57, 70, 77, 126, 127, 129, 130, 132, 146, 162

INTELLECTUS ACTU

het dadelijke (in daad) verstand

the actual intellect, II/71, 72, 75

INTELLECTUS (INTELLIGENTIA, INTELLECTIO) DEI (DIVINA)

Gods (het goddelijke) verstand (verstaning)

God’s (the divine) intellect (understanding, intellection), I/167, 168, 171, 177, 238, 257, 260, 261, 262, 263, 264, II/27, 62, 63, 71, 73, 75, 90, 94, 120, 306, IV/129, 130, 131, 132

INTELLECTUS INFINITUS

oneindig verstand

infinite intellect, I/264, II/60, 71, 83, 88, 90, 94, 125, 306, IV/45

INTELLECTUS PRACTICUS

oefenig verstand

practical intellect, I/279

INTELLECTUS PURUS

zuiver verstand

pure intellect, I/173, II/33, IV/131

INTREPIDUS

onversaagd

intrepid, II/179

INTUITUS; INTUERI; INTUITIVUS; INTUITIVE

aanschou, opzicht; aanschouwen; zienig; inzieniglijk

intuition, glance; to look at, consider; intuitive; intuitively, I/190, II/5, 11, 12, 117, 122, 206, 208, 211, 278, 303

INVIDIA; INVIDERE; INVIDUS

[PA 182: envie]

nijd, wangunst (KV?); benijden; nijdig

envy; to envy; envious, II/7, 136, 138, 158, 165, 166, 167, 170, 180, 183, 196, 199, 200, 234, 244, 252, 265, 269, 273, 275, 292, IV/42

IRA; IRASCI

[PA 199: colère]

gramschap, toorn; toornig op … zijn

anger; to be angry at, I/264, II/136, 138, 172, 200, 201, 244, 245, 264, 265, 288

IRRISIO; IRRIDERE

[PA 178: moquerie]

bespotting; bespotten

mockery; to mock, II/136, 181, 193, 244, 247?, 265

JOCUS

jok of boerterij

joking, II/244

JUCUNDUS

aangenaam

pleasant, II/200

JUDEX

rechter

judge, I/249, II/259, IV/127, 131

JUDICIUM; JUDICARE

oordeel; oordelen

judgment; to judge, II/82, 170, 179, 223, 233, 237, 263, 268, 279, 280

JUDICIUM SUSPENDERE

oordeel te schorsen

to suspend judgment, II/132, 134, IV/131, 132

JUS; JUSTITIA; JUSTUS

recht; gerechtigheid; gerechtig

(a) right, law; justice; just, II/87, 88, 159, 160, 171, 172, 178, 195, 196, 197, 198, 205, 223, 237, 238, 246, 251, 264, 265, 270, 272, 288, 294, 307

JUS NATURAE, NATURALE

recht der natuur

right of nature, II/237, 238, 268

LAETITIA; LAETARI; LAETUS

[PA 91: joie]

blijdschap; zich verblijden; blij

joy; to rejoice; joyous, I/223, II/5, 6, 7, 40, 149, 151, 152, 153, 154, 155, 156, 157, 158, 159, 160, 161, 162, 163, 166, 170, 175, 181, 182, 184, 186, 187, 188, 191, 197, 204, 215, 221, 223, 241, 244, 247, 251, 254, 256, 275, 288, 291, 292, 297, 300, 301, 303, IV/127

LAETARI, BENE AGERE ET

wel te doen en vrolijk te wezen

to act well and rejoice, II/247, 265

LARGITIO

mildheid

generosity, II/271

LAUS; LAUDARE

[PA 157, 206: louange]

lof; prijzen

praise; to praise, II/78, 81, 163, 182, 197, 236, 237, 249

LEX CIVITATIS

wet van de staat

law of the state, II/238, 272

LEX DEI NATURAE

wet van Gods natuur

law of God’s nature, II/60, 61, 83

LEX DIVINA

goddelijke wet

divine law, II/307

LEX NATURAE

wet van de natuur

law of nature, I/132, 228, 241, 248, 267, 276, 277, II/8, 23, 32, 137, 138, 142, 143, 144, 238, 247, 252, 267, IV/28, 34, 67

LEX NOSTRAE NATURAE

wet van onze natuur

law of our nature, II/169, 210, 212, 222, 223, 233

LIBERI

kinderen

children, II/272

LIBERTAS; LIBERARE; LIBERUS; LIBERE

vrijheid (usu.), vrijwilligheid (rar.); verlossen (en ontslaan); vrij, vrijwillig; vrij(lijk), vrijwilliglijk

freedom; to free; free; freely, I/132, 146, 173, 174, 175, 176, 233, 238, 243, 244, 265, 266, 267, 271, 272, 274, 277, 278, II/23, 32, 46, 62, 73, 74, 78, 79, 81, 106, 117, 129, 133, 134, 136, 143, 144, 161, 176, 177, 179, 192, 197, 250, 271, 272, 277, 280, 284, 289, 303, 307, 308, IV/9, 26, 66, 70, 129, 130, 133

LIBIDO; LIBIDINOSUS

wellust, geilheid, lust, onkuisheid; onkuis

lust (always in E), sensual pleasure (usu. in TdIE); lustful, II/6, 7, 8, 185, 187, 202, 203, 221, 243, 253, 264, 270, 271, 307, 308, IV/128

LIQUOR

vocht

fluid, IV/30, 31, 32

LIMES; LIMITARE

paal; bepalen

limit; to limit, I/132, 146, 173, 174, 178, II/66, 134, 210, 212

LINGUA

taal

language, I/246

LITERA

letter

letter, IV/132

LOCUS

plaats

place, I/182, 192, 193, 194, 195, 196, 197, 198, II/298, 304, IV/11

LOGICA

redekunst

logic, I/130, 233, II/277

LUMEN NATURALE (NATURAE), LUX NATURAE; LUMEN NATURALIS INTELLECTUS

natuurlijk licht, het licht der natuur; licht van het natuurlijke verstand

natural light, light of the natural intellect, I/156, 265, 275, 276, IV/10, 126

LUXURIA

overdaad, brasserij

gluttony, II/185, 202, 203, 210

MAGNITUDO; MAGNUS

grootheid; groot

size; large, I/184, 186, 189, 212, 216, IV/49, 59

MALI, SUB RATIONE

als ’t kwaad

as bad, I/278

MALITIA

boosheid

malice, I/171

MALUS

kwaad

bad (freq.), evil (freq.), ill-fortune (occ), misfortune (occ), I/235, 247, 248, 249, 262, 264, 278, 279, II/5, 7, 8, 78, 81, 82, 83, 158, 169, 170, 171, 172, 179, 195, 196, 205, 208, 209, 215, 220, 221, 223, 227, 228, 229, 230, 233, 237, 238, 239, 241, 252, 254, 255, 257, 258, 259, 261, 265, 266, 267, 268, 270, 275, 276, 286, 304, 305, IV/129, 130

MATERIA

stof

matter (usu.), material (occ), I/162, 180, 181, 184, 185, 187, 189, 191, 192, 193, 194, 195, 196, 199, 200, 228, 229, 230, 238, 244, 257, 259, 261, 262, 268, 269, 270, 274, II/59, 60, 83, 102, IV/21, 22, 28, 59, 60, 74

MATERIALITER

stoffelijk

materially, IV/49

MATERIA PRIMA

eerste stof

prime matter, I/280, IV/74

MATERIA SUBTILIS, SUBTILISSIMA

(zeer) fijne stof

(very) fine matter, IV/18, 26, 49, 65, 66, 67

MATHEMATICA, MATHESIS; MATHEMATICI MATHEMATICE

wiskunde; wiskundigen, wiskundig

mathematics; mathematicians; mathematically, I/127, 128, 129, 141, 142, 143, 149, 184, 227, 266, II/12, 79, 83, 128, IV/25, 59, 75, 133

MATRIMONIUM

huwelijk

marriage, II/271

MECHANICA; MECHANICUS

werkdaad; werkdadig (Ep.), tuigwerklijk (CM)

mechanics; mechanical, I/259, II/9, 81, IV/12, 25, 50, 67, 158

MEDICINA

geneeskunde

medicine, II/9, 277

MEDITATIO

overdenking

meditation, II/17

MEDIUM

middel

means, II/8, 9, 78, 208

MELANCHOLIA; MELANCHOLICUS

naargeestigheid; naargeestig

melancholy; melancholic, II/149, 191, 208, 241, 244

MEMORIA; MEMINISSE

geheugnis; bedenken

memory; to remember, I/144, 147, 233, 234, II/21, 22, 31, 33, 106, 143, 144, 176, 199, 200, 217, 219, 287, 296, 302, 305, IV/78

MENS

ziel (usu. in E, Ep., PP, CM), geest (usu. in TdIE)

mind, I/132, 150, 151, 152, 153, 167, 173, 234, 235, 236, 260, 275, 276, 277, 278, 279, 280, 281, II/6, 8, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 23, 24, 29, 32, 34, 36, 37, 105, 106, 107, 109, 117, 119, 129, 137, 145, 147, 149, 150, 151, 181, 182, 187, 188, 204, 215, 223, 227, 228, 235, 266, 267, 277, 278, 279, 280, 286, 290, 293, 294, IV/8, 9, 10, 47, 77, 129, 130

MENS HUMANA

menselijke ziel

human mind, I/250, 262, 275, II/84, 94, 95, 96, 97, 103, 104, 105, 106, 107, 108, 109, 110, 111, 112, 113, 114, 118, 119, 120, 121, 125, 128, 136, 137, 138, 140, 141, 142, 143, 144, 145, 239, 240, 245, 273, 274, 295, 296, 297, 298, 299, 300, 301, 302, 303, 304, 305, 306, 307, IV/8, 9

MENTIS, POTENTIA (SIVE CONATUS)

macht (of poging) van de ziel

power (or striving) of the mind, II/146, 182, 186, 188, 203, 246, 284, 285, 286, 287, 293, 296, 298, 308

MENSURA

maat

measure, I/144, 193, 234, IV/57, 58

MERETRIX; MERETRICIUS

boelin, hoer; onkuis

courtesan; purely sensual, II/243, 264, 271

MERITUM

verdienst

merit, II/78, 81, 237, 238, 239

METAPHYSICA; METAPHYSICUS

overnatuurkunde; overnatuurkundig

metaphysics; metaphysical, metaphysician, I/233, 245, 275, II/80, IV/160, 161

METHODUS

middel (TdIE), beleedt (PP), wijz (of middel) (E, Ep.)

method, I/127, 128, 129, 144, 196, II/13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 26, 38, 120, 138, IV/63

METUS

[PA 58, 165, 166: crainte; PA 45-48: peur]

vrees

fear, I/171, II/155, 170, 177, 178, 184, 194, 199, 201, 244, 245, 246, 250, 258, 261, 262, 265, 270, 273, 276, 288, 307

MICROSCOPIUM

vergrootglasje

miscroscope, IV/158, 159

MIRACULUM

wonderdaad, mirakel (KV)

miracle, I/267, 276, II/81

MISERICORDIA; MISERARI; MISERICORS

barmhartigheid (usu.), erbarmenis (occ), mededogen (occ); medelijden hebben met; barmhartig

compassion; to pity; compassionate, I/249, II/136, 165, 195, 196, 236, 252, 269

MIXTURA

vermenging

mixture, IV/16

MODERARI

bezadigen, matigen, bestieren

to moderate, govern, II/137, 143, 185, 205, 277

MODESTIA

[PA 205: modestie]

zedigheid

courtesy, II/188, 202, 272

MODIFICATIO

wijziging

modification, I/228, II/49, 50, 66, 67, 69, 93, IV/13

MODUS

wijze

mode, way, I/154, 165, 185, 192, 201, 211, 233, 236, 237, 238, 239, 249, 257, 258, 269, 275, 276, II/9, 45, 49, 50, 56, 57, 60, 68, 69, 70, 71, 72, 77, 84, 86, 88, 89, 90, 93, 99, 101, 102, 103, 104, 108, 109, 113, 146, 306, IV/13, 47, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58

MODUS (MODIFICATIO) INFINITUS

oneindige wijze (wijziging)

infinite mode (modification), (pl.) infinitely many modes, II/60, 66, 87

MODI NON EXISTENTES

wijzen die niet wezentlijk zijn

modes that do not exist, I/239, II/50, 90, 91, IV/54

MODUS COGITANDI

wijze van denken

mode of thinking, I/145, 155, 156, 173, 175, 233, 234, 235, 236, 244, 245, 246, 262, 269, II/72, 85, 86, 88, 89, 90, 92, 109, 124, 129, 130, 132, 141, 207, 208, 295, 306, IV/57

MOLES

grootheid

bulk, I/212, 213, IV/29

MOLESTUS

lastig, tot een last verstrekken

troublesome, burdensome, II/164, 183, 243, 265, 269

MOLLIS

zacht

soft, II/82, 100, 102, 103, 105

MOMENTUM

ogenblik

moment, I/263, IV/58

MORS; MORTALIS; MORTUUS

dood; sterfelijk

death; mortal; dead, II/203, 240, 261, 264, 302, 304, 305, 307, IV/131

MOS

zede (en gewoonte)

custom, practice, conduct, way, I/255, 260, II/9, 270

MOS GEOMETRICUS

meetkundige wijze

geometric style, I/129, 130, II/138, IV/8, 10, 63, 70

MOTUS; MOVERI

beweging, roering (KV); bewegen

motion; to move, I/150, 176, 181, 182, 183, 184, 191, 192, 193, 194, 195, 196, 197, 198, 199, 200, 201, 202, 203, 204, 205, 206, 207, 208, 209, 210, 211, 212, 213, 214, 215, 216, 217, 218, 219, 220, 221, 222, 223, 224, 225, 228, 229, 237, 248, 274, II/22, 27, 28, 34, 39, 97, 98, 99, 100, 101, 102, 103, 132, 278, 279, 280, IV/7, 12, 18, 19, 20, 25, 29, 30, 32, 50, 60, 74

MOTUS ET QUIES

beweging en rust (usu. E, rar. PP), en stilte (usu. PP, rar. E)

motion and rest, I/132, 184, 200, 201, 207, 209, 210, 216, II/73, 97, 98, 99, 101, 102, 141, 144, 239, 240, 241, IV/28, 49

MULIER; MULIEBRIS

vrouw; vrouwelijk

woman; unmanly, II/136, 167, 289

MULTITUDO

veelheid

multiplicity, I/246, IV/59

MUNDUS

wereld

world, I/191, 200, 226, 228, 251, 252, 262, 267, 269, 270, 271, 272, II/288

MUTABILES, RES SINGULARES

bijzondere veranderlijke dinge

singular changeable things, II/36, 37

MUTATIO; MUTARI; MUTABILIS

verandering; veranderen; veranderlijk

change; to change; changeable, I/211, 212, 213, 216, 217, 219, 220, 243, 255, 256, 257, II/29, 36, 37, 65, 75, 100, 101, 102, 138, 139, 148, 212, 213, 224, 240, 305

MUTILATUS; MUTILATE

verminkt; op een verminkte wijze

mutilated; in a mutilated way, II/28, 114, 116, 122, 131, 140, 265, 266, 293, 298

NATIO

volk

nation, II/175

NATURA [ = ESSENTIA, CONSTITUTIO]

natuur

nature, I/150, 151, 157, 158, 168, 181, 186, 187, 226, 233, 235, 240, 242, 246, 248, 264, 265, 270, 274, 276, 288, II/8, 11, 19, 20, 27, 37, 38, 45, 46, 48, 49, 53, 59, 65, 66, 67, 69, 70, 78, 81, 95, 100, 102, 103, 104, 114, 115, 127, 164, 178, 183, 184, 185, 187, 195, 222, 223, 224, 227, 230, 231, 232, 234, IV/53, 59, 60, 62, 64, 66, 67, 74

NATURA SIMPLEX

enkelde natuur

simple nature, II/50

NATURA SINGULARIS

bijzondere natuur

singular nature, IV/131

NATURA [ = TOTA NATURA], RERUM NATURA

natuur

Nature, I/207, 208, 227, 228, 229, 236, 242, 246, 257, 263, 264, 274, 277, II/8, 15, 16, 17, 18, 22, 23, 24, 26, 27, 28, 34, 35, 36, 48, 50, 52, 54, 79, 80, 102, 137, 138, 143, 206, 207, 208, 213, 253, 278, 285, IV/28, 33, 36, 57, 67

PARS NATURAE

deel van de natuur

part of Nature, II/145, 212, 252, 266, 267, 268, 276

PROGRESSUS NATURAE

voortgang der natuur

course of nature, IV/57

NATURA, DEUS SIVE

God of Natuur

God or Nature, II/206, 213

NATURA NATURANS

natuurende natuur

natura naturans, II/71, 72, IV/45

NATURA NATURATA

genatuurde natuur

natura naturata, I/264, 267, II/71, 72, 86, IV/45

NATURALIS

natuurlijk

natural, I/265, 277, II/13, 49, 73, 78, 81, 93, 137, 206, 285

NECESSITAS; NECESSARIUS

noodzakelijkheid; noodzakelijk

necessity; necessary, I/155, 240, 241, 242, 243, 261, 266, 272, II/19, 20, 21, 46, 52, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 70, 72, 74, 125, 126, 138, 177, 217, 247, 254, 257, 265, 276, 284, 285, 295, 298

NEGATIO; NEGARE; NEGATIVUS

ontkenning, beroving, beneening, negatie; ontkennen, loochenen; ontkennig, ontkenniglijk, negatief

negation; to deny; negative, I/132, 173, 174, 175, 176, 234, 241, 268, II/33, 39, 46, 49, 129, 130, 132, 145, 207, 230, 231, IV/101, 102, 107, 108, 128

NEXUS CAUSARUM

samenknoping der oorzaaken

connection of causes, II/257, 284

NIHIL

niet, het niet

nothing, I/154, 155, 158, 162, 163, 164, 183, 188, 240, 253, 268, II/22, IV/14, 47, 65

NITRUM

salpeter

niter, IV/14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 37, 48, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 69, 74

NOMEN

naam, woord, benaming

word, name, I/127, 149, 235, 242, 274, II/11, 22, 28, 33, 63, 83, 128, 175, 180, 203, IV/46

NORMA

(regel en) rechtsnoer

standard, II/15, 16, 17, 18, 26, 79, 129

NOTIO

kundigheid (usu.), kennis (rar.), Stelling (II/120?)

notion, I/132, 244, 245, II/81, 82, 83, 120, 121, 185, 207, IV/28, 33, 57

NOTIO COMMUNIS

gemene kundigheid (usu.), kennis (PP)

common notion, I/127, II/50, 119, 120, 122, 126, 128, IV/13

NOTIO SIMPLEX

eenvoudige kennis

simple notion, I/146

NOTIO SECUNDA

tweede kundigheid

second notion, II/120

NOTIO UNIVERSALIS

algemene kundigheid

universal notion, II/121, 122, 130

NOTUM (COGNITUM) PER SE

door zich bekend, door zich blijkt, uit zich bekend

known through itself, I/146, 152, 174, 182, II/17, 26, 65, 71, 72, 97, 98, 182, 279

NUMERUS

getal

number, I/190, 234, 270, 271, II/39, 50, 57, IV/53, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61

NUMMI

geld

money, II/8, 9, 243, 274, 275

NUTUS

wenk

command, II/135, 142

NON ENS

non ens

non-being, IV/83

OBEDIENTIA

gehoorzaamheid

obedience, II/238

OBJECTUM; OBJECTIVUS; OBJECTIVE

voorwerp; voorwerpig; voorwerpiglijk

object; objective; objectively, I/150, 153, 154, 155, 156, 160, 234, 238, 261, II/7, 14, 16, 23, 26, 27, 28, 32, 34, 35, 36, 38, 39, 63, 71, 82, 85, 88, 89, 91, 92, 95, 96, 97, 109, 116, 124, 139, 243, IV/42

OBTEMPERARE

gehoorzamen, onderdanig zijn

to obey, II/264, 265, 267

ODIUM; ODIO HABERE

[PA 56, 79, 80, 84, 85: haine]

haat; haten

hate; to hate, I/264, II/7, 136, 138, 151, 152, 153, 156, 157, 158, 159, 160, 161, 163, 164, 166, 169, 170, 171, 172, 173, 174, 175, 176, 177, 178, 183, 184, 193, 195, 196, 198, 200, 201, 231, 243, 244, 245, 247, 248, 252, 255, 259, 265, 269, 271, 281, 283, 287, 288, 291, IV/36

ODOR; ODORUS

reuk; sterkruikend

smell; odorous, IV/25, 26, 50, 68, 74

OFFICIUM

plicht

duty, function, II/274, 276, 277

OMEN

voorteken, voorspook

omen, II/177, IV/76, 77

OMNIPOTENTIA; OMNIPOTENS

almogenheid, almachtigheid; almachtig

omnipotence, I/263, 266, 267, 270, 275, II/62

OMNISCIENTIA; OMNISCIUS

alwetendheid; alwetend

omniscience; omniscient, I/261, 263, II/20

OPUS; OPERATIO; OPERARI (ALIQUID); OPERATOR

werk; werking; werken; werker

act, action, work; activity, actuality (rar.), procedure; act, do something, produce an effect; workman, I/149, 238, 243, 256, 259, 265, 268, 269, 273, 274, 277, II/5, 9, 11, 12, 14, 46, 68, 69, 70, 72, 73, 76, 115, 133, 209, IV/127, 130, 131

OPINIO

waan (usu.), gevoelen (occ.), opinie (occ. perhaps in KV, though not usual even there), mening

opinion, II/76, 117, 122, 198, 221, 252, 253, 260, 278, 301, IV/40, 64, 76, 130, 131

ORDO; ORDINARE

orde (usu. in PP, CM, TdIE), ordening (usu. in E); schikken

order; to order, I/129, 130, 228, 229, 239, 245, 261, 267, II/8, 9, 10, 15, 17, 18, 19, 23, 26, 28, 30, 34, 36, 37, 43, 73, 75, 78, 81, 82, 83, 93, 122, 191, 281, 287, 288, 293, 305, 306, IV/72, 77

ORDO ET CONNEXIO (CONCATENATIO) IDEARUM

ordening en samenknoping (samemschakeling) der denkbeelden

order and connection of ideas, II/89, 92, 107, 108, 281

ORDO (ET CONNEXIO, CONCATENATIO) RERUM

ordening (en samenknoping) der dingen

order (and connection) of things, II/89, 92, 107, 108, 141, 257, 281

ORDO MATHEMATICUS, GEOMETRICUS

wiskundige, meetkundige orde

mathematical, geometrical order, I/128, 130, 141, II/222

ORDO NATURAE, COMMUNIS

de gemene ordening (loop) der natuur

the common order of nature, II/114, 115, 213, 252, 268

ORDO NATURAE, (TOTUS); ORDO TOTIUS (UNIVERSAE) NATURAE

de (hele) orde der natuur; de ordening van de gehele (algemene) natuur

the (whole) order of Nature; the order of the whole of Nature, I/241, 243, 266, 267, II/16, 21, 25, 28, 53, 73, 75, 82, 85, 90, 111, 137, 213, 276, IV/54, 55

ORDO (SERIES) CAUSARUM

orde (rij) der oorzaaken

order (series) of causes, I/241, 243, II/36, 74

ORDO SIVE CONNEXIO CAUSARUM

ordening of samenknoping der oorzaaken

order or connection of causes, II/90, 92, 98

ORIGO OMNIUM RERUM, NATURAE

oorsprong aller dingen, der natuur

origin of all things, of Nature, II/17, 29, 30

PARABOLA

parabel

parable, IV/132

PARADOXA

wonderspreuken

paradoxes, II/18

PARASITUS

vleier

parasite, II/251

PARS

deel, zijde

part, direction, I/144, 176, 177, 179, 190, 207, 208, 211, 244, 250, 251, 258, 267, II/24, 28, 33, 55, 57, 58, 59, 60, 94, 95, 100, 110, 111, 113, 118, 127, 213, 222, 276, 302, IV/16, 18, 20, 21, 22, 23, 26, 27, 30, 33, 49, 50, 53, 55, 56, 58, 59, 61, 77

PARS MATERIAE

deel van de stof

part of matter, I/182, 184, 228, 229, 230, 257, IV/14

PARS MENTIS

deel van de ziel

part of the mind, II/293, 304, 305, 306

PARS NATURAE

deel van de natuur

part of nature, I/267, II/145, 212, 252, 266, 267, 268, 276

PARTIALITAS

eenzijdigheid

partiality, II/136

PARTICIPARE

deelachtig zijn

to participate, I/253, II/244, 275, IV/77, 78

PARTICULARIS; PARTICULARITER

bijzonder; bijzonderlijk

particular; particularly, I/200, 274, II/10, 20, 29, 36, 68, 115, 129, IV/9

PARTICULA

deeltje

particle, I/220, 221, 222, 225, 228, 229, 230, IV/17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 23, 24, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 49, 50, 65, 68, 74

PASSIO (= PATHEMA [RAR.]); PATI; PATIBILIS

lijding (usu.), tocht (rar.), hartstocht (rar.); lijden (usu.), lijding onderwerpen (rar.); lijdelijk

passion; to be acted on, undergo, admit; susceptible of being acted on, I/162, 256, 270, II/12, 31, 32, 57, 58, 60, 85, 97, 139, 140, 141, 144, 145, 148, 149, 164, 184, 185, 187, 201, 203, 204, 212, 213, 214, 215, 230, 231, 236, 240, 249, 254, 255, 266, 279, 282, 283, 284, 286, 291, 292, 293, 294, 301, 304, 305, 306, 308, IV/39, 40, 55, 59, 60

PECCATUM; PECCARE

zonde; zondigen

sin; to sin, I/256, 262, 265, II/78, 79, 81, 83, 206, 207, 208, 237, 238, 239, 250, 285

PECUNIA

geld

money, II/274, 288

PERCEPTIO; PERCIPERE; PERCEPTIBILIS

begrijping (usu.), bevatting (oft.), begrip (occ.), gewaarwording (rar.), bemerking (rar.); begrijpen, bevatten, gewaarworden, bemerken, verstaan (rar.); bevattelijk

perception; to perceive; perceptible, I/142, 144, 146, 149, 150, 153, 154, 166, 169, 171, 173, 174, 175, 181, 186, 191, 233, 241, 242, 243, II/10, 11, 12, 18, 19, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 36, 38, 39, 45, 67, 72, 77, 84, 86, 94, 95, 97, 104, 107, 108, 109, 110, 112, 114, 119, 122, 125, 126, 132, 133, 134, 139, 145, 249, 279, IV/56

PERFECTIO; PERFICERE; PERFECTUS; IMPERFECTIO; IMPERFECTUS

volmaaktheid; volmaken; volmaakt; onvolmaaktheid; onvolmaakt

perfection; to perfect; imperfection; imperfect, I/150, 153, 154, 155, 156, 157, 163, 164, 165, 166, 168, 169, 171, 174, 175, 176, 237, 238, 249, 253, 254, 261, 266, II/8, 9, 10, 12, 13, 18, 39, 54, 58, 61, 62, 74, 75, 76, 80, 83, 85, 86, 116, 148, 149, 150, 151, 191, 204, 205, 206, 207, 208, 209, 222, 223, 244, 254, 277, 291, 297, 300, 301, 302, 306, IV/131

PERFECTIO OBJECTIVA

voorwerpige volmaaktheid

objective perfection, I/150, 153, 154

PERIPATETICI

Peripatetischen

Peripatetics, I/259, 280, IV/61

PERSEVERANTIA; PERSEVERARE

volharding; volharden

perseverance; to persevere, I/157, 201, 209, 244, 248, II/67, 127, 146, 147, 186, 193, 209, 212, 214, 276

PERSONALITAS

persoonlijkheid

personality, I/264, Letter 12a

PERFIDIA; PERFIDUS

meinedigheid; meinedig

treachery; treacherous, II/264

PHAENOMENA

verschijnselen

phenomena, I/196, 226, 227, 228, II/22, IV/16, 17, 21, 26, 49, 50, 64, 66, 67, 70

PHANTASIA

verbeelding

fantasy, I/149, 234

PHILAUTIA

zelfsliefde

self-love, II/183, 197

PHILOSOPHIA; PHILOSOPHUS; PHILOSOPHARI; PHILOSOPHICUS; PHILOSOPHICE

wijsbegeerte; wijsgeer; filosoferen, tot wijsheid komen; wijsbegerig, wijsgerig, filosofisch; wijsgeerlijk, wijsgeriglijk

philosophy; philosopher; to philosophize; philosophic, philosophically, I/128, 133, 153, 161, 168, 201, 233, 234, 235, 246, 259, 260, 261, 267, 268, 273, 276, II/14, 17, 29, 31, 82, 93, 187, 235, IV/26, 28, 34, 37, 48, 50, 55, 67, 69, 74, 75, 132, 148, 158

PHILOSOPHIA MORALIS

zedige wijsbegeerte

moral philosophy, II/9

PHYSICA; PHYSICUS

natuurkunde; natuurlijk

physics; physical, II/35, 36, IV/161

PIETAS; PIUS; IMPIETAS; IMPIUS

godvruchtigheid; vrom; goddeloosheid; onvrom, boos

morality, duty; moral, pious (rar.); immorality; immoral, II/79, 136, 223, 236, 248, 265, 270, 271, 272, 273, 283, 306, 307, IV/127

POENA; PUNIRE

straf; straffen

punishment; to punish, I/265, II/7, 238, 248, 307, IV/93, 131

POENITENTIA; POENITERE

[PA 191: repentir]

berouw; berouw hebben

repentance; to repent, II/6, 143, 163, 179, 189, 197, 247, 250, 253

PONDUS; PONDEROSUS

zwaarte, gewicht; zwaar

weight; heavy, I/187, IV/30, 49, 65, 67, 68

POSITIVUS

stellig

positive, I/158, 172, 173, 174, 175, 176, 197, 253, II/33, 39, 40, 68, 116, 117, 192, 208

POSSIBILITAS; POSSIBILIS

mogelijkheid; mogelijk

possibility; possible, I/155, 162, 164, 165, 168, 236, 242, 244, 266, II/19, 20, 74, 115, 209, 217, 218, 284, IV/39

POSSIDERE

bezitten

to possess, II/7

POSTULATUM; POSTULARE

vereising; vereisen

postulate; to demand, I/127, 129, II/102, 139, 222

POTENTIA; POTENS; IMPOTENTIA; IMPOTENS

vermogen, macht; (ver)mogend, machtig; onvermogen, onmacht; onvermogend, onmachtig

power; powerful; lack of power, impotence, weakness; lacking power, I/160, 171, 234, 237, 238, 277, 280, II/10, 12, 15, 22, 27, 28, 32, 37, 38, 39, 53, 54, 83, 87, 106, 133, 137, 146, 147, 150, 151, 182, 185, 186, 196, 201, 202, 205, 208, 210, 212, 213, 214, 220, 221, 223, 224, 230, 236, 237, 244, 246, 249, 250, 252, 253, 266, 269, 270, 273, 275, 276, 277, 281, 284, 285, 293, 296, 308

POTENTIÂ

in ’t vermogen

potential(ly), I/181, 238, 248, 261, II/72, 75

POTENTIA ABSOLUTA

volkome macht

absolute power, I/267, II/137, 138

POTENTIA ACTUALIS

dadelijk vermogen

actual power, II/89

POTENTIA AGENDI

vermogen, macht van te (doen of te) werken

power of acting, II/138, 139, 150, 151, 152, 155, 156, 162, 168, 181, 182, 183, 184, 187, 188, 191, 196, 204, 208, 211, 214, 215, 228, 229, 233, 241, 242, 248, 249, 254, 268, 280

POTENTIA COGITANDI

macht, vermogen van te denken

power of thinking, II/109, 135, 148, 150, 152, 162, 188, 204

POTENTIA DEI (DIVINA)

Gods (goddelijke) macht, vermogen, mogendheid, kracht

God’s (divine) power, I/166, 167, 177, 188, 238, 243, 255, 260, 264, 266, 267, 271, 272, 273, 274, 275, 276, 280, II/57, 62, 63, 76, 87, 89, 146, 213, 261, IV/127

POTENTIA EXTRAORDINARIA

buitengewone macht

extraordinary power, I/267

POTENTIA ORDINARIA

gewone macht

ordinary power, I/267

POTENTIA ORDINATA

geordende macht

ordained power, I/267

POTESTAS

macht (usu.), vermogen (occ.), mogendheid (rar.), mogelijkheid (rar.)

power, I/146, 155, 161, 162, 163, 164, 173, 174, 175, 265, 275, 276, 278, 279, 280, II/13, 14, 134, 136, 142, 143, 144, 205, 210, 235, 238, 276, 279, 282, 283, 287, 298, 305

POTESTAS DEI

Gods macht

God’s power, II/61, 77, 87

POTESTAS, SUMMA

opperste macht

supreme power, II/248

PRAEDETERMINARE

voorbepalen

to predetermine, II/77

PRAEDICATUM; PRAEDICARE

gezeg; toeschrijven, zeggen, toeëigenen, verkondigen

predicate; to predicate, II/24, 121, 135, 184, 246

PRAEJUDICIUM

vooroordeel

prejudice, I/141, 159, 180, 188, 192, 193, 202, 248, II/17, 18, 54, 77, 79, 80, 120, 132, 206, IV/36, 130, 131, 159

PRAEMIUM

vergelding (E), beloning (KV), loon (Ep.)

reward, II/136, 307

PRAEORDINATIO DEI

Gods voorschikking

God’s preordination, I/178, 179

PRAESENTIA; PRAESENS

tegenwoordigheid; tegenwoordig(lijk)

presence; present, I/251, 252, 254, 255, II/37, 79, 104, 105, 106, 125, 126, 134, 149, 150, 151, 154, 162, 169, 170, 181, 188, 189, 194, 195, 198, 204, 210, 211, 212, 216, 217, 218, 219, 220, 221, 243, 251, 256, 257, 260, 264, 275, 285, 288, 294, 298, 300, IV/77

PRAETERITUS

voorgaand, verleden

past, II/125, 126, 154, 155, 194, 195, 210, 216, 217, 219, 240, 257, 294

PRAVUS

kwaad

wrong, evil, II/197, 198, 250

PRAXIS

oefening

practice, II/245

PRETIUM

vergelding en loon

reward, II/301

PREX

gebed

prayer, IV/130

PRIMORDIUM RERUM

oorsprong der dingen

origin of things, IV/51

PRINCIPIUM

beginsel

principle, I/141, 142, 143, 149, 153, 172, 174, 226, 227, II/26, 49, 207, 279, 303, IV/10, 40, 50, 66, 70, 75, 126

PRIVATIO; PRIVARE

beroving (PP, Ep., KV), derving (E); beroven

privation; to deprive, I/171, 173, 175, 176, 261, II/116, 117, 131, 191, 293, IV/128

PRIVATUS

bijzonder

private, II/271

PROBABILIS

bewijsbar

provable, IV/25

PROBRUM

schand

disgrace, II/249

PROBUS

vroom

pious, IV/127

PROCREARE

scheppen, voortbrengen, voortscheppen, telen, voorttelen

to create, produce, procreate, beget, I/172, 177, 202, 243, 244, 254, 262, 274, 276, II/187, 272

PROFANUS

onheilig

unholy, II/197

PRONUNTIATUM

uitspraak

proposition, IV/40

PROPENSIO

toegenegenheid

inclination, II/193

PROPHETA

profeet

prophet, I/266, II/250, IV/132, 133

PROPOSITIO

voorstelling

proposition, I/129, 130, 131, 144, IV/43, 44, 47

PROPRIETAS

eigenschap

property, I/150, 161, 163, 168, 176, 183, 190, 227, 245, II/10, 11, 33, 35, 36, 38, 40, 60, 77, 79, 85, 119, 122, 136, 138, 165, 192, 196, 197, 257, 265, IV/65

PROPRIETAS COMMUNIS

gemene eigenschap

common property, II/115, 186, 285, 289, 293

PROPRIUM

eigen

proprium, peculiar, proper, II/10, 34, 119, 184, 288

PROVIDENTIA

voorzienigheid

providence, I/261

PROXIMUS

naast

fellowman, IV/133

PRUDENTIA; PRUDENS

voorzightigheid, wijsheid; voorzichtig, voorbedachtelijk

prudence; prudent, intentionally, I/233, 277, II/137, 180, IV/38, 76

PUDOR

[PA 205: honte]

schaamte (E), beschaamdheid (KV)

shame, II/163, 170, 171, 189, 198, 199, 253, 254, 272

PUER

jong, kind

child, II/134, 135, 143, 165, 270, 305

PULCHRITUDO; PULCHER

schoonheid; schoon

beauty; beautiful, I/165, II/78, 81, 82

PURUS

zuiver

pure, II/31, 33, 34, IV/131

PUSILLANIMITAS; PUSILLANIMIS

[PA 174: lâcheté]

kleinmoedigheid; kleinmoedig

cowardice; cowardly, II/179, 201

QUAESTIO

geschil

problem (usu.), question, I/127, 133, 250, II/21, 30, 35, IV/10, 50, 61

QUALITAS

hoedanigheid

quality, I/150, 163, II/7, IV/12, 48, 49, 64, 74

QUALITAS SENSILIS

gevoelige hoedanigheid

sensible quality, I/184, 186, 187, 189

QUALITAS TACTILIS

raakbare hoedanigheid

tangible quality, IV/25

QUALITAS OCCULTA

verborge hoedanigheid

occult quality, II/152, 279, IV/12

QUALITAS NOTA VEL MANIFESTA

bekende of openbare hoedanigheid

known or manifest quality, II/152

QUANTITAS

hoegrootheid

quantity, I/142, 193, 200, 201, 203, 208, 209, 234, 254, 274, II/39, 57, 58, 59, 279, IV/56, 57, 65

QUIES; QUIESCERE

rust; rusten

rest; to be at rest, I/182, 184, 194, 225, IV/17, 19, 20

RAREFACTIO

verdunning

rarefaction, I/186

RATIO; RATIOCINARI; RATIONCINATIO, RATIOCINIUM; RATIONALIS

reden; redeneren; redenering; redelijk

reason, principle, reasoning, way, method, relation, nature; to reason; reasoning; rational, I/146, 154, 195, 201, 265, II/15, 16, 17, 32, 39, 59, 77, 122, 125, 126, 138, 143, 206, 221, 227, 237, 248, 249, 250, 253, 254, 255, 256, 257, 258, 159, 263, 264, 265, 266, 267, 268, 271, 272, 273, 276, 277, 283, 285, 289, 306, IV/29, 50, 66, 67, 132

RATIONIS, CONSILIUM

berading der reden

counsel of reason, II/246.

RATIONIS, DICTAMEN

See dictamen rationis

RATIONIS, (EX) DUCTU

uit (door, naar) ’t beleid der reden

according to the guidance of reason, I/236, II/83, 136, 223, 226, 232, 233, 234, 235, 236, 237, 241, 245, 246, 247, 250, 251, 259, 260

RATIONIS, EX IMPERIO

naar ’t gebied der reden

according to the command of reason, II/269, 289

RATIONIS, PRAECEPTUM

onderwijzing der reden

precept of reason, II/222

RATIONIS, PRAESCRIPTUM

voorschrift van de reden

rule of reason, II/222, 269, 273, 288, 307

REALITAS; REALIS; REALITER

zakelijkheid; zakelijk, wezenlijk, dadelijk (KV); zakelijk

reality; real; really, I/154, 155, 165, 242, 245, 249, 268, II/14, 16, 36, 51, 52, 54, 60, 85, 86, 97, 124, 133, 204, 207, 257, 299, IV/45

REALITAS OBJECTIVA

voorwerpelijke zakelijkheid

objective reality, I/150, 153, 154, 155, 156, 157

RECTUS

recht (usu.), goed en oprecht (occ.)

right, I/173, II/9, 34, 137, 197, 266, 287, 288

REDINTEGRATIO; REDINTEGRARE

herstelling; herstellen

reconstitution; to reconstitute, IV/16, 17, 19, 49, 65, 66, 74

REGULA

regel

rule, I/142, 144, 205, 206, 234, II/9, 15, 16, 18, 33, 38, 222

RELATIO

betrekking

relation, I/252, II/36, 203, 298

RELIGIO; RELIGIOSUS

godsdienst, godsdienstig

religion; religious, II/197, 236, 265, 270, 272, 306, 307, IV/39

REMEDIA AFFECTUUM

hulpmiddelen der hartstochten

remedies for the affects, II/280, 283, 293, 294

REPRAESENTAMEN; REPRAESENTARE

herdenking; gedenken, heugen

recollection; to recollect, I/183, 235, II/31, 82, 106, 121, 122, 125, 143, 144, 149, 150, 151, 167, 175, 176, 180, 199, 294, 295, 296

REPRAESENTAMEN; REPRAESENTARE

vertoning; vertonen

presentation; to present, II/24, 25, 82, 106

RES

ding, zaak

thing, I/150, 151, 155, 157, 158, 170, 171, 185, 188, 192, 201, 235, 238, 240, 245, 247, 248, 260, 262, 273, 274, 276, II/19, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 30, 33, 34, 36, 37, 38, 39, 49, 67, 73, 74, 89, 106, 120, 121, 128, 131, 138, 141, 145, 146, 151, 152, 153, 206, 208, 289, IV/8, 14, 42, 43, 47, 59

RES SPIRITUALIS

geestelijk ding

spiritual thing, I/274, 281

RES COGITANS

denkende zaak

thinking thing, I/153, 155, 161, 162, 166, 180, 191, 277, 278, 279, II/56, 84, 86, 88, 90, 92, IV/45, 132

RESPECTUS; RESPECTIVE

opzicht; opzichtelijk

respect, relation; in a certain respect, I/236, 237, 240, 241, 247, 248, 249, 254, 264, II/8, 26, 82, IV/40, 46

RESPUBLICA

gemene staat

republic, IV/37, 38, 70

REVELATIO; REVELARE

openbaring; openbaren

revelation; to reveal, I/201, 264, 275, 276, IV/132, 133

REVERENTIA

eerbiedigheid

reverence, II/250

RISUS; RIDERE

gelach; belachen

laughter (usu.), ridicule (occ); to laugh at, II/117, 137, 138, 189, 243, 244, 247?, IV/128

SACER

heilig

holy, II/197

SAEVITIA

strafheid

severity, II/201

SAL, FIXUS, LIXIVIOSUS

zout, vast, loogachtig

salt, fixed, alkaline, IV/17, 18, 19, 49, 65, 66, 75

SALUS; SALVARE

zaligheid, welstand, heil (KV); zalig maken

salvation; to save, I/247, 265, II/303, 308, IV/130

SALUS PUBLICA

gemene welstand

general welfare, II/259

SANUS

gezond

sound, II/82, 305

SAPIENTIA; SAPIENS

wijsheid; wijs

wisdom; wise man, II/14, 244, 261, 277, 288, 308

SAPOR

smaak

taste, IV/19, 27, 49, 65

SCELUS

schelmstuk

knavery, IV/131

SCEPTICUS; SCEPTICISMUS

twijfelaar; twijfeldon

skeptic; skepticism, I/141, II/18, 82

SCHOLASTICI; SCHOLAE; SCHOLASTICUS

Schoolsgezinden; Scholen

scholastics; the schools; scholastic, II/67, 279, IV/48, 51

SCIENTIA; SCIRE; SCIENTIFICUS

wetenschap (usu.), kennis (occ.); weten; bekendmakend

science (usu.), knowledge (occ.); to know; scientific, I/127, 132, 133, 141, 142, 143, 144, 153, 233, 261, 262, 263, 274, II/6, 8, 9, 10, 12, 14, 15, 18, 32, 75, 109, 221, IV/39

SCIENTIA DEI

Gods wetenschap

God’s knowledge, I/261, 262, 274

SCIENTIA INTUITIVA

zienige kennis

intuitive knowledge, II/122

SCRIPTURA, SACRA (SACRAE LITTERAE, SACRI CODICES)

(Heilige) Schrift, schriftuur

(Sacred) Scripture, I/256, 264, 265, II/303, IV/126, 132, 133

SECURITAS; SECURUM REDDERE; SECURE

[PA 166: sécurité]

gerustheid, verzekerheid (KV); verzekeren; met veiligheid

confidence; to make confident; confidently, II/155, 180, 194, 238, 245, 246

SEDITIO

beroerte

sedition, II/273

SEMINA

zaden

seeds, I/226, 227

SENSATIO; SENSUS; SENTIRE

gevoeling, voeling; zin, gevoeling, gevoel (KV); voelen, gevoelen, gewaarworden

sensation, awareness; sense, sense perception, feeling, meaning; to sense, feel, be aware of, think, I/142, 145, 149, 156, 157, 171, 173, 179, 180, 184, 186, 191, 192, 193, 194, 195, 196, 234, 239, 277, II/11, 15, 18, 23, 24, 29, 30, 31, 32, 37, 68, 82, 83, 86, 93, 96, 105, 122, 132, 133, 159, 160, 187, 195, 197, 208, 222, 237, 252, 278, 279, 296, IV/8, 20, 27, 28, 29, 33, 56, 67, 68, 70, 77, 78, 132

SENSUS COMMUNIS

gemene zin

common sense, II/31

SERVITUS; SERVUS; SERVIRE

dienstbarkeid, dienst; slaaf; dienen

bondage, service; slave; to serve, be a slave, II/136, 205, 260, 272, 307, IV/127

SIGNIFICATIO; SIGNUM; SIGNIFICARE

betekening, betekenis; teken; beteken

meaning; sign; to mean, signify, I/246, 264, 281, II/10, 15, 122, 195, 196, 206

SIMILITUDO; SIMILIS

gelijkheid; gelijk

similarity; like, II/107, 157, 158, 160, 161, 165, 175

SIMPLICITAS; SIMPLEX; SIMPLICITER

eenvoudigheid; eenvoudig, enkel; enkelijk

simplicity; simple; simply, I/142, 177, 201, 203, 226, 227, 229, 248, 255, 263, II/14, 24, 25, 26, 27, 32, 50, 70, 99, 101, 103, 122, 193, 284

SIMPLICISSIMA CORPORA

eenvoudigste lichamen

simplest bodies, II/99, 101

SIMPLICITAS DEI

Gods eenvoudigheid

God’s simplicity, I/177, 255, 257, 258, 259, 263, 267

SINGULARIS; SINGULARITER

bijzonder(lijk)

singular; peculiarly, singly, separately, I/263, 265, II/12, 31, 32, 34, 36, 37, 69, 70, 85, 86, 90, 91, 92, 94, 98, 115, 118, 121, 122, 127, 130, 131, 135, 138, 146, 179, 180, 183, 184, 191, 195, 207, 209, 210, 233, 273, 280, 285, 296, 303, 304, IV/131

SITUS

stand

position, I/150, 256, II/100, IV/49

SOBRIETAS

nuchterheid, soberheid

sobriety, II/185, 188, 203

SOCIETAS; SOCIALIS

gezelligheid, gemeenschap; gezellig

society; social, II/9, 18, 136, 234, 238, 241, 270, 271, 288

SOCINIANI

socinianen

Socinians, IV/132

SOMNIUM; SOMNIARE

droom; dromen

dream; to dream, I/146, II/19, 24, 78, 134, 144, 243, IV/76

SOMNUS; DORMIRE

slaap; slapen

sleep; to sleep, II/19, 134, 142, 143, 243, IV/76

SONUS

klank

sound, IV/25, 50, 68

SPATIUM

ruimte, lengte

space, length, interval, I/181, 184, 185, 186, 187, 189, 194, 197, 199, 222, 223, 228, 229, 230, 268, II/10, 21, 33, 305

SPECIALIS

bijzonder

particular, II/36

SPECIES

gedaante, soort

species, I/234, 235, 251, 262, II/116, 127, 159, 184, 185, 207, 268

SPECIES

schijn

appearance, II/271, 272, 289

SPECIMEN

proef

experiment, IV/14, 35

SPES; SPERARE

[PA 165: espérance]

hoop; verhopen

hope, to hope, II/6, 7, 155, 173, 177, 178, 180, 181, 184, 193, 195, 245, 246, 250, 307

SPIRITUALIS

geestelijk

spiritual, I/274, 281, II/32, IV/7, 10

SPIRITUS ANIMALES

dierlijke geesten

animal spirits, I/234, II/278, 279, 280

SPIRITUS NITRI

geest van de salpeter

spirit of niter, IV/17, 18, 19, 20, 22, 23, 26, 27, 32, 49, 65, 66, 68, 74, 75

STATUS

stand

state, I/201, 208, 209, 211, 218, 220, 248, 256, II/59, 79, 256

STATUS CIVILIS

burgerlijke stand

civil state, II/237, 238

STATUS NATURALIS

naturelijke stand

natural state, state of nature, II/237, 238

STOICI

Stoischen

Stoics, II/28, 277

STULTITIA

dwaasheid

folly, II/181

STUPOR; STUPEFACTUM

verwondering; verbaasd

foolish wonder; senseless, II/81, 202

SUBJECTUM

onderwerp, subject (EP)

subject, I/150, 176, 245, 255, 256, II/24, 145, 146, 281, IV/40, 67, 151

SUBSTANTIA; SUBSTANTIVUS

zelfstandigheid; zelfstandig

substance; substantive, substantial I/132, 150, 151, 153, 154, 155, 161 163, 165, 179, 181, 185, 236, 239, 240, 249, 257, 258, 275, 276, II/35, 45, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 59, 60, 64, 71, 72, 90, 92, 93, 97, IV/8, 11, 13, 14, 41, 44, 45, 46, 53, 54, 56, 57, 58, 65

SUBSTANTIA (ABSOLUTE) INFINITA

(volstrekt) oneindige zelfstandigheid

(absolutely) infinite substance, I/154, 163, II/8, 45, 46, 49, 55, IV/41

SUBSTANTIA COGITANS

denkende zelfstandheid

thinking substance, I/132, 162, 163, 167, 275, II/90

SUBSTANTIA CORPOREA, EXTENSA

lichamelijke, uitgestrekte zelfstandigheid

corporeal, extended substance, I/167, 179, 180, 181, 189, 275, II/57, 58, 59, 60, 90, IV/55, 56, 60

SUBSTANTIA CREATA

geschape zelfstandigheid

created substance, I/269, 275, 276, II/50

SUBSTANTIA FINITA

eindige zelfstandigheid

finite substance, I/163, II/55, 56

SUBSTANTIA INCREATA

ongeschape zelfstandigheid

uncreated substance, I/237

SUPERBIA; SUPERBIRE; SUPERBUS

[PA 157: orgueuil]

verwaandheid, hovaardigheid; verwaand (en hovaardig) worden; verwaand

pride; to become proud; proud, II/159, 164, 197, 198, 246, 250, 251, 252, 264, 265, 272, 283

SUPERNATURALIS

bovennatuurlijk

supernatural, II/81

SUPERSTITIO; SUPERSTITIOSUS

waangeloof (usu. E, Ep.) waangelovigheid (occ. E), overgelovigheid (PP, CM); waangelovig

superstition; superstitious, I/165, 261, II/79, 136, 178, 236, 240, 244, 258, 275, IV/39, 130, 131

SUPPLICIUM

straf

punishment, II/307

SUSPICIO

achterdenking, vermoeden

suspicion, II/294, IV/40

SYMPATHIA

toegenegenheid

sympathy, I/197, II/152

SYNTHESIS

zamenzetting

synthesis, I/129

TABULA

schilderij

tablet, II/124

TABULA RASA

zuiver tafereel

blank tablet, I/279

TAEDIUM

zatheid

weariness, II/189

TELESCOPIUM

verrekijker

telescope, IV/159

TEMPERANTIA; SIBI TEMPERARE

matigheid; zich matigen

moderation; to be moderate, II/185, 188, 202, 203

TEMPUS

tijd

time, I/157, 161, 182, 185, 193, 194, 195, 196, 197, 234, 243, 244, 269, 271, 273, 275, II/46, 125, 126, 147, 154, 178, 208, 209, 210, 216, 217, 218, 219, 220, 221, 256, 257, 293, 295, 296, 298, 304, IV/11, 57, 58, 60, 78

TERMINUS; TERMINARE

uiterste, bewoording, kunstwoord, paal; bepalen

term, technical term, limit; to limit, I/127, 234, 270, II/10, 45, 57, 67, 207

TERMINUS TRANSCENDENTALIS

overklimmend uiterste (CM), bewoording (E)

transcendental term, I/245, 247, II/120, 121

TEXTURA

samenzetting

texture, IV/12, 74

THEOLOGIA; THEOLOGI; THEOLOGASTRI

godgeleerdheid, theologie (occ.); godgeleerde; onnozele godgeleerde

theology; theologians; foolish theologians, I/201, 260, 264, 267, 273, 275, II/80, 234, IV/36, 37, 51, 75, 126, 132, Letter 12a

TIMOR; TIMERE; TIMIDUS

[PA 58, 162: crainte]

schroom, vrees; vresen; blo

timidity (usu.), fear (occ); to be timid, to fear; timid, II/7, 170, 179, 199, 201, 202, 203, 212, 238, 258, 259, 304

TITILLATIO

[PA 94: chatouillement]

kitteling

pleasure, I/179, II/149, 191, 242, 243

TRADUX

voortzetting

transmission, I/275

TRANQUILLITAS

gerust

peace, IV/127

TRANSFORMATIO

vervorming

transformation, I/255, 256

TRANSITIO; TRANSIRE

overganing; overgaan

passage; to pass, II/149, 191, 291

TREMOR

siddering

trembling, II/189

TRISTITIA; CONTRISTARI

[PA 92: tristesse]

droefheid; z. bedroeven

sadness; to be saddened, II/6, 7, 149, 151, 152, 153, 154, 155, 156, 157, 158, 159, 160, 161, 162, 163, 168, 171, 174, 175, 176, 177, 179, 182, 184, 186, 191, 204, 215, 221, 229, 232, 246, 254, 255, 272, 275, 285, 291, 292, IV/149

TURPIS

schandelijk

dishonorable, shameful, I/277, II/197, 198, 199, 236, 244, 264, 265, 270

UBIQUITAS; UBIQUE

overaltegenwoordigheid; overal

omnipresence; everywhere, I/188, 254, 255, 263

UNITAS; UNIO; UNICUS; UNUS

eenheid; vereniging; enig; een

unity; union (usu.), unity (rar.); unique, one; one, I/169, 191, 241, 245, 246, 253, 258, 263, 267, 272, II/8, 11, 29, 33, 36, 49, 56, 58, 63, 77, 88, 90, 93, 100, IV/54, 56, 77

UNITAS DEI

Gods eenheid

God’s unity, I/246, 252, 253

UNIO MENTIS ET CORPORIS

vereniging van geest en lichaam

union of mind and body, II/11, 96, 279, 280

UNIVERSALIS; UNIVERSALITER

algemeen; algemenelijk

universal; universally, I/142, 144, 203, 226, 263, II/10, 12, 29, 34, 36, 37, 129, 134, 135, 138, 175, 183, 206, 257, 303

UNIVERSUM; UNIVERSUS

heelal; algemeen

universe; whole, II/53, 280, IV/8

USUS

gebruik, gewoonte

usage, practice, need, I/175, II/180, 195, 199, 200, 277, 278, IV/28, 29

UTILITAS, UTILE; PRODESSE; UTILIS; OBESSE; INUTILIS

nut, nuttigheid, voordeel; vorderlijk zijn; nuttig; schadelijk zijn; onnut

advantage; to be useful; useful; to be harmful; useless, I/159, 175, II/6, 9, 78, 81, 120, 136, 170, 188, 200, 209, 215, 222, 223, 224, 226, 227, 228, 230, 233, 237, 238, 239, 241, 252, 255, 263, 265, 267, 268, 269, 271, 273, 276, 288, 306, IV/73, 130

VACUUM; VACUISTA

ijdel; beweerders van het ijdel

vacuum; those who affirm a vacuum, I/181, 188, 197, II/59, IV/32, 34, 49, 65, 70, 74

VALETUDO

gezondheid

health, II/9, 81, 256

VANITAS; VANUS

ijdelheid; ijdel

emptiness; empty, II/5, 138, 236, 253, 288

VARIATIO

verandering

variation, change, I/185, 191, 211, 212, 219, 220, 255, II/189, 294, 305, IV/67

VENERATIO; VENERARI

[PA 162: vénération]

eerbiedigheid; eren

veneration; to venerate, II/180, 181, 183, 192

VERBUM; VERBALIS

woord; woordelijk

word; verbal, I/156, 157, 246, 248, 251, II/29, 31, 33, 35, 122, 131, 132, 195, 264, IV/36, 77, 148

VERECUNDIA

beschaamtheid, schaamachtigheid

a sense of shame, II/170, 199

VERISIMILITUDO; VERISIMILIS, VERO SIMILIS

waarschijnlijkheid; waarschijnlijk

probability; probable, I/128, IV/13

VERACITAS DEI

Gods waarachtigheid

God’s veracity, I/171, 267

VERITAS, VERUM; VERUS; VERE

waarheid; waar; waarlijk

truth; true; truly, I/127, 128, 129, 133, 141, 144, 145, 150, 151, 171, 174, 175, 192, 235, 236, 246, 247, 251, 265, II/8, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 32, 37, 38, 47, 48, 50, 51, 63, 71, 105, 116, 117, 118, 122, 123, 124, 129, 135, 211, 212, 219, 220, 221, 249, 257, 276, 291, 299, 303, 304, IV/39, 40, 42, 43, 44, 45, 47, 51, 73, 76, 146

VERITAS AETERNA

ewige waarheid

eternal truth, I/158, 250, II/20, 25, 36, 46, 50, 63, 64, 65, 303, IV/43, 47

VESTIGIUM

spoor, merkteken, voetstap

trace, II/103, 106, 139, 140, 278, 296, IV/77

VINDICTA; (SESE) VINDICARE

[PA 88: vengeance]

wraak; (z.) wreken, z. verdedigen

vengeance; to avenge (o.s.), appropriate, II/143, 172, 201, 237, 238, 244, 245, 269

VIRTUS

deugd, kracht

virtue (usu.), power (occ), I/161, 271, 272, II/54, 86, 106, 136, 138, 183, 184, 210, 222, 223, 224, 225, 226, 228, 234, 235, 236, 237, 247, 248, 249, 250, 251, 252, 253, 255, 262, 273, 283, 289, 293, 296, 297, 306, 307, IV/49, 70

VIS

kracht, macht, vermogen

force, power, I/157, 161, 163, 165, 166, 169, 182, 183, 185, 202, 203, 204, 208, 209, 210, 211, 214, 215, 216, 220, 221, 222, 223, 224, 225, 230, 237, 240, 241, 242, 243, 248, 251, 256, 258, 260, II/10, 14, 16, 23, 27, 31, 37, 38, 54, 61, 121, 127, 137, 183, 203, 204, 209, 212, 214, 215, 220, 222, 227, 234, 242, 256, 264, 266, 271, 280, 287, 293, IV/29, 31, 35, 36, 53, 61, 62

VISIBILIS

zienlijk, zichtbaar

visible, IV/28, 29, 50, 66

VISIO DEI

aanschouwing Gods

vision of God, I/264

VITA; VIVERE

leven; leven

life; to live, I/175, 259, 260, II/5, 6, 7, 9, 11, 18, 132, 137, 164, 187, 207, 225, 226, 234, 236, 237, 238, 240, 245, 249, 253, 260, 261, 265, 267, 268, 275, 279, 287, 288, 305, 306, 307, 308, IV/127

VITIUM

gebrek

vice, defect, II/106, 137, 138, 198, 269, 273, 285, 289, 294

VITUPERIUM; VITUPERARE

[PA 157, 206; blâme]

laster; lasteren

blame; to blame, II/78, 81, 163, 182, 237, 249

VOCABULUM

woord, naam

word, term, I/246, II/180, 181, IV/40

VOLATILIS

vluchtig

volatile, IV/16, 21, 22, 64

VOLUNTAS; VOLITIO; VELLE

wil; willing; willen

will; volition; to will, I/132, 146, 149, 153, 171, 173, 174, 175, 176, 244, 256, 263, 273, 274, 277, 278, 279, 280, 281, II/15, 63, 71, 72, 73, 74, 78, 117, 129, 130, 131, 133, 134, 135, 147, 148, 161, 190, 192, 277, 278, 279, 280, IV/9, 129, 130, 132

VOLUNTAS DEI

Gods wil

God’s will, I/176, 177, 179, 238, 243, 257, 260, 261, 263, 264, II/62, 63, 71, 73, 75, 81, IV/128

VULGUS; VULGARIUS; VULGO

’t gemeen volk, ’t gemeen, de menigte; gemeen; gemenelijk

ordinary people, the people, the mob, the multitude; ordinary, common; ordinarily, I/127, 168, 246, 254, 261, II/6, 7, 9, 33, 81, 83, 87, 162, 180, 250, 253, 274, 307, IV/28, 29, 48

ZELOTYPIA; ZELOTYPUS

[PA 167: jalousie]

ijverzucht of jaloersheid, naivering, belgzucht (KV); ijverzuchtig

jealousy; jealous, II/167, 203, 292

Dutch–Latin–English

AALMOES

eleemosyna

charity, IV/140, 149, 150, 156

AANDOENING

affectio, I/48

ABSTRACTLIJK

abstractè, IV/92

ACHTING

[existimatio?]

esteem, I/68

AFHANGEN; AFHANGIG

dependere; dependens, I/17, 26, 28, 29, 30, 32, 33, 34, 36, 39, 41, 47, 64, 74, 85, 87, IV/149

AFKEER, AFKEERLIJKHEID; AFKEER HEBBEN, AFKEERIG ZIJN

aversio; aversari, I/65, 66, 67

AFNOEMING

denominatio, I/4

AFTREKSEL; AFTREKKEN; AFTREKKIG

[abstractio]; [abstrahere]; abstractus, abstractè, I/17

AFVAL

lapsus

fall, IV/115

AKTIE

actio, IV/108

DE AL

the All, I/19

ALGEMEEN

universalis, I/17, 32, 40, 42, 43, 47, 48, 49, 51, 56, 61, 81, 82, 83

ALMACHTIGHEID, ALMOGENHEID; ALMACHTIG

omnipotentia; omnipotens, I/18, 19, 20, 22, 28, 29, 44

ALWETENDHEID; ALWETEND

omniscientia; omnisciens, I/22, 23, 29, 44, 45

ALWEZEN

universal being, I/24

ANTIPATIE

antipathia, IV/90

BARMHARTIGHEID; BARMHARTIG; OMBARMHARTIG

misericordia; misericors; immisericors, I/44, 45, IV/147

BEEST

bestia, IV/109

BEGEERLIJKHEID

libido? concupiscentia?

lust, I/28, 29, 30

BEGEERTE; BEGEREN

cupiditas, appetitus, desiderium; cupere, appetere, desiderare, I/38, 56, 58, 67, 77, 80, 84, 85, 86, 118, IV/136, 137

BEGINSEL

principium (usu.), elementum (rar.), I/21, 26, 109

BEGRIP, BEGRIJPING; BEGRIJPEN

conceptus, perceptio; concipere, percipere, comprehendere, continere, I/16, 26, 30, 54, 57, 61, 64, 70, 81, 96

BEHOUDENIS, BEHOUDING; BEHOUDEN

conservatio, I/40, 52, 58, 72, 82, 90, 118

BEKERING

conversion, I/107

BEKLAG

desiderium, I/76

BELGZUCHT

zelotypia, I/72

BELONING

reward, I/87, 104

BENAMING

denominatio, I/84, 89

BENAMING, UITWENDIGE

denominatio, extrinseca, I/27

BENAUWDHEID

anxiety, I/92

BEPALING; PAAL; BEPALEN; BEPAALD

determinatio (KV), definitio (elsewhere); terminus; determinare, definire, terminare; determinatus, I/16, 19, 20, 26, 28, 37, 51, 53, 82, 92, 107, 114, IV/88, 89

BEROVING

privatio, IV/91, 99, 100, 101, 102, 103, 104, 107, 109, 136

BEROUW; BEROUW HEBBEN

poenitentia; poenitere, I/29, 73

BESCHAAMTHEID ( = SCHAAMTE IN KV)

verecundia (E), pudor (KV), I/74, 75

BESCHRIJVING; BESCHRIJVEN

descriptio (CM), definitio (KV); definire (KV), I/3, 4, 15, 22, 32, 39, 44, 45, 46, 47, 49, 50, 53, 56, 69, 71, 75, 78, 119, 120

BESCHULDIGEN

accusare

to blame, IV/147

BESLUIT; BESLUITEN

decretum; decerno, I/80, 104, IV/89, 90

BESLUIT, GODS

decretum Dei, IV/84, 140, 143, 149

BESPOTTING; BESPOTTEN

irrisio; irridere, I/74

BESTAAN

existere

exist, persist, (with van, in) consist of, in, I/15, 17, 22, 23, 24, 25, 35, 37, 40, 51, 53, 54, 63, 77, 94, 96, 98, 102, 104, 107

BESTAAN DOOR (VAN) ZICH

[existere per (a) se], I/27, 28, 29, 30, 44, 45, 46, 47, 116

BESTANDIGHEID, BESTANDIG

constantia, I/79, 80, 102, 107, 108

BETEKENING, BETEKENIS

significatio, I/97, 106

BETREKKING

relatio, I/49

BEVATTING; BEVATTEN

conceptus, perceptio, captus; concipere, percipere, I/25, 54, 60, 78, 81, 85, 91, 94, 96, 117

BEVESTIGING; BEVESTIGEN; BEVESTIGLIJK

affirmatio; affirmare; affirmativus, I/15, 16, 17, 45, 49, 78, 79, 80, 81, 82, 83, 84, 85

BEVINDING

experientia, I/58

BEWEGING; BEWEGEN

motus (usu.), commotio (rar.), impulsus (rar.); movere, I/25, 26, 27, 34, 48, 53, 74, 92, 114, IV/82, 83

BEWEGING EN STILTE, RUST

motus et quies, I/25, 27, 52, 90, 91, 93, 94, 99, 116, 120

BEWEGING VAN DE ZIEL

commotio animae, I/61

BEWUST

conscius, I/61, 79, 83, 91

BIJZONDER(LIJK)

singularis, particularis, singulariter, I/3, 24, 25, 34, 36, 40, 42, 43, 47, 51, 52, 55, 62, 81, 82, 83, 97, 105, 119, 120, IV/91

BLIJDSCHAP; ZICH VERBLIJDEN, BLIJ

laetitia; laetari; laetus, I/67, 71, 74, 96, 103, 118, 121

BOERTERIJ

ridicule, I/74

CHRISTENEN

christiani, I/58, IV/146

CONCEPT

conceptus, I/15, 25, 83, IV/148

CONSCIENTIE

conscience, I/67

DADELIJKHEID; DADELIJK; IN DER DAAD

actualitas; actualis; actu, I/24, 42, 60, 64, 78, 81, 82, 86, 98, 114, 115, 116, 118, 119

DANKBARHEID

gratia, I/76, 77, IV/147

DAPPERHEID

bravery, I/71

DEEL; DEELTJE; DEELING, DEELBAR

pars; particula; divisio, divisibile, I/18, 24, 25, 26, 29, 33, 96

DEEL VAN DE NATUUR

pars naturae, I/40, 64, 86, 88, 105

DEFINITIE

definitio, IV/91, 92

DEEL VAN DE NATUUR

cogitatio; cogitare, I/23, 24, 27, 29, 30, 43, 44, 51, 52, 53, 61, 78, 79, 90, 91, 92, 96, 98, 104, 114, 117, 118, 119, IV/154, 155

DENKENDE ZAAK

res cogitans, I/45, 48, 52, 91, 92, 96, 97, 98, 101, 103, 108

DENKBEELD

idea, I/3, 8, 32, 34, 111, 112

DENKBEELD VAN GOD

idea Dei, I/34, 249, IV/148, 151

DEPENDENT; DEPENDENTIE

dependens; dependentia, IV/105, 106, 107, 111, 143

DETERMINATIE; DETERMINEREN

determinatio; determinare, IV/83, 84, 148

DEUGD

virtus, I/11, 108, IV/93, 94, 112, 137, 138, 141, 142, 151, 152, 156

DICHTEN

fingere, IV/93, 118, 119

DIEF

fur

thief, IV/150, 151

DIENAAR; DIENEN

servus; servire

servant; to serve, I/87, IV/94, 95

DOENING, DAAD

actio, actus, functio, facinus, opus, actio, I/110, 111, IV/83, 84, 100, 101, 103, 108, 109, 111, 112, 143, 147

DOLING; DOLEN

error; errare, I/54, 55, 58, 61, 78, 79, 80, IV/99, 103, 104, 105, 106, 114, 115, 116, 140, 147, 154

DOOD

mors, I/52, 70, IV/122

DOODSLAAN

occidere

killing, IV/140, 149, 150, 156. See also moedermord

DROEFHEID; Z. BEDROEVEN

tristitia; contristari, I/66, 68, 71, 73, 75, 76, 77, 88, 93, 94, 95, 96, 120

DROOM; DROMEN

somnium; somniare, I/79

DUIVEL

diabolus, I/88, 107, 108

DURING

duratio, I/33, 82, 102, 103, 104, 107, 112

EDELMOEDIGHEID; EDELMOEDIG

generositas (E, probably KV also); generosus

legitimate self-esteem (KV), I/68, 69, IV/92

EENHEID; VERENIGING; ENIG, EEN, EEN ENIG

unitas; unio; unicus, I/18, 23, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 33, 44, 52, 57, 59, 61, 62, 63, 81, 96, 97, 99, 100, 101, 102, 108

EENHEID, GODS

unitas Dei, I/23, 44

[VER]ENIGING MET GOD

union with God, I/34, 93, 100, 101, 102, 103, 105, 106, 108, 110, 111, 121

[VER]ENIGING VAN ZIEL EN LICHAAM

unio animae et corporis, I/81, 91, 93, 96, 97, 98, 101, 102, 103, 117

EENVOUDIGHEID; EENVOUDIG

simplicitas; simplex, I/22, 24, 44

EER

gloria (KV?), honor (E, TdIE), I/63, 74, 75, 77, 111

EEUWIGHEID, EEUWIG

aeternitas; aeternus, I/15, 27, 37, 44, 45, 52, 62, 64, 103, 105, 108, 109, 111, 112, IV/84

[VAN] EEUWIGHEID

ab aeterno, I/15, 33, 37, 38, 48, 101, 105

[VOOR] EEUWIG, IN EEUWIGHEID

in aeternum, I/15, 39, 48

EIGEN, EIGENHEID

proprium, I/4, 18, 27, 35, 40, 45

EIGENSCHAP

proprietas (usu.), attributum (usu. in KV), I/3, 4, 15, 17, 18, 19, 21, 22, 23, 24, 27, 28, 29, 32, 33, 34, 35, 39, 40, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 51, 53, 90, 91, 92, 96, 97, 98, 114, 115, 116, 117, 118, 119, 120, IV/94

EIND

finis, I/60, 61, 69, 88, 105, 111, IV/94, 115, 118

EINDIG, EINDELIJK

finitus, I/16, 18, 25, 26, 82, 117

ERBARMENIS

misericordia, I/58

ERVARENHEID, ERVARING

experientia, I/61, 100, 121

EUVELNEMING

indignatio, I/74

EVENMENS, EVENNAAST

proximus, I/75, 76, 77

EXISTEREN

existere, I/51

FILOSOOF; FILOSOOFS

philosophus; philosophice, I/26, 30, 57, 60, 81, IV/93, 146, 147, 148, 150

FLAUWMOEDIGHEID

pusillanimitas, I/70, 71, 72, 73

GEBED; BIDDEN

prex, I/107, 112, IV/112

GEBEURLIJKHEID; GEBEURLIJK

contingentia; contingens, I/4, 40, 41, 70

GEBOD

mandatum

command, IV/84

GEDAANTE

species, figura, forma, I/32, 44, 58, 85, 95, IV/91, 147

GEDULD

patientia

patience, IV/92

GEEST

mens, I/51, 89, 102, IV/154, 155

GEESTEN, DIERLIJKE

spiritus animales, I/74, 91, 92, 95, 96, 97, 98, 99, 102

GEHEEL; HEEL

whole; whole, I/24, 25, 28, 30, 31, 32, 33, 40, 63, 86, 87, 91, 96, 97, 101, 105, 111

GEHEUGENIS

memoria, I/68

GELIJK

aequus, similis, I/19, 20, 21, 36, 52, 53

GELOOF; GELOVEN

fides?, opinio?; credere

belief; to believe, I/54, 55, 59, 89

GELOOF, WARE

true belief, I/54, 59, 60, 61, 77, 78, 80, 88

GELUK; GELUKZALIGHEID; GELUKKIG

felicitas; felicitas (usu.), beatitudo (PP, Ep.); felix, I/88, 89, 108, 110, IV/156

GEMEENSCHAP

societas, consuetudo, communitas (KV?)

something in common, community, I/23, 28, 97, 105, 106, 110

GEMEEN BEST

common good, I/87

GEMOED

animus, IV/142, 149, 151

GENADE

grace, I/89

GENEREN

generare, I/20

GENIETING; GENIETEN

fruitio; frui, I/55, 58, 62, 63, 99, 100, 108, 109, 113

GESLACHT

genus, I/19, 20, 21, 22, 32, 33, 43, 48, 51, 53, 60, 90, 115, IV/91

GESLACHT EN ONDERSCHEID

[genus et differentia]

genus and difference, I/44, 46

GESLACHT, OPPERSTE

highest genus, I/46

GESTALT

forma, I/53, 71, 72, 79, 84, 89, 91, 96

GEVAL

casus, I/73

GEVOEL; GEVOELEN

sensus; sentire, I/29, 52, 55, 74, 79, 81, 83, 94, 98, 120, 121, IV/160

GEWAARWORDING; GEWAARWORDEN

perceptio; percipere, sentire, I/52, 56, 60, 64, 74, 79, 81, 83, 84, 85, 89, 90, 91, 93, 94, 95, 96, 101, 102, 105, 111

GEWROCHT

effectus, I/31, 33, 107, 110, 111, 112

GIERIGHEID; GIERIGAARD

avaritia; avarus, I/76, 111

GOD

Deus, I/3, 4, 8, 9, 10, 15, 16, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 26, 27, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 51, 53, 60, 61, 63, 64, 65, 68, 70, 74, 77, 78, 79, 82, 87, 88, 90, 97, 100, 101, 103, 104, 105, 106, 107, 108, 109, 110, 111, 112, 116, 117, 121, IV/88, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 138, 139, 147, 148, 149, 150, 151

GOD, NATUUR, WEZENHEID VAN

natura, essentia Dei, I/15, 32, 106, 111

GODDELIJKHEID; GODDELIJK

[divinitas]; divinus, I/19, 40, 107, 108

GODDELOOS

improbus, impius

godless, IV/92, 94, 109, 110, 138, 139, 148

GODGELEERDE

theologi, I/109

GODSDIENST

religio, cultus Dei, I/58, 88

GODZALIG

pius

godly, IV/109, 110

GOED; GOEDHEID

bonus, I/5, 19, 21, 22, 37, 38, 43, 49, 50, 55, 56, 57, 58, 60, 61, 62, 63, 65, 66, 68, 69, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 76, 77, 78, 80, 84, 85, 89, 94, 95, 96, 99, 100, IV/88, 142, 150

GOED, HET OPPERSTE

summum bonum, I/44, 45, 88, 109

GOED, IN OPZICHT VAN HET, ONDER SCHIJN VAN, GEDAANTE VAN

sub ratione boni, sub specie boni, I/58, 84

GOED, KENNIS VAN … EN KWAAD

cognitio boni et mali, I/60, 77

GRAMSCHAP

ira, I/74

GRONDREGEL

principle, I/16, 53

GUNST; BEGUNSTIGEN

favor; favere, I/76, 77

GULZIGHEID

avaritia, IV/92

HAAT; HATEN

odium; odio habere, I/29, 58, 65, 66, 67, 77, 87, 92, 94, 95, 108, IV/150

HEELAL

universus, I/4

HEIL; HEILIG

salus?; salutaris?, I/37, 67, 69, 70, 86, 88, 109, 110, 112

HEL

inferi, I/88

HERSCHEPPING, GEDURIGE

creatio continua, IV/88, 139

HOEDANIGHEID

qualitas

quality (usu.), character, I/62, 79, 112

HOOP; VERHOPEN

spes; sperare, I/70, 71, 72

HOREN ZEGGEN

auditus, I/54, 55, 57, 58, 61, 99

HOVAARDIGHEID

superbia, IV/92

IDEE, IDEA

idea, I/17, 42, 43, 49, 51, 52, 60, 74, 78, 79, 81, 82, 83, 84, 91, 96, 97, 98, 101, 102, 103, 116, 117, 118, 119, 120, 121

IDEA VAN GOD

idea Dei, I/15, 16, 17, 18, 36, 37, 101

IET

something, I/19, 21

IJDEL

vacuum, I/25

IMMEDIATE; IMMEDIATELIJK

immediatus, I/96, IV/82, 83, 84

INBEELDING; INBEELDEN

imaginatio; imaginari, I/84

INTENTIE

intentio

intention, IV/147

INVLOEIJING

influxus

influence, IV/83

KENNIS; KENNEN

cognitio, notio, scientia; cognoscere, I/46, 47, 51, 52, 54, 55, 56, 64, 77, 89, 101, 102, IV/82, 87, 117

bekend (gekend) door zich notum per se, I/46, 47, 101, 116

KENNIS, EVENMATIGE

cognitio adaequata, I/47

KENNIS, GODS, VAN GOD

cognitio Dei (obj. gen.), I/34, 46, 47, 64, 93, 100, 101, 102, 106, 107, 108, 109, IV/94, 142, 151, 156

KENNIS, KLARE, WARE

cognitio, claro, vera, I/55, 61, 100, 101

KENNIS, NATUURLIJKE

cognitio (scientia) naturalia, IV/97, 145

KENNIS VAN ZICH ZELF

cognitio sui ipsius, IV/151, 156

KLAAR EN ONDERSCHEIDEN(LIJK)

clarus et distinctus, I/15, 23, 44, 47, 48, 54, 81

[ALDER]KLAARSTE DINGEN

[res clarissima], I/78, 79

KLOEKMOEDIGHEID

animositas, I/71

KNAGING VAN ’T GEWETEN

conscientiae morsus, I/73

KRACHT

vis, virtus

power, I/30, 62, 64, 65, 82, 90, 91

KUNDIGHEID, TWEEDE

notio secunda, I/30

KWAAD; KWAADHEID

malus, pravus, I/4, 5, 37, 43, 46, 49, 50, 60, 66, 77, 84, 94, 99, IV/82, 83, 84, 88, 90, 98, 99, 100, 101, 102, 103, 107, 108, 109, 111, 112, 142, 147, 150, 151

KWAAD, ONDER SCHIJN VAN, ALS ’T KWAAD

sub ratione mali, I/84

KWESTIE

controversia

problem, IV/160

LACHEN

risus, I/74, 94

LASTER; LASTEREN

vituperium; vituperare, I/75

LEVEN; LEVEN

vita; vivere, I/57, 75, 88, 105, 109, IV/152

LICHAAM; LICHAMELIJK

corpus; corporeus, I/3, 17, 25, 26, 27, 29, 51, 52, 53, 89, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98, 99, 100, 101, 102, 117, 120, IV/154, 155

LIEFDE; LIEFHEBBEN

amor; amare, diligare, I/17, 28, 32, 34, 56, 57, 62, 63, 64, 65, 73, 76, 77, 87, 92, 94, 95, 100, 101, 102, 118, IV/93, 150

LIEFDE, GODS

amor Dei (subj. gen.), I/103, 104

LIEFDE VAN GOD, GODS

amor Dei (obj. gen.), I/64, 65, 77, 88, 89, 102, 108, 109, IV/94, 142, 151

LIJDING; LIJDEN; LIJDELIJK

passio (usu.), affectus (rar.), pathema (rar.); pati; patibilis, I/24, 26, 55, 56, 61, 79, 83, 92, 110, 111

LOF; PRIJZEN

laus; laudare, I/74, 75

LOGICA; LOGICI

logic; logicians, I/46

LOON

praemium, IV/93

LUST

appetitus, libido, I/58, 85, 86

MACHT; MACHTIG

potentia, potestas, vis; potens, I/16, 19, 62, 63, 64, 68, 69, 80, 89, 92, 95, 99, 100, 112, IV/86, 87

MACHT, GODS

potentia (potestas) Dei, I/19, 21, 38

MANNELIJK

manly, I/71

MEDEGEWETEN

conscientia

conscience, I/54

MEDEWERKING, GODS

concursus Dei, IV/83, 88

MENING; MENEN

opinio, sententia, mens; opinari, velle, intelligere, animus esse

opinion, meaning; think, mean, intend, I/19, 27, 43, IV/88, 95, 145, 146, 149, 150, 160, 161

MENS

homo, I/26, 40, 42, 43, 46, 49, 51, 53, 54, 73, 82, 98, 105, 106, 117, 120, IV/89, 151

MENS, VOLMAAKT

[homo perfectus], I/60, 61, 67, 72, 76, 80, 87, IV/148

MIRAKEL

miraculum, I/107

MOED

fortitudo?, I/70, 71, 73

MOEDERMOORD

matricidium

matricide, IV/147

MOGELIJKHEID; MOGELIJK

possibilitas, potestas; possibilis

possibility, power; possible, I/17, 19, 91, 99

NAAST

proximus, I/87, 111, 112

NATUUR

natura [= tota Natura], I/4, 22, 23, 24, 25?, 26, 27, 28, 38, 40, 46, 49, 64, 90, 96, 97, 98, 101, 104, 105, 116, 117

NATUUR, GENATUURDE

natura naturata, I/5, 47, 48

NATUUR, NATURENDE

natura naturans, I/5, 47

NATUUR, SCHIFTING VAN DE

nature, division of, I/46, 47, 116?

NATUUR, SCHIK EN LOOP VAN DE

order and course of Nature, I/86

NATUUR

natura [= essentia, constitutio], I/15, 17, 20, 25, 42, 53, 91

NATUUR, BIJZONDERE

natura singularis, IV/141, 142, 149

NEDERIGHEID

humilitas, I/68, 69

NEDERIGHEID, STRAFBARE

abjectio

self-depreciation, I/68, 69, 70

NEGATIE

negatio, IV/103

NEIGING

inclination, I/65, 76, 80, 84, 85

NIET

nihil, I/19, 21, 28, 83, 91, 107

NIJD, NIJDIGHEID

invidia, I/66, 74, 88, 108

NOODZAKELIJKHEID; NOODZAKELIJK

necessitas; necessarius, I/4, 17, 24, 34, 36, 37, 38, 41, 42, 62, 64, 68, 70, 71, 72, 74, 76, 81, 90, 97, 98, 100, 105, 107, 111, 115, 117, 118

NUT, NUTTIGHEID; NUTTIG, NUTTELIJK

utilitas; utile, I/49, 62, 66, 87, 89, 92

OMSTANDIGHEID

circumstantia, I/31, 33

ONBESCHAAMDHEID; ONBESCHAAMD

impudentia; impudens, I/74, 75, 76

ONDANKBARHEID

ingratitudo, I/76

ONDEELBAR

individuum, I/33

ONDERHOUDEN

conservare, I/29, 40, 105, IV/82, 93

ONDERSCHEID(ING); ONDERSCHEIDEN; ONDERSCHEIDEN; ONDERSCHEIDELIJK

distinctio; distinguere; distinctus; distincte, I/20, 44, 49, 68, 80, 81, 82, 84, 85, 95, 97, 99, 119, 121

ONDERSCHEID, DADELIJK

distinctio realis, I/81, 114, 115, 116, 118

ONDERSCHEID, TOEVALLIG, WIJZELIJK

distincto modalis, I/114, 115, 116

ONDERVINDING; ONDERVINDEN

experientia, experimentum; experiri, I/54, 55, 62, 99

ONDERWERP; ONDERWERPEN

subjectum; pati, I/17, 18, 24, 116, 119

ONEINDIGHEID; ONEINDIG, ONEINDELIJK

infinitas; infinitus, I/15, 16, 18, 19, 21, 23, 25, 26, 28, 29, 36, 44, 48, 51, 90, 105, 107, 111, 115, 116

oneindig in haar (zijn) geslacht infinitus in suo genere, I/3, 48, 90, 96

ONGEHOORSAM

inobediens

disobedient, IV/147

ONMIDDELIJK

immediate; immediatus, I/31, 33, 34, 36, 47, 48, 64, 111, 117, 118, 121

ONSTERFELIJKHEID; ONSTERFELIJK

immortalitas; immortalis, I/33, 78, 102, 121

ONTKENNING; ONTKENNEN

negatio; negare, I/28, 45, 70, 71, 78, 79, 80, 83, 84, 85, 111

ONTROERING (DES GEMOEDS) (VAN DES ZIEL)

commotio (animi) (animae), I/61, 95. See also beweging

ONTSTELTENIS DES GEMOEDS

commotio animi?, I/65, 66

ONVERANDERLIJKHEID, ONVERANDERLIJK

immutabilitas; immutabilis, I/15, 18, 27, 31, 36, 37, 39, 44, 45, 48, 78, 80, 96, 102, 103, 104, 117, 118

ONVERSCHILLENDHEID

indifferentia, IV/130

OORDEEL; OORDELEN

judicium; judicare, I/42, 95, 99

OORDEEL, OPSCHORTEN VAN,

judicium suspendere, IV/114, 116

OORZAAK; VEROORZAKEN

cause; causa esse (+ gen.), I/30, 41, 42, 44, 45, 64, 81, 82, 114, 115, IV/82, 84, 91, 93, 147

OORZAAK, ABSOLUTE

causa absoluta, IV/83, 117

OORZAAK, ALGEMENE

causa generalis, I/36

OORZAAK DOOR TOEVAL

causa per accidens, I/35

OORZAAK DOOR ZICH

causa per se, I/35

OORZAAK, EERSTE

causa prima, I/18, 36, 39, 42, 64, 74, 75, IV/84

OORZAAK, INBLIJVENDE

causa immanens, I/3, 26, 30, 31, 35, 110

OORZAAK, INNERLIJKE, INWENDIGE

causa interna, I/31, 33, 110

OORZAAK, MINVOORNAME

subsidiary cause, I/35

OORZAAK, MINVOORNAME BEGINNENDE

subsidiary initiating cause, I/36

OORZAAK, NAASTE

causa proxima, I/36

OORZAAK, NATUURLIJKE

natural cause, I/35

OORZAAK, NOODZAKELIJKE

necessary cause, I/4

OORZAAK, OVERGAANDE

causa transiens, I/30, 35

OORZAAK, UITVLOEIENDE, OF DARSTELLENDE

emanative or productive cause, I/35

OORZAAK, UITWENDIGE, UITTERLIJKE

causa externa, I/17, 18, 42, 81, 110, 111, 112

OORZAAK, VAN ZICH (ZIJN ZELFS)

causa sui, I/18, 36, 46, 47, 48, 86, 114, 115

OORZAAK, VERDER, LAATSTE

causa remota, I/31, 36

OORZAAK, VOORGAANDE

predisposing cause, I/36

OORZAAK, VOORNAME

causa principalis, I/35, 77

OORZAAK, VRIJE

causa libera, I/35, 38, 39, 63, 110

OORZAAK, WERKENDE

causa efficiens, I/35

OPENBARING

revelatio, IV/92, 93, 96, 118, 119, 120 121

OPINIE

opinio, I/57, 58, 66, 68, 72

ORDE DER NATUUR

ordo Naturae, I/64

ORDE EN GEVOLG VAN OORZAAKEN

orde et series causorum, I/72

OVERALTEGENWOORDIGHEID, GODS; OVERAL

ubiquitas (Dei); ubique, I/44

PARABEL

parabola, IV/93, 118

PASSIE

passio, I/58, 59, 60, 61, 65, 66, 77, 88, 89, 94, 95, 99, IV/114

PIJN, PIJNLIJKHEID; PIJNLIJK

dolor, I/96, 120

PLICHT

officium, I/109

POGING; POGEN

conatus; conari, I/40, IV/82, 83, 84

POSITIEF

positivus, IV/156

PREDESTINATIE

predestination, I/4, 35, 36, 40

PROFEET

propheta, IV/92, 93, 118, 119, 120

RECHT; RECHTVAARDIGHEID; RECHTVAARDIG

jus; justitia, justus, I/38, 42, 78, 87, IV/137, 140, 149, 150

RECHTER

judex, I/87, IV/112, 138, 139

REDEN; REDENEREN; REDENERING; REDELIJK

ratio; ratiocinari; ratiocinium; rationalis, I/28, 29, 30, 55, 58, 59, 63, 65, 66, 67, 73, 74, 77, 99, 121, IV/114

REGEERDER

ruler, I/27

REGEL

regula, I/42, 54, 55, 59, 78, 99, 100, 104

RIJKDOM

divitiae, I/63

ROERING

motus, I/35

RUST; RUSTEN

quies

rest, peace; to be at rest, content, I/26, 29, 64, 65, 91, 97, 98, 102, 108, 109, 121

SAMENLOPEN

concurrere, comitari

to concur (with), to accompany, IV/83, 98, 107, 108, 109

SCHAAMTE

pudor?, I/75, 76

SCHRIK

fright, I/88

SCHELMSTUK

facinus, scelus

(act of) knavery, I/261, IV/112, 137, 138, 140, 141, 142, 147, 149, 150, 152

SCHEPPING; SCHEPPEN; GESCHAPEN; SCHEPSEL

creatio; creare (usu.), procreare (occ.); creatus; creatura, I/20, 21, 22, 23, 30, 33, 36, 37, 38, 42, 43, 48, 82, 117, IV/82, 90, 98

SCHEPPING, GEDURIGE

creatio continua, I/82, IV/82, 88

SCHRIFTUUR

scriptura, IV/92, 118

STAND

status, I/4, 67, 69, 87, IV/82, 89, 91, 97, 98, 99, 100, 101, 102, 103, 104, 107, 108, 109, 111, 115, 116

STELEN

furtum committere

steal, IV/140, 149, 156

STELLIG

positivus, IV/88, 91, 147

STILTE

quies, I/98, 99

STOF

materia, I/25, 36, 48, 53

STOF, DEEL VAN DE

pars materiae, I/25

STOUTHEID

animositas?, I/70, 73

STRAF; STRAFFEN

poena, supplicium; punire, I/87, IV/93, 112

SUBJECT

subjectum, IV/151

THEOLOGIE

theologia, IV/146, 148

TIJDELIJK

temporary, I/96, 108

TOCHT

passio, I/61, 70, 72, 76, 77, 90, 99

TOEKOMEND

futurus, IV/93

TOESTEMMEN

assentiri, IV/116, 117

TOEVAL; TOEVALLIG

accidens, modificatio (rar.); accidentalis, modaliter (rar.), I/63, 77, 114, 115

TOEVLUCHT DER ONWETENHEID

asylum ignorantiae, I/261

TOEVOEGING; TOEVOEGEN

affectio?; tribuere, I/79

TOORN, TOORNIGHEID; TOORNIG OP … ZYN

ira; irasci, I/65, 66, 108

TRACHTEN

conari, I/62, 66, 67, 87

TWIJFEL, TWIJFELING; TWIJFELEN; TWIJFELACHTIG

dubitatio; dubitare; dubius, I/36, 49, 73, 79, 87

TWIJFELAAR; TWIJFELDOM

scepticus; scepticismus, I/70

UITDRUKKEN

exprimere, IV/89, 90, 91

UITGEBREIDHEID; UITGEBREID

extensio; extensa, I/23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 44, 48, 51, 52, 82, 90, 91, 92, 114, 116, 117, 120, IV/154

UITSTEKENDILIJK

eminenter, I/18, 90

UITWERKING

effectus, actio?, I/45, 54, 55, 66, 87, 89, 90, 91, 93, 94, 101, 102, 103, 115

UITWERKSEL

effectus, I/30, 36, 48

VALSHEID; VALS

falsitas; falsus, I/78, 79, 80, 83, 84

VAN ACHTEREN, AFTEREN

a posteriori, I/15, 18, 47, 48

VAN VOREN

a priori, I/15, 18, 45, 47

VERACHTING; VERACHTEN

despectus, contemptus (KV?); contemnere, I/69, 70, 76

VERANDERING; VERANDEREN; VERANDERLIJK

mutatio, variatio; mutari, I/18, 19, 32, 37, 52, 64, 67, 77, 79, 80, 95, 97, 102, 103, 104, 111, 112, 118, 119

VERBEELDING; VERBEELDEN

imaginatio, phantasia; imaginari, I/30, 44

VERBOD; VERBIEDEN

mandatum, edictum; ediceree

prohibition; prohibit, IV/88, 93, 120

VERDERF, VERDERVING

destructio, corruptio

destruction, I/18, 29, 57, 67, 70, 86, 108, 111, IV/93, 119

VERDRAAGZAAMHEID

forbearance, I/11

VERDRIET

taedium

sorrow, IV/148, 150

VERENIGING; VERENIGEN

unio, I/23, 31, 32, 33, 34, 52, 59, 61, 62, 63, 81, 91, 96, 97, 98, 99, 100, 101, 102, 105, 106, 110, 111, 112, 117, 118, 119

VERGAAN; VERGANKELIJK

corruptibilis

perish; corruptible, I/26, 33, 43, 62, 63, 77, 110, 111

VERGENOEGING

acquiescentia, IV/156

VERGETENHEID

forgetfulness, I/29

VERHOOVAARDIGING; ZICH VERHOOVAARDIGEN

superbia; superbire, I/87

VERMAAK

delectatio, gratia

pleasure, IV/148, 150

VERNIETIGING; VERNIETIGEN

destructio; destruere, I/15, 18, 26, 40, 110, 111, 117, 118, 119

VERRASSING

surprise, I/73

VERSCHEIDENHEID; VERSCHEIDEN

diversitas; diversus, plus (KV?), distinctus (KV?), I/18, 23, 25, 28, 29, 33, 52, 114

VERSIERING, VERSIERSEL; VERSIEREN

fictio; fingere, I/16, 17, 83, 88, 108

VERSMADING, VERSMAADHEID

contemptus, I/68, 75

VERSTAND; VERSTAAN

intellectus (usu.), captus (occ.), ingenium (occ.); intelligere, I/11, 15, 16, 17, 18, 23, 24, 25, 26, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 35, 45, 46, 48, 49, 53, 54, 55, 60, 63, 64, 67, 68, 73, 77, 79, 81, 83, 84, 85, 89, 95, 99, 100, 102, 105, 106, 108, 109, 111, 112, IV/103, 104, 105, 106, 111, 113, 114, 115, 116, 117, 120, 121, 123, 145, 146

VERSTAND, GODS

intellectus Dei, I/39, 42, IV/90, 91

VERSTAND, ONEINDELIJKE

intellectus infinitus, I/20, 21, 22, 23, 101, 116

VERSTANING

intellectus?, I/114

VERTONING

appearance, manifestation, I/93, 100

VERWAANDHEID; VERWAAND (EN HOVAARDIG) WORDEN; VERWAAND

superbia; superbire, superbus, I/68, 69, 70

VERVAARDHEID

consternatio?

consternation, I/70, 72

VERWARRING; VERWARREN; VERWARD; VERWARDELIJK

confusio; confundere; confusus; confuse, I/30, 31, 42, 43, IV/148

VERWONDERING; VERWONDEREN

admiratio, stupor; admirari, I/56, 57, 61, 62, 67, IV/89

VERZAMELING, DE GEHELE … DER DINGEN

the totality of things, I/4

VERZEKERDHEID

securitas, I/70, 71, 72

VOLGIJVER

aemulatio, I/70, 71, 73

VOLHARDEN

perseverare, IV/82

VOLK, HET GEMEEN

plebs (Ep.), vulgus (elsewhere), populus (Ep.)

the (ordinary) people, IV/92, 119, 120

VOLMAAKTHEID; VOLMAAKT

perfectio; perfectus, I/3, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 26, 28, 29, 36, 37, 38, 39, 42, 43, 44, 49, 51, 60, 64, 65, 67, 69, 70, 87, 96, 108, 111, 115, 116, IV/89, 90, 91, 94, 97, 98, 99, 100, 101, 102, 103, 104, 105, 106, 107, 108, 109, 110, 111, 112, 115, 116, 117, 136, 137, 138, 139, 140, 148, 150, 152, 156. See also mens, volmaakt

VOLMAAKST, ’T ALDERVOLMAAKST; TEN HOOGSTEN, OPPERSTEN VOLMAAKT

perfectissimum; summe perfectum, I/19, 28, 42, 88

VOLMAAKTHEID, UITSTEKENDE

perfectio eminens

eminent perfection, I/33

VOORBEPALEN

predetermine, I/37, 38

VOORBESCHIKKING; VOORBESCHIKKER

predetermination; predeterminer, I/4, 27

VOORDEEL

utile, I/72, 74, 78, 109

VOORTBRENGING; VOORTBRENGEN

generatio; producere, procreare, I/3, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 90

VOORTGANG

conservatio, IV/139

VOORWERP; VOORWERPIG; VOORWERPIGLIJK

objectum; objectivus; objective, I/16, 61, 62, 63, 64, 79, 93, 94, 95, 97, 116, 117, 118, 119, 120

VOORZICHTIGHEID

prudentia, IV/144

VOORZIENIGHEID, VOORZORG; VOORZORGER

providentia

providence; provider, I/4, 40, 42, 43, IV/87, 88

VORM; VORMELIJKHEID; VORMELIJK

forma; formalitas; formaliter, I/15, 16, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 117, 118

VREES; VRESEN

metus, timor; timere, I/58, 70, 71, 72, 88

VRIENDSCHAP

amicitia, IV/86, 87

VRIJHEID; VRIJ; VRIJWILLIG

libertas; liberus; libere, I/35, 37, 39, 62, 75, 77, 80, 81, 82, 83, 85, 86, 104, 109, 110, 111, 112, IV/116, 117, 143, 152, 154

VROLIJKHEID; VROLIJK

hilaritas

cheerfulness; merry, I/92, 121

VROOM

probus

pious, IV/92, 94, 110, 136, 138, 139, 140, 148, 151

WAAN, WAANBEGRIP; WANEN

opinio (usu.), error (occ.?); opinari, I/44, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 66, 68, 69, 74, 75, 80, 89, 96, 99

WAARHEID; WAAR; WAARLIJK

veritas; verus; vere, I/11, 17, 24, 30, 59, 63, 70, 73, 78, 79, 84, 112, IV/86, 87

WAARSCHIJNLIJK

probable, I/45

WANGUNST; WANGUNSTIG

invidia (?), I/20, 21

WANHOOP

desperatio, I/70, 71, 72, 88, IV/92

WANKELMOEDIGHEID

fluctuatio animi, I/70, 71, 72, 73

WEDERGEBOORTE

rebirth, I/102

WELLUST

libido, I/63, 109, 111, IV/136, 137, 138, 139, 149

WELSTAND

salus?

well-being, I/11, 40, 80, 86, 88, 89, 100, 104, 105

WERELD

mundus, I/73, 109, IV/151

WERKING, WERK; WERKEN; WERKER

actio, operatio, facinus, opus, effectus (rar.); agere, operari; agens?, I/26, 35, 36, 49, 50, 61, 65, 66, 74, 75, 87, 94, 107, 110, IV/82, 100, 106, 107, 108, 110, 137, 138, 139, 140, 141, 148, 149, 150, 151

WET

lex, IV/92, 93, 141

WET, MENSELIJK

lex humana, I/89, 104, 105

WET, VAN DE NATUUR, GODDELIJK

lex Naturae, divina, I/88, 104, 105, IV/149

WETENSCHAP, WETEN; WETEN

scientia; scire, I/43, 54, 59, 78

WETENSCHAP, GODS

scientia Dei, I/43

WEZENHEID; WEZEN; ESSENTIEËLIJK

essentia; ens; essentiâ, I/4, 15, 17, 19, 23, 28, 31, 32, 40, 43, 46, 49, 51, 64, 79, 80, 90, 96, 97, 107, 110, 111, 116, IV/89, 90, 100, 110, 112, 137, 138, 139, 147, 149, 152

WEZEN, DADELIJK

ens reale, I/24, 49, 60, 81, 82, 83

WEZEN VAN REDEN

ens rationis, I/5, 24, 49, 60, 61, 81, 82, 83

WEZENHEID, BIJZONDERE

essentia particularis, I/24

WEZENHEID, DADELIJK

essentia actualis, I/64

WEZENHEID, VOORWERPIGE

essentia objectiva, I/18

WEZENLIJKHEID; WEZENLIJK ZIJN; WEZENLIJK

existentia; existere; realis?, I/17, 18, 22, 24, 41, 42, 51, 52, 96, 97, 116, 119, IV/100, 140

WEZENLIJKHEID, GODS

existentia Dei, I/15, 16, 17, 18

WEZENLIJK ZIJN, DOOR ZICH

existere per se, I/20

WIJSBEGEERTE; WIJSGEER

philosophia; philosophus, I/11

WIJSHEID, WIJS

sapientia; sapiens, I/44, 45

WIJZ(ING)

modus, methodus, I/24, 25, 26, 29, 45, 46, 47, 48, 51, 52, 53, 62, 64, 81, 105, 106, 117, 118, 119, 120

WIL; WILLING, TE WILLEN; WILLEN

voluntas; volitio; velle, I/42, 56, 80, 81, 82, 83, 84, 85, IV/82, 83, 90, 103, 104, 105, 106, 111, 113, 114, 116, 124, 143

WIL, GODS

voluntas Dei, I/19, 37, 38, 39, IV/83, 88, 90, 98, 99, 100, 118, 119, 138, 139, 140, 141, 142, 143

WOORD

verbum, I/30, 79, 83, 106, 107

ZAAK; ZAKELIJK

res; reale, I/16, 18, 24, 27, 30, 31, 40, 41, 43, 45, 46, 49, 50, 55, 59, 64, 81, 82, 96, 97, 103, 104, 107, 110, IV/150

ZAAK, DENKENDE

res cogitans, I/45, 48, 52, 97, 98, 101, 103, 108

ZAAK, VAN REDEN

ens rationis, I/42

ZALIGHEID; ZALIG

beatitudo, salus; beatus, I/100, IV/92, 93, 119, 150

ZEDENKUNST; ZEDEN (EN GEWOONTEN)

ethica; mores, I/11, 58

ZELFSTANDIGHEID; ZELFSTANDIG

substantia; substantivus, I/3, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 29, 35, 44, 45, 46, 47, 51, 52, 53, 81, 96, 114, 115, 116, IV/82, 84, 154, 155

ZELFSTANDIGHEID, BEPAALDE

limited substance, I/19, 20, 51

ZELFSTANDIGHEID, DENKENDE

substantia cogitans, I/29

ZELFSTANDIGHEID, EINDIGE

substantia finita, I/82

ZELFSTANDIGHEID, UITGEBREIDE

substantia extensa, I/28, 29

ZELFSTANDIGHEID, VERSTANDELIJKE

substantia intellectualis

intellectual substance, IV/143

ZELFSTANDIGHEID, VERSTANDIGE

substantia intellectualis?, I/28, 29

ZIEL; BEZIELT

anima, mens; animatus, I/3, 17, 51, 52, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98, 99, 101, 102, 103, 117, 118, 119, 120, 121, IV/82, 83, 143, 154, 155

ZIJN

esse, I/17

ZIJN, IN ZICH

esse in se, I/18

ZIN

sensus, I/87

ZINNELIJKHEID

sensual pleasure, I/109

ZONDE; ZONDIGEN

peccatum; peccare, I/4, 42, 43, 46, 89, 108, IV/88, 90, 99, 113

Index of Proper Names

THIS INDEX covers only references (direct and indirect) to Spinoza’s predecessors and contemporaries, made by Spinoza, his correspondents, or the editor, in the text, notes, and prefaces. It excludes editorial references in the Glossary-Index and to subsequent philosophers and commentators in the notes and prefaces. References in the text are indexed by the Gebhardt page numbers. Editorial references are prefixed by “(ed.)” and are indexed by the pagination of this edition.

Aquinas, Thomas, I/18 (ed.) 29n, 67n, 82n, 87n, 88n, 89n, 91n, 306n, 320n, 321n, 333-336nn, 342n, 344n, 437n, 451n

Archimedes, I/205

Aristotle, I/42, 56n, 235, 259, 278 (ed.) 8n, 42n, 126n, 272n, 325n, 344n, 421n, 473n, 474n, 528n, 564n

Averroes, (ed.) 87n

Bacon, Francis, IV/6, 8, 9, 25, 67 (ed.) 11n, 12n, 16n, 167n, 169n

Balling, Pieter, IV/41 (ed.) x, 50, 224, 239n, 254n, 351, 405, 406, 409n, 413n, 414n, 430n, 440n, 442n, 443n, 448n, 523n

Blyenbergh, Willem van, IV/79, 86, 96, 126, 134, 145, 153, 160 (ed.) 349-352

Boe, Franciscus de le, (ed.) 574n

Borelli, Giovanni, IV/39, 40, 44 (ed.) 191n

Bouwmeester, Johannes, IV/162 (ed.) 5, 351

Boyle, Robert, IV/6, 15, 37, 48, 50, 51, 64, 66, 69-71, 73-75, 158, 159 (ed.) 159-161, 164n, 173n, 174n, 178n, 179n, 180n, 181n, 182n, 183n, 184n, 185n, 186n, 187n, 198n, 199n, 200n, 213n, 214n, 216n, 265n

Bruno, Giordano, (ed.) 73n

Burgersdijk, Franco, (ed.) 80n, 82n, 223, 318n, 319n

Buridan, John, II/133 (ed.) 487n

Cajetan, (ed.) 302n

Calvin, Jean, (ed.) 82n, 84n, 85n

Casearius, IV/39, 42, 63 (ed.) 190n, 193n, 207n

Cats, Jacob, (ed.) 574n

Cicero, II/202 (ed.) 443n, 541n

Clavius, Christopher, IV/40 (ed.) 191n

Crescas, Chasdai, IV/61 (ed.) 102n, 205n

Descartes, René, I/47, 128-133, 141-147, 151, 154-156, 158-163, 167, 171, 174, 181-184, 190-192, 195, 201, 202, 208, 211, 212, 218, 219, 225, 226, 240, 257, II/137, 278-280, IV/6, 8, 9, 18, 24, 25, 34, 49, 50, 63, 66, 67, 72, 75, 81, 83, 116, 124, 129-133, 135, 143, 154, 155, 159 (ed.) xx, 5-6, 16n, 26n, 28n, 29n, 31n, 48, 63n, 65n, 67n, 71n, 82n, 87n, 99n, 102n, 105n, 107n, 110n, 111n, 115n, 124n, 125n, 159, 161, 175n, 185n, 196n, 204n, 216n, 221-224, 232-234nn, 236n, 238-241nn, 243n, 248n, 250n, 253n, 254n, 256n, 258n, 260-266nn, 268n, 273n, 275-277nn, 280-285nn, 287-291nn, 295-298nn, 300n, 303n, 307n, 310-313nn, 315n, 316n, 320n, 321n, 324n, 335n, 341n, 342n, 345n, 422n, 423n, 437n, 438n, 440n, 447n, 449n, 459n, 460n, 473n, 474n, 484-486nn, 492n, 495n, 499-501nn, 526n, 531-533nn, 553-555nn, 596n

Diogenes Laertius, (ed.) 270n, 272n

Diogenes the Cynic, I/192, 196 (ed.) 270n

Ebreo, Leone, (ed.) 105n

Euclid, I/129, 204n, 206, II/12 (ed.) xiin, 452n

Gassendi, Pierre, IV/50 (ed.) 216n

Glazemaker, Jan Hendrik, (ed.) xn, 405, 406, 413n, 414n, 448n, 509n, 523n

Gongora, II/240 (ed.) 569n

Heereboord, Adriaan, I/279 (ed.) 80n, 82n, 88n, 223, 301n, 302n, 304n, 306n, 320n, 334n, 337n, 340n, 341n, 345n

Hobbes, Thomas, IV/37 (ed.) 27n, 31n, 34n, 40n, 48, 82n, 90n, 189n, 459n, 460n, 474n, 500n, 533n, 554n

Hooke, Robert, (ed.) 393n

Huyghens, Christiaan, IV/159

Jelles, Jarig, (ed.) 50, 59n, 130n, 408n, 448n

Leibniz, Gottfried Wilhelm, (ed.) 410n

Linus, Francis(cus), IV/37, 70 (ed.) 214n

Lucretius, (ed.) 181n, 277n

Luther, Martin, (ed.) 82n

Maimonides, Moses, (ed.) 87n, 88n, 205n, 318n, 326n, 331n, 413n, 443n, 451n, 462n, 476n

Marcus Aurelius, (ed.) 6

Melissus, (ed.) 270n

Mersenne, Marin, (ed.) 260n, 277n, 312n, 342n, 449n

Meyer, Lodewijk, IV/52, 72, 124, 133, 160, Letter 12a (ed.) 46n, 47n, 161-162, 206n, 221, 224, 227n, 253n, 269n, 290n, 381n

More, Henry, (ed.) 264n, 268n, 274n, 282n, 321n

Morin, Jean-Baptiste, (ed.) 282n

Moses, II/261

Oldenburg, Henry, IV/5, 7, 10, 12, 14, 15, 37, 48, 63, 73, 158, 159, 401 (ed.) 159-160, 164n, 166n, 171n, 401

Ovid, II/164, 221 (ed.) 27n, 413n, 512n, 543n, 554n, 591n

Parmenides, (ed.) 270n

Pascal, Blaise, (ed.) 187n

Plato, I/42, 235 (ed.) 336n, 533n, 584n, 608n

Saadia, (ed.) 495n

Scotus, Duns, (ed.) 318n

Seneca, II/224 (ed.) 518n, 534n, 564n, 584n

Serrarius, Pieter, IV/70, 75, 158, 159 (ed.) 6, 213n

Suarez, Francisco, (ed.) 302n, 304n, 316n, 320n, 329n, 333n, 334n, 336n

Tacitus, (ed.) 576n

Tacquet, Andreas, IV/40 (ed.) 191n

Terence, (ed.) 165n, 210n, 492n, 497n, 535n, 541n, 554n, 572n, 576n, 577n, 590n, 593n, 603n

Toricelli, Evangelista, (ed.) 187n

Tschirnhaus, Ehrenfried Walther von, (ed.) 154n, 204n

Vries, Simon de, IV/38, 42, 47, 73 (ed.) 161

Witt, Cornelis, and Jan de, (ed.) 576n

Zabarella, Jacobus, (ed.) 476n

Zeno of Elea, I/192-195 (ed.) 270n

Index of Biblical and Talmudic References

Genesis 2:15-3:24, II/261, IV/83-84, 88-94, 120; 25:23, I/264; 42:15-16, I/260

Exodus 14:21, I/36; 265; 20:2, I/106

II Samuel 17:14, I/247

I Kings 13:2, I/266; 22:19ff., IV/132

II Kings 23:16, I/266

Psalms 16:9, II/303; 42:2-3, IV/123; 73:24, II/303

Ecclesiastes 1:18, II/221; 3:18-19, IV/127

Isaiah 29:16, I/265; 45:9, I/265; 59:2, I/256

Matthew 22:37-40, IV/133

Romans 9:11-12, I/264; 9:18-21, I/265

Babylonian Talmud, Berachot 61b, I/109, II/307

1 This was suggested to me partly by the Glossary in McKeon 1.

2 In this volume, that means, in practice, the Short Treatise and Letters 18, 19, 20, 22, 23, 24, and 27. A Dutch term occurring in a predominantly Latin context (e.g., in additions made in Balling’s translation of Descartes’ Principles, or in interpolations into the Ethics from the NS) will be indexed here only if an occurrence of its Latin correlate is not already noted for the Gebhardt page.

3 For my policy regarding these terms, see the note at II/195/20.

Reference List

Akkerman, Hubbeling, and Westerbrink (AHW). Spinoza. Briefwisseling. Translated and edited by F. Akkerman, H. G. Hubbeling and A. G. Westerbrink. Amsterdam: Wereldbibliotheek, 1977.

Akkerman, Hubbeling, Mignini, Petry and van Suchtelen (AHMPS). Spinoza. Korte Geschriften. Amsterdam: Wereldbibliotheek, 1982. Contains translations of Descartes’ “Principles,” the Metaphysical Thoughts, the Treatise on the Emendation of the Intellect, and new editions of the Short Treatise, Algebraic Calculations on the Rainbow, and Calculation of Chances.

Akkerman 1. F. Akkerman. Spinoza’s tekort aan woorden. Mededelingen vanwege het Spinozahuis XXXVI. Leiden: Brill, 1977.

Ackkerman 2. Studies in the Posthumous Works of Spinoza, on style, earliest translation and reception, and modern edition of some texts. Thesis defended at the University of Groningen in 1980. Published by Krips Repro Meppel.

Alquié. F. Aliquié, ed. Oeuvres philosophiques de Descartes. 3 vols. Paris: Garnier, 1963-1973.

Appuhn. Oeuvres de Spinoza. Translated and edited by C. Appuhn. 4 vols. I: Court traité, Traité de la réforme de l’entendement, Principes de la philosophie de Descartes, Pensées métaphysiques; II: Traité théologico-politique; III: Ethique; IV: Traité politique, Lettres. Paris: Garnier, 1964.

Anscombe and Geach. Descartes, Philosophical Writings. Translated by E. Anscombe and P. Geach. London: Nelson, 1969.

Aquinas 1. St. Thomas Aquinas. Summa theologiae. 60 vols. Blackfriars edition. London: Eyre & Spottiswoode, 1964-1966.

Aquinas 2. Summa contra gentiles. 4 vols. Paris: P. Lethielleux, 1961.

Avenarius. R. Avenarius. Uber die beiden ersten Phasen des spinozistischen Pantheismus. Leipzig, 1868.

Bacon. Francis Bacon. Opera. Edited by J. Spedding, R. L. Ellis, and D. D. Heath. 15 vols. Boston 1857-1876.

Barnes. J. Barnes. The Presocratic Philosophers. 2 vols. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1979.

Bayle. P. Bayle. Historical and Critical Dictionary. Selected and translated by R. Popkin. Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill, 1965.

Bennett 1. J. Bennett. “A Note on Descartes and Spinoza.” Philosophical Review 74 (1965):379-380.

Bennett 2. A Study of Spinoza’s “Ethics.” Indianapolis: Hackett, 1984.

Bidney. D. Bidney. The Psychology and Ethics of Spinoza. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1940.

Boehm. R. Boehm. “ ‘Dieses war die Ethic und zwar Niederlandisch, wie sie Spinoza anfangs verferttiget,’—Spinozas ‘Korte Verhandeling,’ eine Übersetzung aus einem lateinischen Urtext?” Studia Philosophica Gandensia 5 (1967): 175-206.

Bouillier. F. Bouillier. Histoire de la philosophie cartésienne. 2 vols. 1868. Reprint. Geneva: Slatkine, 1970.

Boyle 1. Robert Boyle. New Experiments, touching the spring of the air and its effects (made, for the most part in a new pneumatical engine). Oxford, 1660.

Boyle 2. Certain Physiological Essays, written at distant times, and on several occasions. London, 1661.

Boyle 3. Tentamina quaedam physiologica, diversis temporibus et occasionibus conscripta. London, 1661. A Latin translation of Boyle 2.

Boyle 4. The Sceptical Chemist. London, 1661.

Boyle 5. Chymista scepticus. London, 1662. A Latin translation of Boyle 4.

Burgersdijk. F. Burgersdijk, Institutionum metaphysicarum libri duo. Edited by A. Heereboord. London, 1653.

Calvin. J. Calvin. Institutes of the Christian Religion. Edited and translated by J. T. McNeill and F. L. Battles. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1967.

Cassirer. E. Cassirer. Das Erkenntnisproblem in der Philosophie und Wissenschaft der neueren Zeit. 2 vols. Berlin: B. Cassirer, 1911.

Chronicon Spinozanum. 5 vols. The Hague: Spinoza Society, 1921-1927.

Cohen. I. B. Cohen. “ ‘Quantum in se est’: Newton’s Concept of Inertia in Relation to Descartes and Lucretius.” Notes and Records of the Royal Society of London 19 (1964):131-155.

Conant. J. B. Conant. Robert Boyle’s Experiments in Pneumatics. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1958.

Cottingham. J. Cottingham. Descartes’ Conversation with Burman. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1976.

Crommelin. C. A. Crommelin. Spinoza’s natuurwetenschappelijk denken. Mededelingen vanwege het Spinozahuis VI. Leiden: Brill, 1939.

Curley 1. E. M. Curley. “Notes on the Immortality of the Soul in Spinoza’s Short Treatise.” Giornale, 327-336.

Curley 2. “Experience in Spinoza’s Theory of Knowledge.” In Grene, 25-59.

Curley 3. Spinoza’s Metaphysics. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1969.

Curley 4. “Spinoza’s Moral Philosophy.” In Grene, 354-376.

Curley 5. “Descartes, Spinoza and the Ethics of Belief.” In Mandelbaum and Freeman, 159-189.

Curley 6. “Recent Work on 17th Century Continental Philosophy.” American Philosophical Quarterly 11 (1974):235-255.

Curley 7. “Spinoza as an Expositor of Descartes.” In Hessing, 133-142.

Curley 8. Descartes Against the Skeptics. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1978.

Curley 9. “Spinoza on Truth.” In Tucker.

Curley 10. “Descartes on the Creation of the Eternal Truths.” Philosophical Review 569-597 (October 1984).

Curley 11. “Leibniz on Locke on Personal Identity.” In Leibniz: Critical and Interpretive Essays. Edited by M. Hooker. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1982.

DeFerrari and Barry. R. Deferrari and M. Barry. A Lexicon of St. Thomas Aquinas. 5 vols. Washington, D.C.: Catholic University of America Press, 1948.

Delbos. V. Delbos. Le spinozisme. Paris: Vrin, 1964.

de Deugd. C. de Deugd. The Significance of Spinoza’s First Kind of Knowledge. Assen: Van Gorcum, 1966.

de Dijn. H. de Dijn. Review of Curley (3). Tijdschrift voor filosofie 32 (1970):335-338.

Dibon. P. Dibon. “Notes bibliographiques sur les cartésiens hollandais.” In Dijksterhuis, 261-300.

Dijksterhuis. E. J. Dijksterhuis et al. Descartes et le cartésianisme hollandais. Paris: PUF, 1950.

Dilthey. W. Dilthey. “Die Autonomie des Denkens, der konstruktive Rationalismus und der pantheistische Monismus nach ihrem Zusammenhang im 17. Jahrhundert.” Archiv für Geschichte der Philosophie 7 (1894):28-91.

Diogenes Laertius. Diogenes Laertius. The Lives of the Philosophers. Translated by R. D. Hicks. 2 vols. London: W. Heineman, 1925.

Donagan 1. A. Donagan. “Essence and the Distinction of Attributes in Spinoza’s Metaphysics.” In Grene, 164-181.

Donagan 2. “A Note on Spinoza, Ethics, I, 10.” Philosophical Review 75 (1966):380-382.

Donagan 3. “Spinoza’s Proof of Immortality.” In Grene, 241-258.

Dunin-Borkowski. S. von Dunin-Borkowski. Spinoza. 4 vols. Munster: Aschendorff, 1933.

Eisenberg 1. B. de Spinoza. Treatise on the Improvement of the Understanding. Translated, with a preface, notes and index by Paul D. Eisenberg. Philosophy Research Archives, 5 July 1977.

Eisenberg 2. “Is Spinoza an Ethical Naturalist?” In Hessing, 145-164.

Eisenberg 3. “How to Understand De Intellectus Emendatione.” Journal of the History of Philosophy 9 (1971): 171-191.

Ellis. B. Ellis. “The Origin and Nature of Newton’s Laws of Motion.” In Beyond the Edge of Certainty, edited by R. Colodny. Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1965.

Feuer. L.S. Feuer. Spinoza and the Rise of Liberalism. Boston: Beacon Press, 1958.

Fischer. K. Fischer. Geschichte der neueren Philosophie. 5th ed. Heidelberg: Carl Winter, 1909.

Freudenthal 1. J. Freudenthal. Die Lebensgeschichte Spinoza’s in Quellenschriften, Urkunden und nichtamtlichen Nachrichten. Leipzig, 1899.

Freudenthal 2. “Spinozastudien.” In Zeitschrift für Philosophie und philosophische Kritik 108:238-282; 109:1-25.

Freudental 3. “Spinoza und die Scholastik.” In Philosophische Aufsätze E. Zeller gewidmet. Leipzig, 1887.

Freudenthal 4. Critique of Fischer. Zeitschrift für Philosophie.

Freudenthal 5. Spinoza: Leben und Lehre. Heidelberg: Carl Winter, 1927.

Garber and Cohen. D. Garber and L. Cohen. “A Point of Order: Analysis, Synthesis and Descartes’s Principles.” Archiv für Geschichte der Philosophie 64 (1982).

Gebhardt 1. C. Gebhardt. “Rembrandt und Spinoza.” Chronicon Spinozanum, 4:160-183.

Gebhardt 2. “Spinoza und der Platonismus.” Chronicon Spinozanum, 1:178-234.

Gebhardt 3. Spinozas Abhandlung über die Verbesserung des Verstandes. Heidelberg, 1905.

Giancotti Boscherini 1. E. Giancotti Boscherini and G. Crapulli. Ricerche lessicali su opere di Descartes e Spinoza. Roma: Ateneo, 1969.

Giancotti Boscherini 2. Lexicon spinozanum. 2 vols. The Hague: M. Nijhoff, 1970.

Gilson 1. E. Gilson. Index Scolastico-Cartésien. New York: Burt Franklin, n.d.

Gilson 2. “Spinoza interprète de Descartes.” In Chronicon Spinozanum, 3:68-87.

Giornale. Giornale critico della filosofia italiana 56, nos. 3-4 (1977). A special tercentennial number devoted to Spinoza, with articles by van der Bend, Caillois, Corsano, Curley, de Dijn, Floistad, Giancotti Boscherini, Guzzo, Hubbeling, Iljenkov and Naumenko, McShea, Matheron, Misrahi, Motroshilova, Mugnier-Pollet, Préposiet, Saccaro Battisti, Semerari, Sokolov, de Vries, and Zac.

Gouhier. H. Gouhier. La pensée métaphysique de Descartes. Paris: Vrin, 1962.

Grene. M. Grene, ed. Spinoza, a collection of critical essays. Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday/Anchor, 1973.

Gueroult 1. M. Gueroult. Spinoza. 2 vols. to date. I: Dieu; II: L’âme. Paris: Aubier, 1968-1974. For a fragment of the uncompleted third volume, see Revue 2, 285-302.

Gueroult 2. Etudes sur Descartes, Spinoza, Malebranche et Leibniz. Hildesheim: Georg Olms, 1970.

Gueroult 3. Descartes selon l’ordre des raisons. 2 vols. Paris: Aubier, 1953.

Hall 1. M. B. Hall. Robert Boyle on Natural Philosophy, an essay with selections from his writings. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1966.

Hall 2. Robert Boyle and 17th Century Chemistry. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1958.

Hall 3. A. R. and M. B. Hall. “Philosophy and Natural Philosophy: Boyle and Spinoza.” In Melanges Alexandre Koyré, II: L’aventure de l’esprit, 241-246. Paris: Hermann, 1964.

Harris 1. E. Harris. Salvation From Despair. The Hague: M. Nijhoff, 1973.

Harris 2. “Finite and Infinite in Spinoza’s System.” In Hessing, 197-211.

Harris 3. “Spinoza’s Theory of Immortality.” In Mandelbaum and Freeman, 245-262.

Haserot. F. S. Haserot. “Spinoza’s Definition of Attribute.” Philosophical Review 62 (1953):499-513. Reprinted in Kashap, 28-42.

Hayes. B. Spinoza. Earlier Philosophical Writings, The Cartesian Principles and Metaphysical Thoughts. Translated by F. Hayes, introduction by D. Bidney. Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill, 1963.

Heereboord 1. A. Heereboord. Disputationes ex philosophia selectae. Leiden, 1650.

Heereboord 2. Meletemata philosophica. Amsterdam, 1680.

Herivel. J. Herivel. The Background to Newton’s Principia. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1965.

Hessing. S. Hessing, ed. Speculum spinozanum. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1977.

Hobbes. T. Hobbes. Works. Edited by W. Molesworth. London, 1839-1845. EW = English Works (11 vols.); LW = Latin Works (5 vols.).

Hubbeling. H. Hubbeling. “The Development of Spinoza’s Axiomatic Method.” In Revue 1, 53-68.

Jansonius. H. Jansonius. Nieuw Groot Nederlands-Engels Woordenboek. Leiden: Nederlandsche Uitgeversmaatschappij, 1972, 3 vols.

Joachim 1. H. H. Joachim. A Study of the Ethics of Spinoza. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1901.

Joachim 2. Spinoza’s Tractatus de Intellectus Emendatione. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1940.

Kashap. S. P. Kashap, ed. Studies in Spinoza. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1972.

Kenny. A. Kenny. Descartes. New York: Random House, 1968.

Kline. G. Kline. “On the Infinity of Spinoza’s Attributes.” In Hessing, 333-352.

Kneale. M. Kneale. “Eternity and Sempiternity.” In Grene, 227-240.

Koyré 1. A. Koyré. From the Closed World to the Infinite Universe. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Press, 1957.

Koyré 2. Traité de la réforme de l’entendement. Text, translation and notes. 3rd ed. Paris: Vrin, 1964.

Koyré 3. Newtonian Studies. London: Chapman and Hall, 1965.

Lachièze-Rey. P. Lachièze-Rey. Les origines cartésiennes du Dieu de Spinoza. Paris: Vrin, 1950.

Leibniz. G. W. von Leibinz. Philosophische Schriften. Edited by C. I. Gerhardt. 7 vols. Berlin, 1875-1890.

Leopold. J. H. Leopold. Ad Spinozae operaposthuma. The Hague: M. Nijhoff, 1902.

Lewkowitz. J. Lewkowitz. Spinoza’s Cogitata Metaphysica und Ihr Verhaltnis zu Descartes und zur Scholastik. Breslau, 1902.

Lewis and Short. C. T. Lewis and C. Short. A Latin Dictionary. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1969.

Locke. J. Locke. An Essay Concerning Human Understanding. Edited by P. Nidditch. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1975.

Lovejoy. A. Lovejoy. The Great Chain of Being. New York: Harper, 1960.

Luther. M. Luther. On the Bondage of the Will. Translated by J. L. Packer and O. R. Johnston. London: James Clark, 1957.

McKeon. R. McKeon. Selections from Medieval Philosophers. 2 vols. New York: Scribner, 1930.

Maimonides 1. Moses ben Maimon. The Guide of the Perplexed. Translated with introduction and notes by Shlomo Pines, introductory essay by Leo Strauss. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1963.

Maimonides 2. Le livre de connaissance. Translated by V. Nikiprowetzky and A. Zaoui. Paris: PUF, 1961.

Mandelbaum and Freeman. M. Mandelbaum and E. Freeman. Spinoza, Essays in Interpretation. La Salle, Ill.: Open Court, 1975. A reprint of the special number of The Monist dedicated to Spinoza in 1971, to which have been added four new essays and a bibliography supplementing the work of Oko and Wetlesen, up to the end of 1972.

Mark. T. Mark. “Ordine Geometrico Demonstrata: Spinoza’s Use of the Axiomatic Method.” Review of Metaphysics 29 (1975):263-286.

Matheron 1. A. Matheron. Individu et communauté chez Spinoza. Paris: Les éditions de Minuit, 1969.

Matheron 2. “Spinoza et la sexualité.” Giornale, 436-457.

Mattern. R. Mattern. “Spinoza and Ethical Subjectivism.” Canadian Journal of Philosophy, Supplementary Volume IV: New Essays on Rationalism and Empiricism, edited by C. Jarrett, J. King-Farlow, and F. J. Pelletier (1978):59-82.

Meinsma. K. O. Meinsma. Spinoza en zijn kring. The Hague, 1896. A classic, but even readers who have Dutch should now prefer the recent French translation by S. Roosenburg and J.-P. Osier (Spinoza et son cercle, Paris, J. Vrin, 1983), with extensive updating by H. Méchoulan, P.-F. Moreau, and others.

Mignini 1. F. Mignini. Critical edition of the KV in Akkerman, Hubbeling, Mignini, Petry, and van Suchtelen.

Mignini 2. “Per la datazione e l’interpretazione del Tractatus de Intellectus Emendatione di B. Spinoza.” La Cultura 17 (1979):87-160.

Mignini 3. “Un documento trascurato della revisione spinoziana del Breve Trattato.” La Cultura 18 (1980):223-273.

Niermeyer. J. F. Niermeyer, Mediae latinitatis lexicon minus, Leiden: Brill, 1976.

Offenberg. A. K. Offenberg. Brief van Spinoza aan Lodewijk Meijer, 26 juli 1663. Text, Dutch translation, and commentary (in Dutch). Amsterdam: Universiteitsbibliotheek, 1975.

Oko. A. S. Oko. The Spinoza Bibliography. Boston: Hall, 1964. A thorough bibliography up to 1942.

Oldenburg. The Correspondence of Henry Oldenburg. Edited by A. R. and M. B. Hall. 11 vols. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1965-1977.

Parkinson. G.H.R. Parkinson. Spinoza’s Theory of Knowledge. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1954.

Pléiade. Oeuvres complètes de Spinoza. Translated and edited by R. Caillois, M. Francès, and R. Misrahi. Paris: Gallimard, 1954.

Pollock. F. Pollock. Spinoza, his life and philosophy. 2nd ed. London: C. K. Paul, 1899.

Revah 1. I. S. Revah. Spinoza et le Dr. Juan de Prado. Paris, La Haye: Mouton, 1959.

Revah 2. “Aux origines de la rupture spinozienne.” Revue des études juives 3 (1964):

Revue 1. Revue internationale de philosophie 31 (1977), nos. 119, 120, devoted to Spinoza. Articles by Akkerman, Abraham, Di Vona, Hubbeling, Matson, Rice, Röd, Rotenstreich, Préposiet, Parkinson, Sokolov, Giancotti Boscherini, Méchoulan, Misrahi.

Revue 2. Revue philosophique de la France et de l’Etranger 167 (1977), nos. 2 and 3, devoted to Spinoza. Articles by Misrahi, Hessing, Matheron, Zac, Offenberg, Gueroult, Violette.

Rice. L. Rice. “Emotion, Appetition and Conatus in Spinoza.” Revue 1, 101-116.

Rist. J. M. Rist. Stoic Philosophy. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1969.

Rivaud. A. Rivaud. “Les Per se Nota dans l’Ethique.” In Chronicon Spinozanum, 2:138-154.

Robinson. L. Robinson. Kommentar zu Spinozas Ethik. Leipzig: Felix Meiner, 1928.

Roth. C. Roth. “The Role of Spanish in the Marrano Diaspora.” In Studies in Books and Booklore. Boston: Gregg Inter. Pub., 1972.

Russell. B. Russell. Why I Am Not a Christian. New York: Simon and Schuster, 1957.

Sabra. A. I. Sabra. Theories of Light From Descartes to Newton. London: Oldbourne, 1967.

Scotus. Duns Scotus. Quaestiones in quattuor libros sententiarum. In Opera omnia, vols. 8-21, edited by L. Wadding. Paris: Vives, 1891-1894.

Sigwart 1. B. Spinoza. Kurzer Tractat. Translated and edited by C. Sigwart. Freiburg, 1870.

Sigwart 2. C. Sigwart. Spinoza’s neuentdeckter Tractat in seiner Bedeutung für das Verstandnis des Spinozismus. Gotha, 1866.

Suarez. F. Suarez. Disputationes metaphysicae. 2 vols. Hildesheim: Georg Olms, 1965.

Taylor. A. E. Taylor. “Some Incoherencies in Spinozism.” Mind 46 (1937): 137-158, 281-301.

Thijssen-Schoute 1. C. L.Thijssen-Schoute. Lodewijk Meijer en diens verhouding tot Descartes en Spinoza. Mededelingen vanwege het Spinozahuis XI. Leiden: Brill, 1954.

Thijssen-Schoute 2. Nederlands Cartesianisme. Amsterdam: North Holland, 1954.

Thijssen-Schoute 3. “Le Cartésianisme aux pays-bas.” In Dijksterhuis (1), 183-260.

Tucker. G. Tucker, ed. Spinoza Rediscovered. New York: Jewish Theological Seminary of America, 1985. Papers read at the tercentennial conference held in 1977.

Van der Tak. W.G. van der Tak. “Bene agere et laetari.” In Chronicon Spinozanum, 1:263-264.

Vernière. P. Vernière. Spinoza et la pensée française avant la Révolution. 2 vols. Paris: PUF, 1954.

Voss. S. Voss. “How Spinoza Enumerated the Affects.” Archiv für Geschichte der Philosophie 63 (1981):167-179.

Walker. D. P. Walker. The Decline of Hell. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1964.

Westfall. R. S. Westfall. Force in Newton’s Physics, the science of dynamics in the Seventeenth Century. New York: American Elsevier, 1971.

Wetlesen. J. Wetlesen. A Spinoza Bibliography 1940-1970. Oslo: Universitetsvorlaget, 1971. Supplements Oko.

Wolf 1, A. Wolf. “Spinoza’s Conception of the Attributes of Substance.” Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society 27 (1927):177-192. Reprinted in Kashap, 16-27.

Wolf 2. Spinoza’s Short Treatise on God, Man and his Well-Being. New York: Russell and Russell, 1963.

Wolf 3. The Correspondence of Spinoza. New York: Dial Press, n.d.

Wolf 4. “An Addition to the Correspondence of Spinoza.” Philosophy 10 (1935):200-204.

Wolfson 1. M. A. Wolfson. The Philosophy of Spinoza. 2 vols. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1934.

Wolfson 2. Religious Philosophy. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1961.

Wolfson 3. Crescas’ Critique of Aristotle. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1929.

Zac. S. Zac. L’Idée de vie dans la philosophie de Spinoza. Paris: PUF, 1963.

The Collected Works of Spinoza

THE
Collected Works
OF
SPINOZA

Edited and Translated by
Edwin Curley

Copyright © 2016 by Princeton University Press

Published by Princeton University Press, 41 William Street,
Princeton, New Jersey 08540
In the United Kingdom: Princeton University Press, 6 Oxford Street,
Woodstock, Oxfordshire OX20 1TR
press.princeton.edu

All Rights Reserved
Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data
Spinoza, Benedictus de, 1632–1677.

The collected works of Spinoza.

Includes bibliographies and index. (v. 2: alk. paper)

ISBN 978-0-691-16763-3

1. Philosophy-Collected works.

I. Curley, E. M. (Edwin M.), 1937–. II. Title.

B3958 1984 199'.492 84-11716

(This listing was originally issued in 1984 for Volume I of this work,
ISBN 0-691-07222-1.)

British Library Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available
This book has been composed in Janson Text LT STD

Printed on acid-free paper. ∞

Printed in the United States of America

1  3  5  7  9  10  8  6  4  2

SOME WILL REMIND US of the saying “while the Romans deliberate, Saguntum is lost.” On the other hand, when the few decide everything, simply on the basis of their own affects, freedom and the common good are lost. For human wits are too sluggish to penetrate everything right away. But by asking advice, listening, and arguing, they’re sharpened. When people try all means, in the end they find ways to the things they want which everyone approves, and no one had ever thought of before.

—SPINOZA, POLITICAL TREATISE, IX, 14

Contents

GENERAL PREFACE,  ix

SHORT TITLES AND ABBREVIATIONS,  xix

Letters: September 1665–September 1669

EDITORIAL PREFACE,  3

LETTERS 29–41,  10

A Critique of Theology and Politics

EDITORIAL PREFACE,  45

THEOLOGICAL-POLITICAL TREATISE,  65

Letters: January 1671–Late 1676

EDITORIAL PREFACE,  357

LETTERS 42–84,  374

Designs for Stable States

EDITORIAL PREFACE,  491

POLITICAL TREATISE,  503

Glossary-Index

PREFACE,  607

GLOSSARY,  613

LATIN-DUTCH-ENGLISH INDEX,  666

INDEX OF BIBLICAL AND TALMUDIC REFERENCES,  713

INDEX OF PROPER NAMES,  721

WORKS CITED,  725

CORRELATION OF THE ALM
AND BRUDER PARAGRAPH NUMBERS (TTP),  767

General Preface

I’VE BEEN AT WORK on this translation for a long time now. It’s been forty-five years since I began on Volume I, and nearly thirty years since I started on this second, final, volume. It’s time, at long last, to put an end to this project, at least for a while, and to make the results of my work available to whoever is interested.

The basic goals of my edition remain what they were in 1969. I believed then, and still believe, that a truly satisfactory edition of Spinoza’s works ought:

first, to provide translations which are as accurate as possible, which show good judgment, when something more than accuracy is required, which are as clear and readable as fidelity to the text will allow, and which leave interpretation to the commentators, so far as this is possible;

second, to base those translations on the best available critical editions of the original texts;

third, to make the edition as comprehensive as possible, so that readers of Spinoza will have conveniently available all the primary data for the interpretation of his philosophy;

fourth, to offer translations which are all by the same hand, in hopes of achieving the kind of consistency in the treatment of important terms which makes it easier to appreciate their importance and meaning, to compare passages in different works treating the same topic, and to form judgments about the possible evolution of Spinoza’s thought;

fifth, to arrange the texts in chronological order, so far as this can reasonably be determined, to make it easier to grasp the development of Spinoza’s thought in those areas where it changed over the course of his philosophical career; and

finally, to supply the texts with editorial aids to assist in understanding of Spinoza’s work: prefaces, annotation, indices, and, in a limited way, commentary.

The response to Volume I has generally been quite gratifying. A number of reviewers seemed to think I had achieved my goals. Some—most notably, Jonathan Bennett¹—combined high praise with really helpful criticism. Many authors writing about Spinoza in English seem to have wanted to use my translations where they could, citing other translations only when the work was one I hadn’t done yet. Some expressed a certain impatience for the completion of Volume II. No author could reasonably wish for more.

Still, I have felt that in Volume II I could, and should, do better. Bennett’s main criticism was that in my quest for fidelity I hadn’t given enough weight to readability. I didn’t agree with all his examples, but I did realize that he had a point, one I have come to appreciate more and more as I have reviewed my successive drafts with a view to improving their style. In this volume I have tried very hard to make sure that my translations are as readable as I can make them without sacrificing my other goals.

In this effort Bennett has been extraordinarily helpful. After he retired from teaching, believing students often had unnecessary difficulty understanding the classic texts in early modern philosophy, he embarked on the project of making them “easier to read while leaving intact the main arguments, doctrines, and lines of thought.”² When he decided that the Theological-Political Treatise (TTP) should be included in this collection, he asked if he could use my draft translation to guide him. I was happy to agree. I had some reservations about encouraging students to read abridged versions of these texts, in what was sometimes more a paraphrase than a translation. But I felt he was providing a great service to the profession. No one will agree with everything Bennett does. However, he was addressing a real problem in a genuinely constructive way. And generally I have tried to cooperate with other scholars by sharing my draft translations with those who asked to use them in their teaching or research. Given the length of time it was taking me to produce a version I was content to publish in the more usual way, this seemed the least I could do.

In this case circulating my draft led to extremely valuable feedback. Seeing what Bennett did with my draft of the TTP to make it more readable—and the problems which his thoughts about the text sometimes alerted me to—gave me many ideas about how I could improve my translations. Some of his devices for achieving readability may be irrelevant or not open to a translator. But others are both relevant and useful to any translator.³ More recently Bennett decided to tackle Spinoza’s correspondence, and asked if he could use my draft translations of that part of the corpus. I agreed again, this time asking him to give me specific comments on any problems he encountered in my drafts. I could not have asked for a better collaborator.

There are several other ways in which I hope this volume will improve on its predecessor. In producing Volume I, I worked without the aid of a computer. For Volume II, I’ve had a series of ever-improving computers to use. They have helped me write and revise my translations, print out drafts without having to worry that the typing process will introduce new errors, circulate drafts to other scholars, do word searches in the texts—not only in the English of the translation but also in the Latin of the text translated—record data about words which require an entry in the Glossary-Index, consult online reference works through my university library, email other scholars, order books for my personal library, and, lately, download books which once would have required a trip to a distant library. I have been amazed, and very grateful, to see how much has become available on the Internet. The computer has changed my life, much for the better, on the whole. It has its downside: it has provided me with more distractions than I needed, and tempted me to pursue inquiries which were probably not always necessary. But on the whole it has been a great blessing.

One issued raised by some readers of Vol. I was whether my translations were too interpretive. One thought they were. Another praised them for keeping the effects of my overall interpretation to a minimum.⁴ They were interpretive, of course; they still are. In my view every translation is inevitably often an interpretation of its text. It must be. You can try to deal with this fact by adding footnotes explaining that others might render the text differently, or using a device like the Glossary-Index to discuss your choices. But it does none of us any good to pretend that a translator can avoid interpretation.

When it seemed necessary, I did add footnotes calling attention to some of the translations I thought might be particularly contentious.⁵ But if you did this as often as the situation might call for it, you would have intolerably many footnotes. In the languages of the texts translated here—in every language I know anything about—many terms are ambiguous. So the translator must constantly make choices: which of the various possible translations of this term seems likely to best express Spinoza’s meaning? I take this to be a question of trying to decide what English term Spinoza would have chosen if he had been writing in our language and had been fluent in twentieth- or twenty-first-century English. This question is wildly hypothetical, of course. Still, there may be a right answer to it. That is, there may be a fact of the matter about what choice Spinoza would have made under those conditions.⁶ Moreover, sometimes, when the stars are properly aligned, we can be reasonably confident that we know what the answer is.⁷

Here’s an easy case. The Latin noun liberi can mean either children in general or only sons. When Spinoza is presenting his recommended constitution for a non-tyrannical monarchy, he writes that “If the king has had a number of liberi, the eldest should succeed by right” (TP vi, 37). In spite of the ambiguity of liberi, no competent, careful reader of the text will be in any doubt about Spinoza’s meaning. It’s as certain as can be that Spinoza meant to refer only to male children. Two sentences further on he writes: filias in haereditatem imperii venire, nulla ratione concedendum, as I would put it, “under no circumstances should daughters be permitted to inherit the rule.” Even if we did not have that sentence, there are, as Spinoza’s admirers may regret, a number of other passages which would guide us to the right answer, passages where Spinoza expresses his doubts about the ability of women to rule well.

Most cases aren’t that easy. Here’s one that’s more difficult. The Latin term saeculum can refer to periods of time of very different lengths: a generation, a century, an age, or simply a long period of indefinite duration. The different possible ways of translating saeculum yield significantly different meanings for the passages in which it occurs. In Chapter 8 of the TTP Spinoza says that the author of the Pentateuch lived many saecula after Moses. Does he mean that the author lived many generations after Moses, or many centuries? (To simplify I focus on what seem to be the two most salient possibilities.) We know from things Spinoza says later in the TTP that he thought that author lived many centuries later. But did he intend to say that as early as §§17 and 20 of Chapter 8? I don’t think so. So in those two passages in Chapter 8 I’ve translated saeculum as “generation.”

A more difficult case, but not an impossible one. I can give reasons for the choice I made.⁸ It’s not purely arbitrary. Still, it illustrates the point that a translator must frequently use his (or her)⁹ best judgment, fallible though that judgment must be. Different translators will make different judgments. So I repeat, with a modest qualification: every translation of an extended piece of serious philosophical writing must often be an interpretation of the text. No one should be under any illusions about that necessity, or the difficulty of the task.

A few years ago Lydia Davis, widely admired, not only for her short stories, but also for her translations of French literature, stated the challenge of translation well:

A single work involves often hundreds of thousands of minute decisions. Many are inevitably compromises. The ideal translation would result in an English that perfectly replicated the original and at the same time read with as much natural vigor as though it had been born in English. But in reality the finished translation is likely to be more uneven—now eloquent, now pedestrian, now a perfect replication, now a little false to the original in meaning or rhythm or syntax or level of diction. A careful weighing of the many choices involved can nevertheless result in a wonderful translation. But great patience and of course great skill in writing are essential, not to speak of a good ear and a deep understanding of the original text.¹⁰

It may be reckless to invite judgment by such a standard. And I must confess that I have not tried to meet it in every respect. There’s no way you can write an English which speaks as simply and directly to the reader as I would like to do, while at the same time respecting Spinoza’s (and his century’s) tolerance for long, complex sentences, and long, complex paragraphs. My highest priority is to be as true to the original in meaning as I can. I do not give nearly as much weight to rhythm or syntax or level of diction. I am translating philosophy, not literature.

Nevertheless, it has seemed to me that I could, to some significant extent, reduce the difficulties inherent in translation by giving the reader a systematic sense of the most important problems I faced in the works translated, of what the options seemed to be, and why I made the choices I did. The main purpose of the Glossary-Index is to try to be clear, without being tedious, about those choices and why I made them. I also share information about the decisions Spinoza’s contemporary Dutch translators made, which I find often helpful in the interpretation of the text.¹¹

The Glossary is another area where I think this volume improves on its predecessor. In preparing Volume I, I added the Glossary at a fairly late stage of my work, as I came to appreciate how difficult it would be for readers without much (or any) Latin or Dutch to use an index constructed on the basis of terms in the original languages. Adding the Glossary late in the process meant that I didn’t fully exploit its possibilities. The notes I wrote explaining my choices and acknowledging the different choices other translators had made were often very short, and not, I now think, as reflective or well argued as they might have been. In preparing Volume II, I’ve had the advantage of knowing from the start that I intended to create a substantial section explaining my treatment of problematic terms, of being able to use the computer to quickly survey the various contexts in which the terms occurred, and of fine-tuning the draft entries as I went along, and as I reflected on the meaning of the terms in their various occurrences. This has its downside, too: it has made it much easier to agonize endlessly about getting it, if not right, then as good as I could make it. But I think it has made the Glossary much more useful.

In constructing the Glossary-Index this time, I’ve had two immense advantages I did not have when I was constructing the similar tool for Vol. I. First, as indicated, I’ve had all the Latin texts available on disk. I’m grateful to Mark Rooks for the initial scanning of those texts and to Frédéric Bélier, Debra Nails, and William Levitan for proofreading the scans. Having these texts available has made searching for occurrences much easier and much more reliable. It can still be time-consuming and tedious. But it’s not impossibly so. Since one of my goals has been to achieve as much consistency as possible in the treatment of key terms, and to make my decisions in the light of a comprehensive view of Spinoza’s usage, this was a great help.

Second, Minna Koivuniemi patiently and scrupulously checked a late draft of the index for occurrences I might have failed to record, false positives, and misinformation I might have given about the terms I used to translate a given term. Her assistance has saved me a lot of time, greatly improved the accuracy of the index, and made me indebted to her far beyond what I could ever hope to repay. This portion of the work must now contain far fewer mistakes than it would have without her help. (It is still the product of human effort, so it can’t possibly be error-free.) Also, because Minna knows Spinoza and the literature on him very well, she was able to give me valuable feedback on some of the Glossary entries.

Some years ago I published a pair of essays which contained in their titles the phrase “notes on a neglected masterpiece” (Curley 1990b, 1994). This was a reference to the principal work in this volume, Spinoza’s Theological-Political Treatise, which I believed had been seriously neglected by English-language commentators, but which I also believed deserved the label “masterpiece” as much as the better-known Ethics did. There are few works in the history of philosophy which can claim to have laid the foundations for a whole new discipline, as the TTP did for the science of biblical interpretation.¹² Add to that the fact that the TTP is also the first work by a major philosopher in the Western tradition to defend democracy as the most natural form of government, which best preserves the freedom and equality of the state of nature. Add further the facts that the TTP’s powerful critique of revealed religion made a major contribution to the Enlightenment of the eighteenth century,¹³ and that it offers a forceful defense of freedom of thought and expression, which surely surpasses anything published up to that time (and probably surpasses much that has been published since then).

In the last twenty years, I’m happy to say, anglophone scholars have begun to pay the TTP more attention. These years have seen several works which undertook to give it its due,¹⁴ and numerous others which, without being specifically about the TTP (or even specifically about Spinoza), provided important background to his religious and political thought.¹⁵ Perhaps we may hope that before too long the other major work in this volume, the Political Treatise (TP), will have its day.¹⁶ Though unfinished, it does a great deal to give concreteness to the programmatic position on politics sketched in the TTP.¹⁷

One fortunate, though hardly intended, consequence of the protracted period leading up to the production of this volume is that in the period between Volumes I and II we have seen the appearance of new critical editions of the TTP and TP, in the series published by Presses Universitaires de France (PUF), under the general editorship of Pierre-François Moreau, with highly qualified editors responsible for the individual volumes.¹⁸ In spite of the problems of the Gebhardt edition, which is gradually being superseded by the PUF edition, I still treat it as my default edition of the text, in the sense that, unless I see reason to think otherwise, I generally assume that Gebhardt’s text is correct, and do not discuss earlier editions when I think he has clearly improved on them. His is still the most nearly complete edition of the texts. I also make my references to his volume and page numbers, to make it easier for students to navigate the secondary literature. As for the problems of his edition, I have tried to give a fair account of them in the notes and to discuss the more important textual issues raised by subsequent editors.

As for the other major component of this volume, we do not yet have a volume of the correspondence in the PUF series. But we do have the Akkerman, Hubbeling, and Westerbrink translation of that correspondence (AHW), which contains many valuable improvements on Gebhardt’s text.

At the beginning of this preface I signaled my intention to set this project aside “at least for a while.” Believing, for the reasons indicated, that Volume II improves on Volume I in a number of respects, I would like to come back to my earlier work in a few years, and make the kinds of improvement, in a revised edition of Volume I, that I believe I’ve made in Volume II. I cannot know whether I will be granted the continued longevity and good health necessary to achieve that goal. But if things go well, I would also hope to make this edition more complete by adding some portions of Spinoza’s Hebrew Grammar. It’s hard for me to believe that many people will want to read a complete translation of that work, much of which is devoted to laying out the conjugations of Hebrew verbs. But there are some passages in it which seem to me of genuine philosophical interest. I would have included them in this edition if I had believed that the benefits, in terms of understanding Spinoza’s thoughts about language, outweighed the costs of delaying further the publication of works I think are vastly more important. I do not include the two short scientific treatises on the rainbow and the calculation of chances which Gebhardt ascribed to Spinoza. I believe there is now a consensus that they are not by Spinoza.

In addition to the people thanked above for their assistance on this volume, there are many others whose help I am grateful for. First, of course, my editors at Princeton University Press: Rob Tempio, Debbie Tegarden, and Jenn Backer. It was Rob’s patient prodding over the years, and Debbie’s gentle nudging, which finally persuaded me to turn loose of this manuscript. And Jenn’s insightful questions about what I had written saved me from many failures of clarity and downright mistakes. Among the many others to whom I am grateful are: Jacob Adler, Fokke Akkerman, James Amelang, Wiep van Bunge, Herman de Dijn, Scott Dennis, Alan Donagan, Dan Garber, Don Garrett, Xavier Gil, Liz Goodnick, Ian Hacking, John Huddlestun, Jonathan Israel, Susan James, Gary Knoppers, James Kugel, Mogens Laerke, Jacqueline Lagrée, Michael LeBuffe, Maurie Mandelbaum, Jon Miller, Pierre-François Moreau, Steve Nadler, Debra Nails, Geoffrey Parker, David Potter, Charles Ramond, Michael Rosenthal, Don Rutherford, E. P. Sanders, Tad Schmaltz, Rebecca Scott, Piet Steenbakkers, Pina Totaro, Jeroen van de Ven, Theo Verbeek, and Manfred Walther. Finally, I owe an immense debt to my wife, Ruth, who has made a wonderful home for me for over fifty-five years now, traveled cheerfully with me to the many places where my work or curiosity took me, and given me her sustaining love, through good times and bad. She has also helped greatly by reading the page proofs of the entire volume.

When I began this project in 1969, I was fortunate enough to have a research position at the Australian National University—ultimately a tenured research position. It was with some trepidation that I returned to a teaching job in the United States in 1977, with the project not quite half completed. But on the whole things have worked out well for me. I have been fortunate again to have the support of numerous universities and granting agencies: the University of Illinois at Chicago, the University of Michigan, the National Endowment for the Humanities, the National Humanities Center, the Guggenheim Foundation, and the Institute for Advanced Study in Princeton. I am very grateful for the support of these institutions. Without it the completion of this project would still be years away.

I dedicated the first volume to my mentor in Australia, John Passmore. I dedicate this volume to Bernard Peach, who gave me my first introduction to Spinoza, in a characteristically wonderful seminar at Duke many years ago, and who was a model of what a thesis supervisor should be.

1. In the Philosophical Review 96 (1987): 306–11.

2. For the current state of this ambitious project, go to http://www.earlymoderntexts.com.

3. For the general principles of Bennett’s work, see http://www.earlymoderntexts.com/how.html. Someone translating Spinoza from Latin or Dutch need not worry about updating the language in the way an editor of Hobbes might. And a translator will not consider it proper to omit passages which don't “earn their keep.” But striving for “less convoluted syntax and shorter sentences, numbering of points, indenting of passages that are helped by such a display”—these all seem both legitimate and helpful. To this list I would add the breaking up of long paragraphs into more manageable and coherent units of thought.

4. Cf. Rice 1990 with Doniela 1987.

5. For example, in E I D4, I D6, I D8Exp., II P13S, III P6, etc.

6. Or there may not. A Spinoza fluent in English might still have found no suitable equivalent in English for a particular term in Latin or Dutch. It might be that there is no English term which has quite the right connotations, or which matches the ambiguity of a given Latin or Dutch term. It might be that Spinoza wished to take advantage of that ambiguity. It may also be that he used a particular term without giving any thought to its ambiguity.

7. I’ve discussed the general issues, using Hobbes as my example, in Curley 1994.

8. See the Glossary entry AGE, CENTURY, GENERATION.

9. I dislike this awkward way of avoiding the sexism of English pronouns, and try to use it sparingly, preferring, when I am speaking for myself, to alternate more or less randomly between masculine and feminine pronouns. In translating Spinoza, however, I think it would be a mistake to give the impression that he possessed our sensitivities in these matters.

10. “Up Front: Lydia Davis,” New York Times, June 9, 2011, Book Review section, p. 4. While I was writing this preface, Claire Messud gave us some elegant examples of these “minute decisions” in her review of Sandra Smith’s new translation of Camus’ L’Étranger in the New York Review of Books, June 5, 2014.

11. Sometimes this seems to me quite important. Consider the term hieroglyphicum, which occurs infrequently, but is crucial in Strauss’s reading of Spinoza. In this case I think Glazemaker’s renderings are very illuminating. See the Glossary entry SYMBOL (OBSCURE). Glazemaker was no doubt fallible. All of us are. And in producing the Nagelate schriften he seems to have been working under intense time pressure. But he was an experienced and intelligent translator of seventeenth-century philosophical Latin, whose views deserve our consideration and respect. For a balanced appreciation of his strengths and weaknesses, see Akkerman 1984.

12. On the importance of Spinoza in the history of biblical interpretation, see Anchor Genesis, xx–xxii; Kugel 2007, ch. 1; and Curley 2014. Curley 1994 defends my (Spinozistic) view that biblical interpretation—and textual interpretation generally—can be a scientific discipline.

13. See the three massive volumes of Jonathan Israel’s history of the Enlightenment (Israel 2001, 2006, and 2011), whose main conclusions are summarized in Israel 2010. No doubt Israel’s grand narrative is open to just criticism. I’ve criticized some of his claims myself in Curley 2007. But to support the claim made in the text it is necessary only to cite Vernière 1954.

14. To mention only recent works in English which deal specifically with the TTP, and only the most notable of these: James 2012, Nadler 2011, Melamed and Rosenthal 2010, and Verbeek 2003. To these we might add two English translations of important French works on Spinoza’s political thought generally: Balibar 1985a/1998 and Balibar 1985b/1989.

15. Any list will be incomplete, but even an incomplete list would have to include Haitsma Mulier 1980, Menasseh 1842/1972, 1652/1987, Ibn Ezra 1988, Van den Enden 1665/1992, Van Gelderen 1992, Van Bunge and Klever 1996, Bodian 1997, Smith 1997, Nadler 1999, 2001, Preus 2001, Grotius 1647/2001, Jelles/Spruit 1684/2004, Meyer 2005, Kugel 2007, Koerbagh/Wielema 2011, Weststeijn 2012, Van Velthuysen 2013.

16. In some places this is already happening. Cf. the recent judgment of three French scholars: “Relégué pendant longtemps à l’arrière-plan, au profit de l’Éthique et du Traité théologico-politique, le Traité politique est aujourd’hui au coeur des études spinozistes” (Jaquet 2008, 11). Not many anglophone scholars would be apt to say this now, but we may hope that in a few years we will catch up with our European colleagues.

17. Perhaps it also signals a significant shift in Spinoza’s position on central issues in political theory, such as the idea of a social contract. I am more skeptical about the latter point than are some other scholars, but the research I anticipate should shed light on these questions.

18. For details, see Works Cited, Editions of Spinoza’s works, ALM and PR. To these editions we must add Pina Totaro’s invaluable edition of the TTP, with the Latin text (generally, but not invariably, following Akkerman), an Italian translation on facing pages, and tremendously helpful annotation. (See “Totaro” in Works Cited.)

Short Titles and Abbreviations

IN VOLUME I, I undertook to make reference to the pagination of the Gebhardt edition¹ standard for discussions of Spinoza’s works, as reference to certain older editions of Plato and Aristotle has long been standard for those ancient philosophers. Though Gebhardt’s edition is in the process of being superseded by the edition published by Presses Universitaires de France (PUF),² the idea of using the Gebhardt pagination as a standard form of reference remains valid and seems to be gaining some acceptance. Gebhardt’s edition is available online in the InteLex database, which is a great convenience for those who have access to it (as students and teachers often will through a university or college library), and many secondary works use it in their references.

I give the Gebhardt pagination and line numbers in the margins. In footnotes and prefaces “Gebhardt III/5” (or sometimes simply “III/5”) refers to Volume III, page 5 of the Gebhardt edition. “Gebhardt III/273/10–22” refers to Volume III, page 273, lines 10–22 of that edition.

For the Political Treatise (Tractatus politicus, or TP) Spinoza’s Opera posthuma numbered the paragraphs in each chapter, and those paragraph numbers often provide the most convenient way to refer to a passage. So “TP iii, 1” refers to the first paragraph in Chapter 3 of the Political Treatise.

The paragraphs in the Theological-Political Treatise (Tractatus theologicopoliticus, or TTP) were not numbered and are often rather long. In company with some other writers on Spinoza, I like to use the paragraph numbering system introduced by a nineteenth-century German editor, C. H. Bruder, who generally breaks the text up into fairly short and coherent units. I give the Bruder paragraphing of the TTP in brackets in the text of that work and use chapter and Bruder paragraph numbers within the TTP to refer to other sections of that work. So within the TTP a footnote reference to “vii, 23” refers to Bruder paragraph 23 in chapter 7 of the TTP. More recently ALM have introduced their own system of paragraph numbers for the TTP, which I don’t find so convenient, since it tends to take as its paragraphs longer portions of the text, which don’t permit as precise a reference as the Bruder paragraphs. But to accommodate readers who wish to follow references to the text which use that system, I have added on pp. 767–69 a table correlating the ALM paragraph numbers with the Bruder paragraph numbers.

References to other works of Spinoza use the following abbreviations:

KV =

Korte Verhandeling van God, de Mensch, en des Zelfs Welstand (Short Treatise on God, Man and His Well-Being = Short Treatise)

TdIE =

Tractatus de Intellectus Emendatione (Treatise on the Emendation of the Intellect = Treatise on the Intellect)

Ep. =

Epistolae (Letters)

PP =

Renati Des Cartes Principiorum philosophiae, Pars I & II, More geometrico demonstrata (Parts I and II of Descartes’ “Principles of Philosophy” = Descartes’ Principles), published in Latin in 1663, and in a Dutch translation in 1664

CM =

Cogitata metaphysica (Metaphysical Thoughts)

E =

Ethica (Ethics)

OP =

Opera posthuma (Posthumous Works), published in 1677, containing the first printed editions of the TdIE, Ep., E, TP, and a(n incomplete) grammar of the Hebrew language

NS =

De nagelate schriften, a Dutch version of the OP, published in the same year but without a translation of the Hebrew Grammar

In addition, for works written in the geometric style, it is often most convenient to use the following abbreviations:

A =

axiom

D (following a roman numeral) =

definition

D (following an arabic numeral) =

demonstration

P =

proposition

L =

lemma

C =

corollary

S =

scholium (i.e., a note, often containing an important digression from the main line of argument in the text)

Exp. =

explanation

App. =

appendix

Def. Aff. =

definition of the affects

So “PP I D5” refers to Definition 5 of Part I of Descartes’ Principles. “E I P8S2” refers to the Scholium 2 to Proposition 8 of Part I of the Ethics.

For more abbreviations and short titles, used in referring to works by other authors, see Works Cited, pp. 724–64.

1. For details of the Gebhardt edition, see Works Cited, pp. 725–26.

2. At this stage the PUF edition is incomplete. For details of its state as we go to press, see Works Cited, Editions of Spinoza’s Works, ALM, MBG, and PR.

Letters, 29–41
SEPTEMBER 1665–SEPTEMBER 1669

EDITORIAL PREFACE

PEOPLE AND THEMES

Spinoza’s principal correspondents in this period are Henry Oldenburg, Johannes Hudde, and Jarig Jelles. He exchanged five letters with Oldenburg (Letters 29–33) and sent three letters each to Hudde (Letters 34–36) and Jelles (Letters 39–41). There are also single letters to Johannes Bouwmeester (Letter 37) and Johannes van der Meer (Letter 38).

Oldenburg

Oldenburg (1619–1677) we know well from Volume I. The letters he and Spinoza exchanged in this period tell us a good deal about Spinoza’s interaction with contemporary scientists. Particularly important is Christiaan Huygens, whom he seems to have known well in these years, and whose research he was happy to report on.¹

We learn also that by the fall of 1665 Spinoza had begun work on the Theological-Political Treatise (TTP). It’s clear from what he tells Oldenburg that one reason for writing this work was that he did not find the Dutch Republic to be as free as he would claim it was in his Preface.² An illustration of this is that while he was working on the TTP, the arrest, trial, imprisonment, and death in prison of his good friend Adriaan Koerbagh vividly demonstrated the limits of the Dutch Republic’s willingness to allow freedom of thought and expression.³

Koerbagh’s crime was to have published one work (Een Bloemhof van allerley lieflijkheid [A Flower Garden of all kinds of loveliness]) and to have attempted to publish another (Een Ligt schijnende in duystere plaatsen [A Light shining in dark places]) which criticized organized religion from a point of view closely resembling the one Spinoza was to articulate in the TTP. He represented the Hebrew Bible as a work of human authorship, compiled by Ezra from other Jewish writings which had been handed down to him, and which included many stories no more credible than the legends surrounding Till Eulenspiegel. What is important in the Bible is just its core moral teaching: we must know and obey God, and love our neighbors.

When we first encounter talk of the TTP, in Letters 29–30, it appears that Spinoza may have conceived it more as a theological work than as a political one. “I am now composing,” he writes, “a treatise on my opinion regarding scripture.” This would be an inadequate description of the work eventually published in 1670, which supplemented the theological argument for freedom of thought and expression with an argument drawn from political theory. It seems possible that Spinoza may have broadened the scope of his argument because he was distressed that the civil authorities had bowed to ecclesiastical pressure in the persecution of Koerbagh, and wanted to defend their right to allow greater freedom than the clergy would be inclined to permit.

Perhaps Spinoza was also influenced by his reading of Hobbes’ Leviathan, whose text became available to him, during this period, in languages he could read, first in a Dutch translation by his friend Abraham van Berckel (1667), and then in Hobbes’ own Latin translation (1668).⁴ Hobbes may have helped him to see how a secular approach to political theory could provide a useful way of defending religious liberty.⁵ Unfortunately the surviving correspondence from this period provides little information about the work which was probably occupying most of Spinoza’s attention. From this correspondence you would think that he was concentrating mainly on the Ethics and on his scientific work.

In their correspondence from this period Oldenburg is still in his encouraging mode. See particularly Letter 31, whose message is: “Get your philosophy out; everything will be all right; you live in a free country; and anyway, you wouldn’t really say anything to harm religion, would you?” His attitude will change once he has read the TTP.

The letter which has attracted the most philosophical discussion is Letter 32, where Spinoza responds to Oldenburg’s question concerning our knowledge of how the parts of Nature agree with the whole and with each other. Spinoza does not claim to know how these things agree, which he says would require knowing the whole of Nature and all of its parts. But he thinks it clear that there is such an agreement, and what this seems to mean for him is that the human body and the human mind are parts of nature (IV/173a).⁶ What that in turn seems to mean is that the body is part of a law-governed causal network, and that the mind is part of an infinite intellect which reflects everything that happens in nature. Our impression that we and the things around us are independent of one another is an illusion born of our finitude and ignorance.

Oldenburg’s final letter to Spinoza in this period, Letter 33, is the last we have between them for ten years. In 1667 Oldenburg was imprisoned in the Tower of London for two months, on suspicions aroused by his extensive foreign correspondence. The time he spent in the Tower may have contributed to the greater caution he showed when their correspondence resumed in 1675. See, for example, Letters 61 and 62.

Hudde

Johannes Hudde (1628–1704) was a student at the University of Leiden in the 1650s. There he became interested in mathematics, and joined a research group led by Frans van Schooten, which translated Descartes’ Geometry into Latin, publishing it in an edition which also contained appendices by Van Schooten, Jan de Witt, and Hudde. Though he published relatively little in mathematics, he is said to have been recognized in his own time as “one of the greatest living mathematicians.”⁷ Leibniz studied his unpublished mathematical manuscripts, reported finding many excellent results in them, and may have been influenced by them in developing the calculus.

Hudde also worked in optics, producing microscopes and grinding lenses for telescopes, and corresponded with Huygens concerning problems of probability, life expectancy, and canal maintenance, a subject in which he took a strong interest after he became burgomaster of Amsterdam in 1672. He held that post for thirty years. In 1657 he directed the flooding of parts of Holland to block the advance of the French army.

The three letters to Hudde are mainly concerned with problems about the nature of God and the consequences of his necessary existence. To some extent this material duplicates arguments we are familiar with from the Ethics, but there are some interesting variations on the presentations there. The final letter in this series discusses a problem in optics and asks Hudde’s advice about it.

Jelles

We did not encounter Jarig Jelles (1619/20?–1683) in Volume I. He was a Mennonite, associated with the Collegiant movement,⁸ and one of Spinoza’s closest friends. As a young man he was a grocery merchant, but by 1653 he had accumulated enough wealth to entrust his business to a manager, and dedicate himself to the pursuit of knowledge. He was one of those who persuaded Spinoza to publish his geometric exposition of Descartes’ Principles of Philosophy, whose publication he subsidized. The letters to Jelles in this period mainly concern scientific (or pseudoscientific) matters, in optics, hydrodynamics, and alchemy.

Bouwmeester

We met Johannes Bouwmeester, a close friend of Spinoza’s, in Volume I. I have nothing to add to the biographical information given there. The letter addressed to him in this section of the correspondence, Letter 37, is particularly interesting for its discussion of method, in a manner reminiscent of the TdIE, and for its claim that the intellect is not liable, as the body is, to the accidents of fortune.

Van der Meer

Not much is known about Johannes van der Meer, the addressee of Letter 38, except that he was a merchant in Leiden.⁹

PROVENANCE OF THE LETTERS

For most letters I give the source in parentheses after its number in this edition.

“OP” indicates that the default text for translation is the Latin version in the Opera posthuma; “NS,” that the default text is the Dutch of the Nagelate schriften; “A” means that it is an autograph copy; “C,” a copy, but not an autograph. In cases too complicated to indicate in this simple fashion, a footnote indicates the source. I do not claim to have noted all differences between different versions of the letters, but hope to have noted the most important of them.

In the OP the letters are organized first by correspondent, according to the frequency of correspondence—so Oldenburg, for whom the editors had twenty-five letters to and from Spinoza, comes first, whereas Burgh, for whom they had only two letters, comes last. The arrangement and numbering in the NS are the same as that in the OP. The Hackett editors are prone to say of certain letters (e.g., 31, 33, 42, 47, etc.) that they are known only from the OP. But any letter included in the OP appears also in Dutch in the NS. Since the NS translations were not done from the OP, this sometimes provides a useful check on the typesetting of the OP.

In general I follow the Gebhardt text, except where emended in AHW, giving preference to the OP unless the original was written in Dutch, or there is a copy of the original which has a claim to precedence. Where the bracketed page numbers are followed by an “a”—as in Letter 37, for example—that indicates that the text I am translating appears in the upper half of the Gebhardt page. A “b” in the bracketed page numbers—as in Letter 39—indicates that the text translated appears on the lower half of the Gebhardt page.

Spinoza and Oldenburg

Of Letters 29–33 (to and from Oldenburg), Letter 29 was not in the OP; Gebhardt’s text comes from the original preserved in the Orphanage of the Mennonite Collegiants in Amsterdam. Letter 30 also was not in the OP. It consists of two fragments discovered at different times in Oldenburg’s correspondence. Wolf discovered the first and published it in Philosophy 10 (1935): 200–204. He had found it quoted—as news from “an odd philosopher, that lives in Holland, but no Hollander”—in a letter from Oldenburg to Sir Robert Moray, 7 October 1665. The second was first published in an edition of Boyle’s works (The Works of the Honourable Robert Boyle [London, 1744]). Oldenburg quoted it in a letter to Boyle of 10 October 1665, in which Oldenburg again described Spinoza as “a certain odd philosopher,” but this time added “whom you know better than he [Sir Robert Moray], it being Signior Spinoza.” Gebhardt has only the second fragment.

Letter 31 is mainly from the OP, where it is Letter 14. A few words have been added from the NS version. Letter 32 was Letter 15 in the OP, whose text is the primary basis for the translation. But some text (marked “A” for autograph) has been added from the original, which is in the possession of the Royal Society in London. Letter 33 is Letter 16 in the OP (with a brief addition from the NS version).

Spinoza and Hudde

Letters 34–36 (to Hudde) were all written originally in Dutch and appeared in both the OP and the NS, where they are Letters 39–41. Neither the OP nor the NS indicates the addressee of these letters. Van Vloten and Land thought they were written to Huygens. More recent editors have concluded that Hudde was the addressee. There is a note by Leibniz to this effect (AHW), and the recent discovery of Hudde’s Specilla circularia, to which Spinoza refers in Letter 36, confirms it.

Van Vloten and Land and Gebhardt assumed that Spinoza had translated the Dutch originals into Latin for the OP, and that the NS translator retranslated the Latin versions back into Dutch, which would make the NS versions further removed from the original than the OP versions. I believe Akkerman has shown that this is extremely unlikely.¹⁰ But I believe Akkerman has also shown it to be unlikely that the NS versions simply reproduce the originals, that the Dutch of the NS had probably received some editorial revisions, and that the Latin translations of the OP were probably done from the original. Following the lead of AHW, I translate the OP version, noting potentially significant NS variations in the notes.

Spinoza and Bouwmeester

Letter 37 (to Bouwmeester) was written originally in Latin and is Letter 42 in the OP and NS. A copy, not in Spinoza’s hand, was preserved in the Orphanage of the Mennonite Collegiants and printed by Gebhardt at the bottom of the page. I translate the OP version, noting variations in the copy where I think they might be interesting.

Spinoza and Van der Meer

Letter 38 (to Van der Meer), originally written in Dutch, is known only from the NS and the OP translation. Gebhardt prints the NS version in the upper half of the page, because he doesn’t think Spinoza himself was responsible for the OP version. His reasons for thinking this may be dubious, but his conclusion is probably right. I translate the NS version, noting potentially significant variations in the OP.

Spinoza and Jelles

Letters 39–41 (to Jelles) were originally written in Dutch. Gebhardt gives priority to the Latin versions of the OP, on the theory (rejected above) that Spinoza himself was responsible for that translation. The situation is similar to that in the letters to Hudde. But in this case I give priority to the Dutch versions, relegating the variations in the Latin to the footnotes. They are letters 44–46 in the NS.

1. On Spinoza’s relations with Huygens, see Nadler 1999, 203–4, 221–22.

2. Cf. TTP Pref., §12, with Letter 30, fragment 2.

3. For information on Koerbagh, see Nadler 1999, 170–71, 264–69, and Israel 2001, ch. 10. It’s now possible to read an English translation of Een Ligt in Koerbagh/Wielema 2011, with a very informative introduction by Wiep van Bunge discussing Adriaan Koerbagh, his brother, Johannes, and the circle of radical religious thinkers they belonged to. At this point Een Bloemhof seems to be available only in the Dutch original. See Koerbagh 1668.

4. However, Secretan 1987, following Schoneveld 1983, suggests that some parts of Hobbes’ Leviathan may have been available to Spinoza as early as 1655.

5. The idea that Leviathan might have suggested a secular way of defending religious liberty may seem strange to those who identify religious liberty with the separation of church and state, and see Hobbes’ subordination of church to state as antithetical to religious liberty. In Curley 2007 I’ve argued for a reading of Hobbes which makes him more friendly to that value. For a more extended discussion of these issues, see Nelson 2010. If Hobbes did influence Spinoza’s thought in this area, his influence may not have been direct. His work was quite popular in the Dutch Republic and Spinoza would have encountered Hobbesian ideas in Van Hove 1661.

6. For an explanation of this reference, see “Provenance of the Letters,” p. 7.

7. See Vermij and Atzema 1995. The work Vermij and Atzema publish in that article is evidently the work in dioptrics Spinoza refers to in Letter 36. For a discussion of Spinoza’s place in the history of optics, see Klever and Van Zuylen 1990.

8. For further details on Jelles and the Collegiant movement, see Nadler 1999, 140–41, 168–69; Steenbakkers 1994, passim; and Fix 1991.

9. See AHW, 46.

10. See Akkerman 1980, 47–57.

[IV/164] LETTER 29 (A)

HENRY OLDENBURG TO THE VERY ILLUSTRIOUS GENTLEMAN B. D. S.

[5] Most Excellent Sir, and dearest Friend,

From your last letter to me, written on 4 September,¹ it is clear that You take our affairs to heart, not casually. You have obliged not only me, but also our most noble Mr. Boyle, who joins me in sending you the greatest thanks, and who will, at the earliest opportunity, repay [10] your kindness and affection with every kind of service he can render. You can be sure that the same is true of me.

As for that overzealous man who, in spite of the translation of the Treatise on Colors² now ready here, nevertheless wanted to prepare another one, perhaps he will think he has acted against his [15] own interest in his ill-timed eagerness. For what will become of his Translation if the Author should enlarge the Latin version available here in England with a great many Experiments not found in the English edition? Necessarily ours, to be distributed shortly now, would then be completely preferred to his, and thought much more [20] valuable by all sensible men. But let him be pleased with himself, if he wishes. We shall look after our own business as seems most advisable to us.

Kircher’s Subterranean World³ has not yet appeared in our English world, because of the plague,⁴ which prohibits almost all commerce. In addition we have this dreadful War,⁵ which brings with it nothing [25] but an Iliad of evils, and almost banishes all civilized behavior from the world.

In the meantime, however, although our Philosophic Society⁶ holds no public meetings at this dangerous time, nevertheless here and there its Fellows do not forget that they are such. So separately some devote themselves to Hydrostatic Experiments, some to Anatomical Experiments, others to Mechanical Experiments, and still others to other [30] subjects. Mr. Boyle has examined the origin of Forms and Qualities as it has heretofore been treated in the Schools and by teachers and has [IV/165] composed a treatise on it—undoubtedly excellent—which will soon go to press.⁷

I see that You are not so much philosophizing as (if it is permissible to speak thus) Theologizing; for you are recording your thoughts about Angels,⁸ prophecy and miracles. But perhaps you are doing this Philosophically. However that may be, I am sure that the work will be [5] worthy of you and something I shall want very much to see. Since these very difficult times stand in the way of freedom of communication, I ask you at least not to be reluctant to indicate to me in your next letter what your plan and aim are in this writing of yours.

Every day we expect news here of a second naval battle, unless perhaps [10] your Fleet has returned again to port. The courage which you hint is debated among you is bestial, not human. For if men acted according to the guidance of reason, they would not tear one another to pieces in this way, as anyone can see. But why am I complaining? There will be vices as long as there are men. But they don’t go on without interruption, and they are compensated for by the arrival of better times.⁹

[15] While I was writing this, a letter was delivered to me from the distinguished Danzig Astronomer, Mr. Johannes Hevelius,¹⁰ who tells me, among other things, that his Cometography, consisting of twelve books, has already been in press for a whole year now, and that 400 pages, or the first nine books, are finished. He indicates, furthermore, that he [20] has sent me several Copies of his Prodromus Cometicus, in which he has described fully the first of the two recent Comets.¹¹ But these have not yet reached me. He has decided, in addition, to publish another book on the second Comet, and to submit it to the judgment of the learned.

You would oblige me if you would tell me what your people think of Huygens’ Pendulums, especially those which are said to provide such [25] an exact measure of time that they could serve to determine Longitudes at sea. Also, what is happening about his Dioptrics, and his Treatise On Motion, both of which we have long been waiting for now? I am certain that he is not idle. I would just like to know what progress he [30] is making. May you fare well and continue to love

Your most devoted,
Henry Oldenburg

To M. Benedictus Spinoza,

In the Baggyne Street

In the house of Mr. Daniel, the painter,

[35] At the sign of Adam and Eve, in The Hague¹²

[London, c. 20 September 1665]¹³

[IV/166] LETTER 30 (C)

B. D. S. TO THE MOST NOBLE AND LEARNED GENTLEMAN HENRY OLDENBURG

[Fragment 1]¹⁴

I have seen Kircher’s Subterranean World at Mr. Huygens’. He praises Kircher’s piety, but not his ability. I don’t know whether this is because Kircher treats pendulums, and concludes that they will not help at all to discover longitudes (which is completely opposed to Huygens’ opinion).

You want to know what Our People think of Huygens’ new Pendulums. As yet I can’t tell you anything definite about this. Still, I know this: the craftsman who has the exclusive right to make them is completely giving up the work, because he can’t sell them. I don’t know whether this is because commerce has been interrupted [by the war] or because he’s trying to sell them at too high a price. He’s asking 300 Caroline florins each.¹⁵

When I asked Huygens about his dioptrics, and about his other treatise on Parhelia, he replied that he is still investigating something in dioptrics, but that as soon as he has discovered it, he will send that book to the press, together with the treatise on Parhelia. But I believe that at present he is thinking more about his trip to France than about anything else (for he is preparing to go to France to live, as soon as his father has returned).¹⁶

What he says he is investigating in Dioptrics is “Whether the lenses in Telescopes can be so arranged that the defect of one corrects the defect of the other, so that all the parallel rays passing through the objective lens will arrive at the eye as if they came together in a mathematical point?” This still seems to me impossible.¹⁷ For the rest, in the whole of his dioptric—as I’ve partly seen, and partly, if I’m not mistaken, understood from him—he only discusses spherical figures.

But as for the treatise on motion about which you also ask, I think you are waiting for it in vain.¹⁸ It’s too long now since he began to boast that by calculation he had discovered rules of motion and laws of nature far different from those Descartes gives, and that Descartes’ rules and laws are almost all false. Still, so far he has not published any example of this. I know, of course, that about a year ago he told me that all the things he had previously discovered about motion by calculation he afterward found had been proven in England by experiments. But I hardly believe this.¹⁹ Moreover, as regards Descartes’ sixth rule of motion,²⁰ I judge that he and Descartes are both completely mistaken. . . .

[Fragment 2]

[IV/166/5] . . . I rejoice that your philosophers are alive and mindful of themselves and their republic.²¹ I shall wait for news of what they have done lately, when the warriors are sated with blood, and rest, to restore their strength a bit. If that famous mocker²² were alive in this age, he would surely die of laughter. But these turmoils move me, [10] neither to laughter nor even to tears, but to philosophizing and to observing human nature better. For I do not think it right for me to mock nature, much less to lament it, when I reflect that men, like all other things, are only a part of nature, and that I do not know how each part of nature agrees with the whole to which it belongs, and how it coheres with the other parts. And I find, simply from the lack [15] of this knowledge, that certain things in nature, which I perceive in part and only in mutilated way, and which do not agree at all with our philosophic mind, previously seemed to me vain, disorderly and absurd, whereas now I permit each to live according to his own mentality. Surely those who wish to die for their good may do so, so long as I am allowed to live for the true good.

[20] I am now composing a treatise on my opinion about scripture.²³ The considerations which move me to do this are the following:

1) the prejudices of the theologians; for I know that they are the greatest obstacle to men’s being able to apply their minds to philosophy; so I am busy exposing them and removing them from the minds of the more prudent;

[25] 2) the opinion the common people have of me; they never stop accusing me of atheism,²⁴ and I am forced to rebut this accusation as well as I can; and

3) the freedom of philosophizing and saying what we think, which I want to defend in every way; here the preachers suppress it as much as they can with their excessive authority and aggressiveness.²⁵

[30] I do not yet hear that any Cartesian explains the phenomena of the recent comets on the Cartesian hypothesis, and I doubt that they can be rightly explained on that hypothesis. . . .²⁶

[Voorburg, c. 1 October 1665]²⁷

[IV/167] LETTER 31 (OP)

HENRY OLDENBURG TO THE MOST DISTINGUISHED GENTLEMAN B. D. S.

[5] Most excellent sir, dear friend,

You act as becomes a judicious Man and a Philosopher: you love good Men. Nor should you doubt that they love you in return and judge your merits as they should. Mr. Boyle joins me in sending you warm greetings, and exhorts you to proceed with your Philosophizing [10] vigorously and precisely. Above all, if your investigation has shed any light on that difficult question concerning our knowledge of how each part of Nature agrees with its whole and in what way it agrees with other things, we ask you, most affectionately, to communicate it to us.

I entirely approve the reasons you mention as inducing you to compose [15] a Treatise on Scripture, and I passionately want to be able to see for myself what you have written on that subject. Mr. Serrarius may soon be sending me a small parcel.²⁸ If it seems appropriate to you, you can safely commit to him what you have already written, and be [20] assured that we shall be prompt in returning the favor.

I have glanced, to some extent, at Kircher’s Subterranean World. Though his reasonings and theories do not speak well for his ability, still, his Observations and Experiments, as he reports them to us there, testify to the Author’s diligence and his desire to deserve well from the [25] Republic of Philosophers. So you see, I ascribe a bit more to him than piety, and you will easily recognize the intent of those who sprinkle him with this Holy water.

When you speak about Huygens’ Treatise on Motion, you hint that Descartes’ Rules of motion are almost all false. I do not now have at hand the little book you previously published, concerning Descartes’ [30] principles, Demonstrated Geometrically. And I do not recall whether you showed that falsity there, or whether, to oblige others, you simply followed Descartes’ tracks.

[IV/168] I wish you would finally reveal the fruit of your own talent, and entrust it to the Philosophical world, to cherish and nourish. I remember that somewhere²⁹ you claimed that we can understand and explain very clearly many of the things Descartes said surpass human understanding, [5] indeed, that we can grasp things which are much more sublime and subtle. What’s stopping you, my Friend? What are you afraid of? Try it. Get on with it. Finish it. It’s a task of such importance! You will see that the whole Chorus of real Philosophers will be your advocate. I am bold [10] enough to pledge my loyalty, which I would not do if I doubted whether I would be able to honor my pledge. I cannot in any way believe that you intend to undertake anything against the Existence and Providence of God.³⁰ As long as these supports are intact, Religion stands firm, and any Philosophic Contemplations are easily either defended or excused. Don’t delay any longer, then, and don’t let the critics hold you back.

[15] I should think you will soon learn what is to be said about the recent Comets. The Dantziger, Hevelius, and the Frenchman, Auzout³¹—both learned Men and Mathematicians—are debating about the Observations they have made. At the moment the controversy is being investigated; when the dispute has been adjudicated, I believe someone will communicate [20] the whole matter to me, and I to you. This I can say now: all the Astronomers I know, at least, judge that there were not one, but two, Comets, and I have not met anyone yet who has tried to explain their Phenomena according to the Cartesian Hypothesis.

If you learn anything further about the studies and works of Mr. [25] Huygens, about the success of his pendulums [NS: in the matter of determining Longitudes], or about his move to France, I beg you not to hesitate to let me know about it as soon as possible. And please add whatever may be said among You about a peace Treaty, about the plans of the Swedish army which has been sent to Germany, and about [30] the progress of the Bishop of Munster.³² I believe that next summer the whole of Europe will be involved in wars, and everything seems to be tending toward a strange change.³³ Let us serve the supreme Deity with a pure mind, and cultivate a Philosophy which is true, solid and useful.

Some of our Philosophers, having followed the King to Oxford,³⁴ [35] have fairly frequent meetings there, and discuss the advancement of [IV/169] Physical studies. Among other things they have recently begun to inquire into the nature of Sounds. I believe they will conduct Experiments to determine by what proportion you must increase weights to stretch a string, without any other force, so that it will produce a higher Note which makes an assigned consonance with the first sound. More about [5] these matters at another time. Farewell, and remember,

Your most devoted,
Henry Oldenburg

London, 12 October 1665

LETTER 32 (OP)

B. D. S. TO THE MOST NOBLE AND LEARNED GENTLEMAN, HENRY OLDENBURG

Reply to the Preceding

[15] Most Noble Sir,

I am most grateful both to you and to the very Noble Mr. Boyle for your kind encouragement of my philosophizing. Indeed, I proceed as well as I can, considering the slenderness of my ability, never doubting, in the meantime, your assistance and good will.

[20] When you ask me what I think about the question concerning our knowledge of how each part of Nature agrees with its whole and how [IV/170a] it coheres with the others, I think you are asking for the reasons by which we are persuaded that each part of Nature agrees with its whole and coheres with the others. For I already said in my preceding [5] Letter that I don’t know [A: absolutely] how they really cohere and how each part agrees with its whole. To know that would require knowing the whole of Nature and all of its parts. So I shall try to show [A: as briefly as I can] the reason which compels me to affirm this. But first I should like to warn that I attribute to Nature neither [10] beauty, nor ugliness, neither order nor confusion. For only in relation to our imagination can things be called beautiful or ugly, orderly or confused.

By the coherence of parts, then, I understand nothing but that the laws or the nature of the one part adapts itself to the laws or the nature of the other part so that they are opposed to each other as little as [15] possible. Concerning whole and parts, I consider things as parts of some whole to the extent that the nature of the one adapts itself to that of the other so that they [A: all] agree with one another as far as possible. But insofar as they disagree with one another, to that extent [IV/171a] each forms in our Mind an idea distinct from the others, and therefore it is considered as a whole and not as a part.

For example, when the motions of the particles of lymph, chyle, etc., so adapt themselves to one another, in relation to their size and shape, [5] that they completely agree with one another, and they all constitute one fluid together, to that extent only the chyle, lymph, etc., are considered as parts of the blood. But insofar as we conceive the particles of lymph, by reason of their shape and motion, to differ from the particles of chyle, to that extent we consider them as a whole and not as a part.

Let us feign³⁵ now, if you please, that there is a little worm living [10] in the blood which is capable of distinguishing by sight the particles of the blood, of lymph, [A: of chyle], etc., and capable of observing by reason how each particle, when it encounters another, either bounces back, or communicates a part of its motion, etc. Indeed, it would live in this blood as we do in this part of the universe, and would consider [15] each particle of the blood as a whole, not as a part. It could not know how all the parts of the blood are regulated by the universal nature of the blood, and compelled to adapt themselves to one another, as the universal nature of the blood requires, so that they agree with one another in a definite way.

[IV/172a] For if we should feign that there are no causes outside the blood which would communicate new motions to the blood, and no space outside the blood, nor any other bodies to which the particles of blood could transfer their motion, it is certain that the blood would always [5] remain in the same state, and its particles would undergo no variations other than those which can be conceived from the given relation of the motion of the blood to the lymph, chyle, etc.³⁶ Thus the blood would always have to be considered as a whole and not as a part. But because there are a great many other causes which regulate the laws of the nature of the blood in a definite way,³⁷ and which in turn are regulated by the [10] blood, the result is that other motions and other variations arise in [A: the particles of] the blood which follow not simply from the relation of the motion of its parts to one another, but from the relation of the motion of the blood [A: as a whole] and of its external causes to one another. In this way the blood has the nature of a part and not of a whole. This is what I say concerning whole and part.

[15] Now all bodies in nature can and must be conceived as we have here conceived the blood, for all bodies are surrounded by others, and are determined by one another to existing and producing an effect in [IV/173a] a fixed and determinate way, the same ratio of motion to rest always being preserved in all of them at once, [that is, in the whole universe].³⁸ From this it follows that every body, insofar as it exists modified in a definite way, must be considered as a part of the whole universe, must agree with its whole and must cohere with the remaining bodies. And [5] since the nature of the universe is not limited, as the nature of the blood is, but is absolutely infinite, [its parts are regulated in infinite ways by this nature of the infinite power, and compelled to undergo infinitely many variations].³⁹

But in relation to substance I conceive each part to have a closer union with its whole. For as I tried to demonstrate previously in my [10] first Letter (which I wrote to you while I was still living in Rijnsburg), since it is of the nature of substance to be infinite, it follows that each part pertains to the nature of corporeal substance, and can neither be nor be conceived without it.⁴⁰

[15] You see, therefore, how and why I think that the human Body is a part of Nature.⁴¹ But as far as the human Mind is concerned, I think it is a part of Nature⁴² too. For I maintain that there is also in nature an infinite power of thinking, which, insofar as it is infinite, contains [IV/174a] in itself objectively the whole of Nature, and whose thoughts proceed in the same way as Nature, its object, does. Next, I maintain that the human Mind is this same power, not insofar as it is infinite and perceives [5] the whole of Nature, but insofar as it is finite and perceives only the human body. For this reason I maintain that the human Mind is a part of a certain infinite intellect.

But it would take too long to explain accurately and demonstrate here all these things, along with those connected with them. And I do not think you expect this of me at present. Indeed, I wonder whether [10] I have sufficiently grasped your intention, and have not answered a different question than the one you were asking. Please let me know.

As for what you write next—that I hinted that Descartes’ Rules of motion are almost all false—if I remember rightly, I said that Mr. Huygens thinks this. I did not affirm that any of the Rules was false except [15] the sixth.⁴³ And about that, I said I think Mr. Huygens is also wrong. On that occasion I asked you to communicate to me the experiment you have tried according to this hypothesis in your Royal Society. But since you say nothing about this, I infer that you are not permitted to reply.

Huygens has been, and still is, completely occupied with polishing [IV/175a] lenses. To this end he has constructed a rather elegant instrument on which he can also turn the lenses. But what progress he has made with this I still do not know. Nor, to confess the truth, do I greatly desire to know.⁴⁴ For experience has taught me sufficiently that spherical lenses are more safely and better polished with a free hand than with [5] any sort of instrument. Concerning the success of his pendulums and the timing of his move to France, I cannot yet write anything certain.

[IV/175b] [A: The Bishop of Munster, having foolishly gone into Frisia, as Aesop’s [15] goat went into the well,⁴⁵ has not been able to accomplish anything. Indeed, unless the winter begins very early, he will not be able to leave Frisia without great losses. There is no doubt that it was only because of the urging of some traitor that he dared to undertake this action. But all these things are too old to be written as news. And in the last week or two, nothing new has happened which is worth writing about.

[20] There appears to be no hope of a peace with the English. Nevertheless, there was a rumor recently because of some conjecture about a Dutch envoy who was sent to France, and also because the people of Overijsel, who are trying with all their might to bring in the prince of Orange, had dreamed up a way to do this: they would send the prince to England as a mediator. (Many think this is more to spite the Hollanders [25] than for their own advantage.) But the reality is quite different. For the moment the Hollanders do not even dream of peace—unless it should turn out that they can buy peace with money.

There is still doubt about the plans of the Swede. Most think that [30] his objective is Mainz; some think the Hollanders. But these are only conjectures.

I wrote this letter last week, but I could not send it because the weather prevented me from going to The Hague. That is the disadvantage of living in a village. Rarely do I receive a letter without delay, for unless by some chance there is an opportunity to send it to me immediately, [35] a week or two passes before I receive it. And it is not unusual for some [IV/176] difficulty to arise when I want to send a letter. So when you see that I do not reply to you as promptly as I ought to, you should not think that this comes from my forgetting you. Meanwhile, the time presses me to bring this letter to a conclusion. I shall write about the other things on another occasion. For now I can only ask you to convey my warmest [5] greetings to the most Noble Mr. Boyle, and to remember me, who am

Yours with all affection,
B. de Spinoza
Voorburg, November 1665

P.S.: I should like to know whether all the astronomers judge that [10] there were two comets from their motion, or in order to preserve Kepler’s hypothesis.⁴⁶ Farewell.]

To: Mr. Henry Oldenburg, Secretary of the Royal Society, in the Pall Mall, in St. James’ fields, in London

LETTER 33 (OP)

HENRY OLDENBURG TO THE MOST DISTINGUISHED GENTLEMAN B. D. S.

Most excellent sir, Dearest friend,

[25] Your philosophical account of the agreement of the parts of Nature with the whole, and their connection, is very pleasing, although I do not [IV/177] sufficiently follow how we can eliminate the order and symmetry from nature, as you seem to do, especially since you yourself recognize that all its bodies are surrounded by others, and are mutually determined, in a definite and constant manner, both to existing and producing an [5] effect with the same ratio of motion to rest always being preserved in all together. This seems to be the formal ground itself of a true order.

But perhaps I don’t sufficiently understand you here, any more than I did in what you wrote previously about Descartes’ Rules. If only you were willing to take the trouble to explain to me thoroughly in what respect you judge that both Descartes and Huygens are mistaken about [10] the rules of motion. You would please me very much by doing me this favor, which I would indeed do my best to deserve.

I was not present when Mr. Huygens performed his Experiments here in London, proving his Hypothesis. In the meantime, I understand that, among other experiments, someone suspended a one pound ball in the manner of a pendulum, which was then released, striking another [15] ball suspended in the same way (but weighing only half a pound) from an angle of forty degrees. Huygens had predicted, after making a brief Algebraic Calculation, what the effect would be, and the effect was exactly as he had predicted. A certain distinguished Gentleman,⁴⁷ who is now away, had proposed many such Experiments, which Huygens [20] is said to have solved. As soon as I have the opportunity to see him, perhaps I will explain this matter to you more fully and precisely.

Meanwhile I urge you once again not to decline the request I made above. Furthermore, if you know anything about Huygens’ success in polishing Telescopic Lenses, please don’t be reluctant to share it with me. Now that, by the grace of God, the plague is markedly less [25] virulent, I hope that our Royal Society will return to London shortly and resume its weekly meetings. If anything worthy of note happens there, you can be assured that I will certainly communicate it to you.

Previously I had mentioned some Anatomical Observations. Mr. Boyle [20] (who greets you very graciously) wrote me not long ago that some distinguished Anatomists at Oxford had assured him that they had found the Windpipe—both of certain Sheep and of Oxen—filled with grass, and that a few weeks ago these Anatomists were invited to examine [35] an Ox which for two or three days had almost continuously held its [IV/178] neck stiff and upright, and had died of an illness which its owners were completely unfamiliar with. When they dissected the parts relating to the neck and throat, they found, to their surprise, that its Windpipe, deep inside the trunk itself, was filled with grass, as if someone had forced it in. This suggested a good reason to ask two questions: how [5] did such a large quantity of grass get there? And when it was there, how could an animal of this kind survive so long?⁴⁸

In addition, the same Friend has told me that a certain inquisitive Doctor, also at Oxford, has found Milk in human blood. He relates that [10] a girl who had had a rather large breakfast at seven in the morning was bled in the foot at eleven on the same day. The first blood was collected in a Dish and after a short time took on a white color; but the later blood flowed into a smaller vessel, which (unless I’m mistaken) they call an acetabulum (in English, a sawcer), where it immediately took [15] the form of a cake of milk. Five or six hours later the Doctor returned and inspected both samples of blood. The sample in the Dish was half blood, but half chyleform, and this chyle floated in the blood, like whey [20] in milk. But the sample in the saucer was all chyle, without any appearance of blood. And when he heated each of them separately over a fire, both liquids became hard. But the girl was quite well, and was bled only because she had never had her period, although she had a healthy color.⁴⁹

But I pass to Politics. Here there is a rumor on everyone’s lips that [25] the Israelites, who have been scattered for more than two thousand years, will return to their Native Land.⁵⁰ Few here believe this, though many desire it.⁵¹ Please tell your friend what you hear and think about this. For my part, so long as this News is not reported by trustworthy Men from the City of Constantinople, to whom this matter is of the [30] Greatest concern, I cannot trust it. I’m eager to know what the Jews in Amsterdam have heard about this matter, and how they are affected by such an important report, which, if it should be true, seems that it will lead to⁵² a sudden Overturning of everything in the World.

[NS: As yet there seems to be no hope of Peace between England [35] and the Netherlands.]

[IV/179] Explain, if you can, what the Swede and the Brandenburger are trying to do. And believe me to be

Your most devoted,
Henry Oldenburg
London, 8 December 1665

[5] P.S. Soon, God willing, I shall tell you what our Philosophers think about the recent Comets.

LETTER 34 (OP)

TO THE MOST ESTEEMED AND WISE MR. JOHANNES HUDDE FROM B. D. S.

Version

Most Esteemed Sir,

Till now other business has prevented me from sending you what you asked for, and I undertook to provide, a demonstration of the Unity [15] of God⁵³ from the fact that his Nature involves necessary existence. To do now what I promised, I shall presuppose that:

(1) The true definition of each thing contains nothing beyond the simple nature of the thing defined.

From this it follows that

[20] (2) No definition involves or expresses any multiplicity or any definite number of individuals since it involves or expresses nothing but the nature of the thing, as it is in itself.

For example, the Definition of a triangle contains nothing but the simple nature of the triangle, not some definite number of triangles, just as the [25] definition of the Mind, that it is a thinking thing, or the definition of God, that he is a perfect Being, contains nothing but the nature of the Mind, or of God. It does not contain a definite number of Minds or Gods.

(3) There must necessarily be a positive cause of each existing thing, through [30] which it exists.

[IV/180] (4) That this cause must be affirmed to exist either in the nature and definition of the thing itself—because existence pertains to its nature, or its nature necessarily contains existence—or outside the thing.

From these presuppositions it follows that if some definite number of [5] individuals exists in nature, there must be one or more causes which were able to produce precisely that number of Individuals, neither more nor fewer. For example, if twenty men exist in nature—to avoid all confusion I shall suppose that they exist together and without predecessors in nature—it will not be sufficient, to give a reason why the twenty exist, [10] to investigate the cause of human nature in general. What must also be investigated is the reason why neither more nor fewer than twenty men exist. For (according to the third hypothesis)⁵⁴ concerning each man a reason and cause must be given why he exists. But (according to the second and third hypotheses) that cause cannot be contained in [15] the nature of the man himself, for the true definition of man does not involve the number of twenty men. Therefore (according to the fourth hypothesis), the cause of the existence of these twenty men, and hence of each of them separately, must exist outside them.

Hence we must conclude, without qualification, that all those things [20] which are conceived to exist as many in number, necessarily result from external causes, and are not produced by the force of their own nature. But since (according to the second hypothesis) necessary existence pertains to the Nature of God, it is necessary that his true definition should contain his necessary existence. And for that reason his necessary [25] existence is to be inferred from his true definition. But from his true definition (as I have already demonstrated previously from the second and third hypotheses) the necessary existence of many Gods cannot be inferred. There follows, therefore, only the existence of one God. Q.E.D.

This, most Esteemed Sir, is the Method which seemed best to me at [30] this time to demonstrate the proposition. Previously I demonstrated it in a different way, using the distinction between Essence and Existence. But because I noted what you said to me, I was quite happy to send you this demonstration. I hope you will find it satisfactory, and I shall await your judgment on it. In the meantime I remain, etc.

Voorburg, 7 January 1666

[IV/181] LETTER 35 (OP)

TO THE MOST ESTEEMED AND WISE JOHANNES HUDDE FROM B. D. S.

[5] Version

Most Esteemed Sir,

In your last letter, written on 30 March, you have cleared up very nicely what was somewhat obscure to me in your earlier letter, of 10 February. Since I know, therefore, what your own opinion is, I shall [10] pose the state of the Question as you conceive it: namely, whether there is only one Being which subsists by its own sufficiency or power? Not only do I affirm this, I also undertake to demonstrate it from the fact that his nature involves necessary existence—although it can also be demonstrated very easily either from God’s intellect (as I showed in P11 [15] of my Geometric Demonstrations of Descartes’ “Principles”) or from God’s other attributes. So to undertake this task I shall first show briefly what properties a being possessing necessary existence must have, namely:

[20] (1) That it is eternal. For if a limited duration were attributed to it, that Being would be conceived as not existing beyond that limited duration, or as not involving necessary existence, which would be contrary to its definition.

(2) That it is simple, and not composed of parts. For component parts must [25] be prior in nature and knowledge to what is composed of them. In a being eternal by its nature this cannot be.

(3) That it is not limited, but can be conceived only as infinite. For if the nature of that Being were limited, and also were conceived as limited, that [30] nature would be conceived as not existing outside those limits, which would also be contrary to its definition.

[IV/182] (4) That it is indivisible. For if it were divisible, it could be divided into parts, either of the same or of a different nature. If the latter, it could be destroyed, and so could fail to exist, which is contrary to its definition. If the former, each part would involve necessary existence through itself, and [5] in this way one could exist, and consequently be conceived, without the other, for that reason, that Nature could be grasped as finite, which (by the preceding proposition) is contrary to the definition.

From this we see that if we want to ascribe any imperfection to a Being of this kind, we shall immediately fall into a contradiction. For whether the [10] imperfection we want to feign in such a Nature is located in some defect or certain limits which a Nature of that kind would possess, or in some change which it could undergo from external causes, by some lack of power, we are always reduced to this: that that Nature which involves necessary existence [15] does not exist, or does not exist necessarily. For that reason I conclude

(5) that whatever involves necessary existence cannot have in it any imperfection, but must express pure perfection.

Next,

[20] (6) since the only possible result of perfection is that a Being exists by its own sufficiency and power, it follows that if we suppose that a Being which does not express all perfections exists of its own nature, we must also suppose that that Being also exists which comprehends in itself all perfections. For if a Being endowed with a lesser power exists by its own sufficiency, how [25] much more must another endowed with a greater power.

To come finally to the point, I affirm that there can only be one Being whose existence pertains to its nature, namely, only that Being which has all perfections in itself, and which I call God. For if a Being [30] is affirmed to whose nature existence pertains, that Being must contain no imperfection in itself, but must express every perfection (by proposition 5). And therefore the nature of that Being must pertain to God (who, by proposition 6, we must also hold exists), because he has all [35] perfections, and no imperfections, in him. Nor can it exist outside of [IV/183] God. For if it did, one and the same Nature which involves necessary existence would exist in two forms, which according to the preceding demonstration is absurd. Therefore, nothing outside God, but God alone involves necessary existence. This is what was to be Demonstrated.

These, most Esteemed Sir, are the things I can produce now to demonstrate this point. I would like also to be permitted to demonstrate to you that I am, etc.

B. d. S.
Voorburg, 10 April 1666

LETTER 36 (OP)

TO THE MOST ESTEEMED AND WISE MR. JOHANNES HUDDE FROM B. D. S.

Version

Most Esteemed Sir,

I have not been able to respond more quickly to your letter of 19 May (because of some obstacle). Because I see that for the most part you are suspending judgment about the demonstration I sent you—I think because of the obscurity you find in it—I shall try to explain its meaning more clearly here.

[20] First, I enumerated four properties which a Being existing by its own sufficiency or power must have. These four, and the others like them, I reduced to one in the fifth proposition. Next, to deduce everything necessary for the demonstration only from the given supposition,⁵⁵ I tried in the sixth proposition to demonstrate God’s existence. And from [25] that, finally, presupposing as known nothing more than the simple meaning of words, I inferred the conclusion sought.

This, briefly, was what I proposed; this was my aim. Now I shall explain separately the meaning of each step, and I shall begin with the properties set out first.

[IV/184] You do not find any difficulty in the first proposition. And it is nothing but an Axiom, as is the second also. For by “simple” I understand nothing but what is not composite, whether it is composed of parts differing in nature or of parts agreeing in nature. The demonstration [5] is certainly universal.

You have perceived very well the meaning of the third, as far as this is concerned: that if the Being is thought, then it cannot be conceived to be limited⁵⁶ in thought, but only unlimited,⁵⁷ and similarly, if it is Extension, it cannot be conceived to be limited in extension. But you say that you do not perceive the conclusion, which nevertheless [10] rests on this: that it is a contradiction to conceive something whose definition involves existence (or what is the same, affirms existence) under a negation of existence. And since the limited denotes nothing positive, but only the privation of the existence of the same nature which is conceived as limited, it follows that something whose definition [15] affirms existence cannot be conceived as limited. For example, if the term extension involves necessary existence, it will be as impossible to conceive extension without existence as it is to conceive extension without extension. And if this is maintained, it will also be impossible to conceive a limited extension. For if it were conceived to be limited, [20] it would have to be limited by its own nature, namely, by extension. And this extension by which it was limited would have to be conceived under the negation of existence. But by hypothesis, this is a manifest contradiction.

In the fourth proposition all I wanted to show was that such a being [25] cannot be divided into parts, either of the same or of a different nature, whether those of a different nature involve necessary existence or not. For, I said, if the latter were the case, it could be destroyed, since to destroy a thing is to separate it into parts of the same kind so that none of them expresses the nature of the whole. But if the former were the [30] case, that would be inconsistent with the three properties already proven.

In the fifth I presupposed only that perfection consists in being and imperfection in the privation of being. I say privation, for although extension, for example, may deny thought of itself, this in itself is not [IV/185] an imperfection in it. But if it were deprived of extension, that would show an imperfection in it, as would really be the case if it were limited. Similarly if it lacked duration, position, etc.

You concede the sixth without reservation, and nevertheless you [5] say that your difficulty—namely, why there could not be many beings, existing through themselves, but differing in nature, just as thought and extension are different, and can perhaps subsist by their own sufficiency—remains untouched. I can only judge from this that you understand it in a sense very different from mine. I trust I see in what sense you [10] understand it. Still, not to lose time, I shall just explain my meaning.

I say, then, as far as the sixth proposition is concerned, that if we assert that something which is only unlimited in its own kind,⁵⁸ and perfect, exists by its own sufficiency, the existence of a being absolutely unlimited and perfect will also have to be conceded. This Being I call [15] God. For example, if we want to maintain that extension or thought (each of which can be perfect in its own kind, that is, in a definite kind of being) exists by its own sufficiency, we will also have to concede the existence of God, who is absolutely perfect, that is, of an absolutely unlimited being.

Here I should like you to note what I said just now about the term [20] imperfection, namely, that it signifies that something is lacking to a thing which pertains to its nature. For example, Extension can be called imperfect only in relation to duration, position or quantity, because it does not last longer, or does not keep its position, or is not larger. [25] But it will never be called imperfect because it does not think, since its nature, which consists only in extension, that is, in a definite kind of being, requires nothing of that sort. In this respect only limited or unlimited extension is to be called imperfect or perfect, respectively. And since the nature of God does not consist in a definite kind of being, [30] but in a Being which is absolutely unlimited, his nature also requires everything which expresses being perfectly, since otherwise his nature would be limited and deficient.

Since these things are so, it follows that there can only be one Being, God, which exists by its own force. For if we assert, for example, that [IV/186] extension involves existence, it must be eternal and unlimited , expressing absolutely no imperfection, but only perfection. Therefore, Extension will pertain to God, or it will be something which expresses God’s nature in some way. For God is a being which is, not just in a certain respect, but absolutely unlimited in being⁵⁹ and omnipotent. And this, [5] which is said of Extension (as an arbitrary example), will also have to be affirmed of everything we want to maintain as having such a nature.

I conclude, then, as in my preceding Letter, that nothing outside God, but only God, subsists by its own sufficiency. I believe these things suffice to explain the meaning of the preceding letter. But you will be [10] able to judge better than I concerning that.

With that I might finish. But because I intend to have new dishes made for polishing lenses, I’d like to get your advice about this. I do not see what we gain by grinding convex-concave lenses. On the contrary, if I have calculated properly, convex-plane ought to be more [15] useful. For if we suppose (for convenience sake) that the refractive index⁶⁰ is 3 to 2, and add letters in the figure below as you place them in your little Dioptrics,⁶¹ we will find, when the equation is set out, that NI (which is called z) = images.⁶² From this it follows that if x = 0, z will = 2, which is then also the longest.⁶³ And if images, then z [20] will = images or a little more, that is, if we suppose that the ray BI does not undergo a second refraction when it goes from the lens toward I.

But let us now suppose that when the ray proceeds from the lens, it [25] is refracted on the plane surface BF, and goes, not toward I, but toward R. Then when the lines BI and BR are in the same ratio as the refractive index, i.e. [30] (as is supposed here), 3 to 2, and when we then apply your equation, the result will be that NR = images. And if again, as before, we let x = 0, NR will = 1, that is, it will equal half the diameter. But if images, NR will = images.

This shows that this focal length will be shorter than the other, although the optic tube is shorter by a whole half the diameter. So [IV/187] if we were to make a Telescope as long as DI, by making the halfdiameter = to images, with the aperture BF remained the same, the focal length would be much less.

Moreover, the reason convex-concave lenses please me less is that, [5] apart from the fact that they require twice the labor and expense, since their rays are not all directed toward the same point, they never fall perpendicularly on a concave surface. But I have no doubt that you have already considered these things before, and made more accurate calculations, and finally settled the matter. So I ask your judgment and [10] advice about this matter, etc.

[Voorburg, June 1666]

LETTER 37 (OP)

TO THE VERY LEARNED AND EXPERIENCED MR. JOHANNES BOUWMEESTER FROM B. D. S.⁶⁴

[15] Most Learned Sir, special Friend,⁶⁵

I have not been able till now to reply to your last letter, which I received some time ago. I have been so hindered by various affairs and worries that only after much effort have I been able to free myself. However, since I am now granted a little relief, I don’t want to fail [20] in my duty, but I want to thank you as warmly as I can for your love and courtesy to me, which you have quite often demonstrated by your actions, but have now also shown more than sufficiently by your letter, etc.⁶⁶

I pass now to your question, which is: whether there is, or could be, a [IV/188a] Method which would enable us to proceed, without either obstruction or weariness, in thinking about the most excellent things? Or whether our minds, like our bodies, are also subject to chance events and our thoughts are governed more by fortune than by skill? I think I will do what is needed if I show [5] that there must, necessarily, be a Method by which we can direct and link our clear and distinct perceptions, and that the intellect is not subject, as the body is, to accidents.

This is evident simply from this: that one clear and distinct perception, or many together, can be absolutely the cause of another clear [10] and distinct perception. Indeed, all the clear and distinct perceptions we form can arise only from other clear and distinct perceptions in us, and cannot have any other cause outside us.⁶⁷ From this it follows that the clear and distinct perceptions we form depend only on our [15] nature, and its definite, fixed laws, that is, on our absolute power, not on fortune (that is, on causes which, although they too act according to definite and fixed laws, are nevertheless unknown to us and foreign to our nature and power). As for the rest of our perceptions, I confess that they depend on fortune in the highest degree.

From these considerations, then, it is clearly evident what the true [20] Method must be like, and in what it chiefly consists: namely, solely [IV/189a] in the knowledge of the pure intellect, and of its nature and laws.⁶⁸ To acquire this it is necessary above all else to distinguish between the intellect and the imagination, or between true ideas and the rest, namely, the fictitious, the false, the doubtful, and absolutely all those [5] which depend only on the memory. To understand these things, at least as far as the Method requires, it is not necessary to know the nature of the mind through its first cause, but it is sufficient to put together a little history of the mind, or of perceptions, in the way Bacon teaches.

With these few words I think I have explained and demonstrated the true Method, and at the same time, shown the Way by which we [10] may arrive at it. I should, however, still warn you that all these things require uninterrupted meditation, and a constant mind and purpose. To acquire these it is necessary above all to decide upon a definite way and principle of living, and to prescribe a definite end for oneself. But enough of these things for now.⁶⁹

Voorburg, 10 June 1666

[IV/190a] LETTER 38 (NS)

TO THE MOST DISTINGUISHED MR. JOHANNES VAN DER MEER FROM B. D. S.

Sir,

While I find myself isolated here in the country, I’ve been thinking about the problem you raised, and I’ve found it very simple. The general proof rests on this: that a person is playing fairly if his expectation⁷⁰ [10] of winning or losing is equal to that of his opponent. This expectation consists of the chance and the money the opponents stake and risk. That is, if the chance is equal on each side, then each player must also stake and risk equally much money. But if the chance is unequal, then one player must stake and put up more money in proportion as his [15] chance of winning is greater. In that way the expectation of each will be equal, and as a result, the game will be fair.

For example: if A is playing against B, and has two chances of winning and only one of losing, and on the other hand, B has only one chance [20] of winning, and two of losing, it’s clear that A must risk as much for [IV/191a] each of his two chances as B does for his [one]. That is, A must risk twice as much as B does.

To show this still more clearly, we’ll suppose that three people, A, B, and C, play together with equal chances of winning, and that each wagers an equal amount of money. It is evident that because each stakes [5] an equal amount of money, each also risks only 1/3 [of the total staked] to win 2/3, and that because each one plays against two, each also has only one chance to win, against two chances of losing. If we suppose that one of these three, say, C, departs before they have begun to play, it is evident that he ought to receive only what he staked—that is, a [10] 1/3 part—and that if B wants to buy C’s expectation, and take his place, he must stake as much as C has withdrawn. A cannot object, because it makes no difference to him whether with one chance he must take on two chances of two different men, or two chances of only one man.

[15] If we maintain this, it follows that if someone sticks out his hand for another man to guess one of two numbers, where he wins a certain sum if he guesses right, and loses an equal sum if he guesses wrong, [IV/192a] I say that the expectation is equal for each of them, that is, as much [IV/192a] for the one who sticks out his hand as for the one who must guess. Furthermore, if he sticks out his hand for another to guess in one opportunity one of three numbers, where he wins a certain sum if he guesses the number, but loses half that sum if he doesn’t guess it, the [5] expectation for each will be equal.

Similarly, the expectation will also be equal on each side if the one who sticks out his hand gives the other person two opportunities to guess, where if he guesses correctly, he wins a certain sum, and if he fails, he loses twice that amount. The expectation is also equal if he gives [10] him three opportunities to guess one of four numbers, to win a certain sum, or on the contrary, to lose three times that amount. Similarly, if he gives him four opportunities to guess one of five numbers, to win one sum, or lose four times that amount, etc.

From all this it follows that it’s the same for the one who sticks out [15] his hand and invites a guess, whether the other guesses as many times as he wants to, which of several numbers is the one, provided the one who guesses stakes and risks an amount proportional to the number of times he tries to guess, divided by the sum of the numbers. For example, if there are five numbers, and he can only guess once, then [20] he must risk only 1/5 against the other’s 4/5. If he will guess twice, [IV/193a] then he must risk 2/5 against the other’s 3/5. If three times, then 3/5 against the other’s 2/5, and so on—4/5 against the other’s 1/5 and 5/5 against 0/5. Consequently, it’s the same for the one who offers the bet, if he, for example, risks 1/6 of the total stake to win 5/6, whether [25] one man guesses five times, or five men guess once each. This was the problem you raised.

1 October 1666

[IV/193b] LETTER 39 (NS)

TO THE MOST WORTHY AND WISE MR. JARIG JELLES FROM B. D. S.

Dear Friend,⁷¹

Various problems have prevented my replying to your letter more quickly. I’ve examined what you noted concerning Descartes’ Dioptric.⁷² [30] He does not consider any other cause for larger or smaller images being formed at the base of the eye than the crossing of the rays which [IV/194b] come from different points on the object, that is, as they begin to cross [25] each other nearer to or further from the eye, without attending to the size of the angle the rays make when they cross each other on the surface of the eye. And although this last cause is the chief one to be noted in telescopes, it seems, nevertheless, that he wanted to pass over [30] it in silence, because (as it seems) he did not know any means of collecting those rays, which proceed in parallel from different points into so many other points, and for that reason he could not determine that angle mathematically.

Perhaps he kept silent so as not to ever prefer the circle to the other figures he [35] introduced. For it is certain that in this [IV/195b] respect the circle is superior to all the other figures one can discover. Because the circle is the same everywhere, it has the same properties everywhere. For example, the circle ABCD has this property, that all the [15] rays parallel to the axis, AB, coming from the side of A, are refracted at its surface in such a way that afterward they all come together in the point B. Similarly, all the rays parallel to the axis CD, coming from the side of C, are so refracted on its surface that they all meet in the point D.⁷³ This [20] cannot be said of any other figure although hyperbolas and ellipses have infinite diameters.

So the situation is as you write. If we attended only to the length of the eye or of the Telescope, we would be forced to make very long [25] Telescopes before we could see things on the moon as distinctly as we do those on earth. But as I said, the chief thing is the size of the angle which rays proceeding from different points make on the surface of the [30] eye when they cross there. And this angle is also larger or smaller as the foci of the lenses arranged in the Telescope differ more or less. If you’d like to see a demonstration of this, I’m ready to send it to you, when you please.

Voorburg, 3 March 1667

LETTER 40 (NS)

TO THE MOST WORTHY AND WISE MR. JARIG JELLES FROM B. D. S.

[IV/196b] Dear Friend,⁷⁴

I did receive your last letter, of the 14th of this month, but various [20] obstacles have prevented me from being able to answer earlier.

Concerning the Helvetius affair,⁷⁵ I spoke about it with Mr. Vossius,⁷⁶ who—not to relate in a letter everything we talked about—laughed heartily [25] and was surprised that I would ask him about these trifles. However, not thinking this of any importance, I went to the Silversmith,⁷⁷ a man named Brechtelt, who had tested the gold. He took quite a different view than Vossius had, saying that in the smelting and the separation the gold had increased and become heavier by an amount equal to [30] the weight of the silver he had put into the crucible for separation. So [IV/197b] he firmly believed that the gold which transmuted his silver into gold had something special in it. And he was not the only one to think this: various other Gentlemen present at the time agreed.

[20] After this I went to Helvetius himself, who showed me the gold and the crucible, coated with gold on the inside, and told me that he had thrown into the molten lead hardly a fourth of a grain of barley or mustard seed. He added that he would soon publish an account of [25] the whole business, and said further that someone—he thought it was the same man who had been with him—had done the same thing in Amsterdam. Doubtless you will have heard about this. This is all I have been able to learn about this matter.

[30] The author of that little book you write about—in which he boasts that he has demonstrated the falsity of the arguments Descartes offers in the third and fifth⁷⁸ Meditations, by which he demonstrates the existence of God—will certainly fight with his own shadow, and harm [35] himself more than others. Descartes’ axiom, I confess, is somewhat [IV/198b] obscure and confused, as you too have noted; he would have spoken more clearly and truly if he had said: that the power of thinking to think about things, or to conceive them, is not greater than the power of nature [20] for existing and producing effects. This is a clear and true axiom, from which God’s existence follows very clearly and validly. This Author’s argument, which you recount, shows clearly enough that he doesn’t yet understand the matter. It is indeed true that we can proceed to [25] infinity if the problem is solved in this way in all its parts. Otherwise it is great foolishness.

Suppose, for example, someone asks by what cause a limited body of this kind moves? We can reply that it has been determined to such motion by another body, and this again by another, and so on to infinity. [30] We are free to give this reply, I say, because it is a question only about motion, and by continually supposing another body, we give a sufficient and eternal cause of that motion. But if I see in the hands of an ordinary person an elegantly written book, full of excellent thoughts, [IV/199b] and I ask him where he got such a book, and he replies that he copied [35] it from another book of another ordinary person, who also could write elegantly, and he proceeds in this way to infinity, he will not [20] satisfy me. For I wasn’t asking only about the shape and order of the letters (which was all he was replying about). I was also asking about the thoughts and the meaning their composition indicates. He does not give me any answer to that question by proceeding in this way to infinity. How this can be applied to ideas can easily be seen from what [25] I have explained in the ninth axiom of my geometric demonstration of Descartes’ Principles of Philosophy.⁷⁹

I proceed now to reply to your other letter, dated 9 March, in which you ask for a further explanation of what I had written in my preceding [30] letter [Letter 39] about a circular shape. You will easily be able to grasp this, provided you notice, please, that all the rays which are assumed to be parallel when they strike the first lens of the Telescope are not really parallel, because they all come from one and the same [35] point. But we treat them as parallel because the object is so far from [IV/200b] us that the opening of the Telescope is to be regarded as only like a point in relation to the distance.

Further, it is certain that to see a whole object we need, not only the rays from one single point, but also all the other cones of rays [15] proceeding from all the other points. And for that reason it is also necessary that they come together in so many other foci when they pass through the lens. And although the eye itself is not so precisely constructed that all the rays coming from the different points of the object meet in exactly as many other points in the back [20] of the eye, nevertheless, it is certain that those shapes which can produce this result are to be preferred to all others. But since a limited segment of a circle can have the effect that (mechanically speaking) it brings together all the rays proceeding from one point into another [25] point on its diameter, it will also bring together all the others which come from the other points on the object into as many other points. For a line can be drawn from any point on the object which passes through the center of the circle, although for this purpose the opening of the Telescope must be made much smaller than it would [30] be otherwise, if only one focus were needed, as you will easily be able to see.

What I say here about a Circle cannot be said about an Ellipse, or a Hyperbola, much less other more composite shapes, because one can only draw one line which [35] passes through each focus from a single point on the [IV/201b] object. This is what I wanted to say about this matter in my first letter.

You will be able to see from the adjacent figure the demonstration that the angle which the rays coming from different [30] points make on the surface of the eye becomes greater or less as the foci differ more or less. So after sending you a very friendly greeting, nothing remains but to say that I am, etc.

B. d. S.

Voorburg, 25 March 1667

LETTER 41(NS)

TO THE MOST WORTHY AND WISE MR. JARIG JELLES FROM B. D. S.

Sir,⁸⁰

[IV/202b] I shall relate briefly here what I discovered by experiment concerning the matter you asked me about, first in person, and then in a letter. To that I’ll add what I now think about the subject. I had a wooden tube made for me, 10 ft. long, with a cavity 1 2/3 [15] in. wide, to which I attached three perpendicular tubes, as shown in the figure below.

To test first whether the pressure of the water around tube B was as great as that around E, I plugged tube M around A with a [20] small piece of wood, prepared for that purpose. Next, I made the mouth of B so narrow that it would take a little glass tube like C. Then, after I had filled the tube with water from the Container F, I observed to what height it would rise through the little tube C. Next I stopped up tube B, and removing the piece of wood at [25] A, permitted the water to flow into tube E, which I had prepared in the same way as B. After I had filled the whole tube again with water, I discovered that it rose to the same height through D as it had through C. This persuaded me that the length of the tube is no hindrance, or a very small one.

[IV/203b] But to test this more accurately, I tried whether tube E could also fill a cubic foot container prepared for this as quickly as B could. To measure the time, because I did not have a pendulum clock available, I used a glass tube, bent back on itself, like H, the shorter part of which [15] was immersed in the water, and the longer part of which was hanging freely in the air.

With these preparations, I let the water flow first through tube B in a stream as thick as the tube until the cubic foot container was full. Then with an accurate scale I weighed how much water had flowed into the dish, L, during this time, [20] and found its weight to be four ounces. Next I stopped up tube B, and let the water flow in a stream equal to it through tube E into the cubic foot container. [IV/204b] When this was full, as before I weighed the water which had flowed into the dish during this time, and found the weight of the former to exceed that of the latter by not even a half ounce. But since the streams both from B and from E had not flowed [30] continuously with the same force, I repeated the operation and first brought as much water as we had learned from the experience of the first trial would be necessary to have available.

There were three of us, each as busy as we could be, and we carried out the operation described more [35] accurately than before, though not as accurately as I had indeed wanted. [IV/205b] Nevertheless, this gave me enough evidence to draw some conclusion [15] about this matter, since I found almost the same difference the second time as the first.

Having weighed the matter, and these experiments, carefully, I am compelled to conclude that the difference the length of the tube can make is relevant only at the beginning—that is, when the water is [20] beginning to flow—but when the water has flowed for a short time, it will flow with as much force through a very long tube as it does through a short one. The reason for this is that the pressure of the [IV/206b] higher water always retains the same force and that all the motion the water communicates it continuously regains, through the weight. And therefore it will continuously communicate this motion to the [20] water in the tube until the latter, being pushed on, acquires as much speed as the higher water can give it gravitational force.

For it’s certain that if in the first moment the water in tube G confers on the water in tube M one degree of speed, in the second moment, if it retains its earlier force, as is supposed, it will communicate [25] four degrees of speed to the same water, and so, in turn, until the water in the longer tube, M, has received exactly as much force as the gravitational force of the higher water contained in tube G can give it.

[30] So, simply from the pressure of the higher water, water running through a tube 40,000 ft. long will, after a short time has passed, acquire as much speed as it would have acquired if the tube, M, had been only a foot long. If I could have acquired more precise instruments, I would have been able to determine the time the water in the longer tube requires to achieve such a great speed. Nevertheless, I don’t think that’s [35] necessary, since the main point has been determined sufficiently, etc.

B. d. S.

Voorburg, 5 September

1. This letter is not known except for this reference, but evidently it gave Oldenburg some information about the projected Theological-Political Treatise.

2. I.e., Boyle 1664.

3. Athanasius Kircher’s Mundus subterraneus (1665) was a treatise on forces and processes within the earth. A German Jesuit, Kircher fled Germany in 1631 to escape the Thirty Years War, and eventually settled in Rome, where he conducted an extensive correspondence about scientific and cultural matters, both within Europe and with Jesuit missionaries around the world. His scientific curiosity ranged over many disciplines, and he was boldly experimental in his methods. Once he had himself lowered into the crater of Vesuvius to observe its features after an eruption.

4. In the spring and summer of 1665 there was an outbreak of bubonic plague in London, which may have killed as many as one hundred thousand people, or about one-fifth of the population. Defoe’s Journal of the Plague Year is a vivid, if fictionalized, account.

5. The Second Anglo-Dutch War, which lasted from 1664 to 1667. As in the First Anglo-Dutch War (1652–1654), the main cause was rivalry over trade. For further details see Israel 1995, 766–76.

6. The Royal Society, whose origins Oldenburg had described to Spinoza in Letter 7, Volume I, p. 189.

7. See Boyle 1666. Available in Early English Books Online. For a good modern edition, with a helpful introduction, see Stewart 1991.

8. In the TTP as it has come down to us, there are a few scattered comments on angels (most significantly in i, 19–20; ii, 44; and iv, 31), but no extended discussion comparable to the chapters on prophecy and miracles. It appears from Lucas’s biography that this was a topic the young men from the synagogue wanted to question Spinoza about, when they visited him shortly before the excommunication. See Lucas 1927, 44ff. There may have been some discussion of angels in the lost defense Spinoza wrote after the excommunication, defending his departure from the synagogue. For speculations about the probable contents of that defense, see Curley 2015a. The early accounts claim that Spinoza included some parts of his defense in the TTP. Oldenburg’s reference to angels may be an indication that at this stage Spinoza's draft of the TTP included material on angels which was omitted from the final version.

9. As Akkerman notes, these last two lines quote Tacitus almost exactly. Cf. his Histories IV, lxxiv.

10. Johannes Hevelius (1611–1687) was a member of a noble family in Gdansk, who studied at the University of Leiden. When he returned home, he built an observatory on top of his house, and equipped it with instruments of his own making. He is best known now for his Selenographia (1647), an atlas of the moon, and for a catalog of the stars which was the most comprehensive of its time (published posthumously in 1690).

11. On these comets, see Boschiero 2008.

12. Apparently Oldenburg was misinformed about Spinoza’s address. Van de Ven Facts, ch. 7, notes that Spinoza never rented rooms in the Bagijnestraat in The Hague. At this time he lodged in the house of the painter Daniel Tydeman, in the Kerklaan in Voorburg. But Tydeman may also have been the owner of the house “Adam and Eve” in The Hague.

13. This letter is not dated, but its approximate date can be inferred from the date of the lost letter to which it replies and from the known date of Letter 31.

14. The first fragment of this letter is not in Gebhardt’s edition, but will be treated for indexing purposes as if it appeared on IV/166. It was first discovered and published by Wolf in 1935 (see Wolf 1935).

15. For a helpful account of Huygens’ work on pendulums, see Mahoney 1980 or Bos’s introduction to Blackwell 1986, an English translation of Huygens’ Horologium Oscillatorium (Pendulum Clock).

16. During this period the French comptroller-general, Colbert, was attempting to attract eminent scholars and scientists to Paris. The French Academy of Sciences granted Huygens a large pension and an apartment in its building.

17. Spinoza’s intuitions in this matter seem to have been vindicated by the fact that Huygens eventually gave up this project when he learned of Newton’s discoveries concerning chromatic aberration. See Oldenburg 1665, II, 524, n. 4.

18. Indeed, Huygens never did publish his projected treatise on the laws of motion, although “all Huygens’ theorems on impact were correct (for perfectly elastic bodies)” and only Descartes’ first “law of motion” was correct. See Oldenburg 1665, II, 542, nn. 5, 6.

19. In Letter 33 (IV/176/12–22) Oldenburg will return to the topic of Huygens’ experiments, confirming that they went as Huygens had claimed.

20. Cf. Descartes, Principles of Philosophy II, 51. Cf. Boyle’s comment on this sentence in his letter to Oldenburg of 14 October 1665 (Oldenburg 1665, II, 569).

21. I.e., the republic of philosophers. Cf. Letter 31, IV/167/24.

22. In antiquity Democritus acquired a reputation for laughing at the follies of mankind, as Heraclitus did of weeping over them. Cf. Horace, Epistles 2.1.194. Since little of his work has survived, it is difficult to judge the justice of this reputation.

23. Note that Spinoza characterizes the TTP as a work stating his “opinion about scripture.” He does not say explicitly that the work will also contain a political theory. The first two aims of the work are purely theological (in a broad sense of that term). In its final form the work does advance a political theory which supports the third goal, to defend freedom of philosophizing. But it also defends that freedom by the separation it proposes between philosophy and theology in Chs. xiv–xv. So it seems possible that at this point Spinoza did not contemplate developing the political theory we find in the last five chapters of the TTP which has come down to us.

24. On Spinoza’s reputation for atheism at this time, see Nadler 1999, 203 (and the Editorial Preface to the TTP, pp. 47–49, and the Glossary-Index entry ATHEISM, pp. 615–17).

25. Contrast this with Spinoza's praise of Dutch liberty in TTP Pref., 12.

26. Descartes attempts to explain the origin and motions of comets in his Principles of Philosophy III, 118–39. He believed that the universe was a plenum, with the matter distributed in vortices, made up initially of particles of varying sizes and shapes. Over time he thought the particles would tend to become spherical. The finest particles would tend to settle at the centers of their vortices and form stars; the others would tend to recede from the centers and to revolve around them. Eventually the matter revolving around a star might be taken into other vortices, leaving nothing but the star, which might then begin to pass from one vortex to another. Hevelius’s letter to Oldenburg, dated 22 May (1 June N.S.) 1665, but apparently not received until August of that year, may be found in Oldenburg 1965, II, 392–99.

27. This letter is undated, but as with Letter 29, its approximate date can be inferred from Letter 29 (written as a response to a letter dated 4 September) and from Letter 31 (dated 12 October and written as a response to this letter).

28. This seems likely to have been the copy of Adam Boreel’s Jesus Nazarenus Legislator, a defense of Christianity, which Oldenburg had arranged for Peter Serrarius to make for him and Boyle when he learned that Boreel was near death. See Van de Ven Facts, ch. 7, and Oldenburg 1965, II, 404–5, 408, 534. On Boreel, see Iliffe 1996.

29. Cf. Meyer’s preface to Descartes’ “Principles of Philosophy,” I/132, Vol. I, p. 230.

30. Spinoza will not, of course, deny either God’s existence or his providence. But it’s doubtful that Oldenburg would have been satisfied by the account of divine providence he develops in the TTP. See particularly TTP vi, 39–51 (III/88–91). Spinoza’s God is not providential in the sense of being a personal agent, who exercises a prudent concern for his creatures (cf. KV I, v, I/40).

31. On Hevelius, see the notes to Letter 29. Adrien Auzout was a member of the Paris Academy. They had disagreed about the location of the comet in the constellation Aries. The Royal Society considered the matter and in 1666 decided in favor of Auzout. “Of the Judgment of Some of the English Astronomers, Touching the Differences between Two Learned Men, about an Observation Made of the First of the Two Late Comets” (Philosophical Transactions, 1665, pp. 150–51).

32. The English had sought to persuade Sweden to send an army to aid them in their war against the Dutch, and the Swedish army did indeed take “a considerable town from the Dutch” (10 November 1665, Calendar of State Papers, as cited in Van de Ven Facts, ch. 7). The Bishop of Munster did invade Holland in 1665.

33. It appears from this that Oldenburg had millenarian inclinations, which led him to think that the end of the world might be near. Cf. Letter 33, IV/178/24ff.

34. Charles II had left London to escape the plague.

35. OP: fingamus. A: concipiamus, let us conceive. But when fingamus occurs below in the OP (at l.18), A also reads: fingamus.

36. A: than those which can follow from the nature of the blood alone, i.e., from the relation of the motion of the lymph, chyle, etc., to one another.

37. A: by which the whole nature of the blood is regulated in a definite way.

38. The bracketed phrase, not present in A, is added in the OP.

39. For the bracketed phrase A has: the variations of its parts which can follow from this infinite power must be infinite.

40. A: For since it is of the nature of substance to be infinite (as I tried to demonstrate previously, when I was still living in Rijnsburg), it follows from this that each part of the whole corporeal substance pertains to the whole substance, and can neither be nor be conceived without the rest of the substance.

41. A: a part of the universe.

42. A: a part of the universe.

43. Cf. Letter 30, fragment 1.

44. Wolf 1966 (p. 423) contends that if Spinoza had tried to learn more about what Huygens was doing in this area, he probably would not have been able to, since Huygens was interested more in finding out what Spinoza was doing than in sharing the results of his own work. Cf. Huygens’ letters to Constantijn, his brother, in Huygens 1888–1950, VI, 151, 168, 215. Huygens mentions Spinoza several times in his correspondence, usually referring to him as “the Jew of Voorburg” or “our Israelite.” Sometimes he expresses admiration for Spinoza’s skill as a lensgrinder (VI, 155, 158) and sometimes criticism of his theories (VI, 148, 164, 205). Wolf (1966) gives a clear account of the device Huygens constructed.

45. In Aesop’s fable of the fox and the goat, the fox fell into a well and lured the goat in with him by telling her he expected a drought. When the goat joined him in the well, he used her body as a ladder on which to climb out.

46. AHW report that at this time people still thought comets moved in a straight line. So there was often doubt whether two comet phenomena perceived in close succession were caused by the same comet.

47. Oldenburg 1965, II, 637, suggests that this was probably Christopher Wren, who in addition to being an architect of note, was also a scientist and a founder of the Royal Society. Cf. Oldenburg 1965, II, 624.

48. These observations were reported in the Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society, no. 6 (6 November 1665), but Wolf thinks the anatomists (Josiah Clark and Richard Lower) must have been mistaken in what they reported. See Wolf 1966, 427–28.

49. This observation was also reported in the Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society, no. 6. According to Wolf, the “milk” was a whitish or gray plasma which is usually mixed with the blood, but rises to the top when blood is left to sit. AHW suggest that this might be explained by a higher than usual protein content in the blood.

50. This hope had been aroused by Sabbatai Zevi (1626–1676), a Jew living in the Ottoman Empire who proclaimed himself the Messiah. Despite rabbinic opposition he was able to attract financial backing and a wide following. In 1665 one of his followers, Nathan of Gaza, who claimed to be the risen Elijah, and the precursor of the Messiah, prophesied that in the following year Israel (then part of the Ottoman Empire) would be restored to the Jews and the Messianic era would begin. This fit widespread expectations of both Jewish and Christian millenarians. There was, in fact, considerable enthusiasm for Zevi in Amsterdam. On this see Nadler 1999, 249–54. Early in 1666 Zevi was imprisoned in Constantinople, where, under pressure, he converted to Islam. His apostasy cost him much of his following, though some found ways to justify it and the movement continued for many years after his death. The classic study is Scholem 1974. Although our record of correspondence between Oldenburg and Spinoza is about to be interrupted for nearly ten years—which may explain why we do not have a letter in which Spinoza replies to Oldenburg’s questions about Zevi—what he might have said may perhaps be inferred from two passages in the TTP, i, 7 (III/16); iii, 55 (III/57).

51. Christian millenarians hoped for the return of the Jews to Israel in 1666, as a sign of the Second Coming.

52. OP, Gebhardt: induturus. NS: zal meebrengen. AHW read: inducturus, which is what I translate.

53. The argument which follows closely parallels the argument Spinoza gives in E I P8S2, with the interesting exception that this argument leads to the conclusion that there cannot be a plurality of Gods, whereas the argument in E I P8S2 leads to the conclusion that there cannot be a plurality of substances of the same nature.

54. OP: hypothesin. NS: onderstelling. Similarly for the other occurrences of hypothesis in the Latin versions of this correspondence. See the Glossary entry HYPOTHESIS.

55. OP: hypothesi. NS: onderstelling.

56. OP: determinatum. NS: bepaalt. By translating these terms as I have, here and elsewhere in this letter, I’ve tried to respect the fact that the text does not say finitum or eindig. But I think both terms here mean finite.

57. OP: indeterminatum. NS: oneindig.

58. OP: in suo genere solummodo indeterminatum. NS: slechs in zijn geslacht oneindig.

59. The OP has essentia, essence. But the NS has wezen in the text and esse in the margin. I'm inclined to think that it is best to translate this as “being.”

60. The ratio of the sine of the angle of incidence to the sine of the angle of refraction when light passes from one medium to another. That this ratio was constant for any two media was one of Descartes’ principal discoveries in optics. (The Dutch mathematician Willebrord Snell had made the same discovery some years before Descartes, but this was not known until Christiaan Huygens published his Treatise on Light in 1690.)

61. Once thought lost, this work was rediscovered and published in Vermij and Atzema 1995. For a brief but helpful discussion, see Dijksterhuis 2004, 70–72.

62. I’ve modernized the symbols which Spinoza uses to express this equation. He uses a now obsolete symbol for equality, and doubles a variable to indicate that it is squared.

63. I.e. (acc. to Appuhn), which is the greatest length z can attain. Appuhn takes x to refer to the line BF, but contends that Spinoza makes a mistake in supposing that x here might be taken to = 0. Appuhn takes Spinoza to be right, however, in concluding that the spherical aberration of a plane-convex lens is less than that for a convex-concave lens.

64. In the OP and NS Bouwmeester is identified only by his initials. In C: B. de Spinoza greets one of his many friends, Mr. N.N.

65. C: Dearest and honored friend.

66. This initial paragraph is not in C.

67. The phrase “outside us” (extra nos) is not in C.

68. OP: ejusque naturae & legume. C: ejusque Naturae legum, of the laws of its Nature. In AHW, 479, Akkerman comments that the difference in phrasing does not indicate a difference in meaning: “Trying to indicate the ‘being’ or ‘essence’ of things as exactly as possible in words, Spinoza continually uses different formulations . . . e.g., to express in words the ‘being’ of blood, he uses . . . : (1) natura sanguinis, (2) leges sanguinis, (3) leges sive natura sanguinis, (4) leges naturae sanguinis, (5) leges et natura sanguinis, (6) natura sive definitio sanguinis, (7) essentia aut natura sanguinis.”

69. C adds the following at the end: “Farewell, and love him who loves you from his heart, Bened. de Spinoza.”

70. NS: kans. OP: sortem seu exspectationem. I adopt “expectation” as my translation of kans wherever it seems clear to me that Spinoza is thinking about a quantity which is a function both of the probability of winning and of the amount of money staked. I use “chance” where it seems to me that he is thinking just about a probability. Spinoza doesn’t seem to be consistent in his terminology for dealing with these problems. Normally he uses kans when he’s speaking about a function of probability and utility, and lot when he’s just talking about a probability. In IV/191/14, however, kans seems to be used for a simple probability. Modern probability theory was in its infancy in this period, the first important work on mathematical expectation having been done by Huygens in Calculating in Games of Chance (1657). For discussion, see Hacking 1975, ch. 11. As Hacking points out (personal correspondence): “Because of the Dutch practice of raising money by selling annuities, probability calculations were of immense practical interest to the state and its statesmen, and involved anyone interested in politics, with the de Witts, among others, being actively engaged. Questions about gaming were not just topics for gentlemen’s amusements.”

71. NS: Waarde Vriend. The OP salutation is more formal: Humanissime Vir, Most Worthy Sir.

72. At issue in this letter is the Eighth Discourse in Descartes’ Dioptric. Descartes held that hyperbolic and elliptical lenses were preferable to any others we might conceive of.

73. In the OP this sentence is made the consequent of a condition which has the preceding sentence as its antecedent: “If the circle ABCD has this property, that all the rays parallel to the axis, AB, coming from the side of A, are refracted at its surface in such a way that afterward they all come together in point B, all the rays parallel to the axis CD, coming from side C, etc.”

74. NS: Waarde Vriend. OP: Humanissime Vir.

75. Johannes Fridericus Helvetius, physician to the Prince of Orange, published an account of his alchemical experiments in Amsterdam in 1667. Later he wrote against both Descartes and Spinoza (Philosophica theologica contra Cartesii et Spinosae theologiam philosophicam, 1680).

76. Isaac Vossius (1618–1689), Dutch humanist now best known as a collector of books and manuscripts, who became court librarian for Queen Christina in 1648. In his own day he was also renowned for his knowledge of ancient and modern languages and for his controversial biblical scholarship (De septuaginta interpretibus, 1661), which argued that the Septuagint was divinely inspired throughout and more reliable than the ancient Hebrew text of the Bible. He left Sweden after Christina’s abdication in 1654, returned to Holland for some years, and eventually went to England in 1670, where he received a degree in civil law and became a canon at Windsor in 1673, a post he held until shortly before his death. He is reported to have refused the sacrament on his deathbed, until reminded that this would reflect unfavorably on the canons of Windsor. For more, see Katz 1993.

77. NS: Silversmit. OP: aurificem, goldsmith. Note that, unlike Vossius, Spinoza does not dismiss Helvetius’ claims out of hand. Some have thought that this showed credulity on his part. It is worth pointing out, then, that Boyle, Huygens, and Newton all took seriously the possibility of transforming baser metals into gold. See Klever 1987.

78. Thus the NS. The OP has (incorrectly): quarta, fourth.

79. Cf. I/156–57, Collected Works, Vol. I, pp. 244–45.

80. NS: Myn Heer, Sir. OP: Humanissime Vir, Most Worthy Sir. Given the relationship between Spinoza and Jelles, and the salutations of the preceding two letters, it seems likely that the actual salutation was the more cordial Waarde Vrient, which I've been translating “Dear Friend.”

A Critique of Theology and Politics

EDITORIAL PREFACE

FROM LETTER 29 we learned that by September 1665 Spinoza had begun writing a version of the Theological-Political Treatise (TTP). From Letter 30 we learned what his main objectives in this work were: to expose and refute the prejudices of the theologians, to rebut the charge that he was an atheist, and to defend the freedom to philosophize and say what we think, which he accused the preachers of trying to suppress as much as they could. We may begin by considering some of the theological prejudices to be exposed.

SUPERSTITION

Spinoza’s Preface to the TTP offers an account of the causes and effects of superstition. We are all at the mercy of fortune. However carefully we try to plan our affairs, events we could not anticipate, and cannot control, may obstruct and frustrate those plans. An unexpected illness takes someone we love from us; a hurricane destroys our town; a surprise attack on one of our cities kills thousands, costs millions, and puts fear in our hearts. Recognizing the limitations of our power, and vacillating between hope and fear, we readily accept propositions we would like to believe, which seem to promise some control over our futures, even though those beliefs might not survive critical scrutiny.¹

The ancient Greeks and Romans believed they could read the future in the entrails of animals, and might overcome obstacles to their plans if they performed the right rituals. Perhaps they would get a fair wind to sail for Troy if they appeased an angry goddess by sacrificing a beloved daughter. Spinoza begins with examples of pagan superstition, whose irrationality his Christian contemporaries would readily concede. But soon he slides into a critique of his own time. “The multitude are still at the mercy of pagan superstition” (Preface, §13). The ancient pagans believed in invisible powers, personal beings who were supposed to have the ability to protect them from harm, and who might have the will to help them, if approached in the right way. The modern multitude have substituted a belief in one God for the ancient belief in many, and belief in a sacred text for belief in divination. But the logic of the beliefs is the same: it is the result, not of reason, but of the passions of hope and fear, and the desire to control the future.

ANTICLERICALISM

It’s unfortunate to guide your life by irrational beliefs. But it’s doubly unfortunate when those beliefs put believers in the power of men who claim special knowledge of God’s will and of how to please him. They may have no scruples about using the power this gives them. They may give their blessing to the leaders of civil society, or withhold it, as suits their purposes. They may also have no scruples about trying to preserve their power by repressing criticism which might threaten its basis. In western Europe and the Americas, such clerics have often been the chief enemies of freedom of thought and expression, and a threat to progress in philosophy and science.

One of the most crucial prejudices attacked in the TTP is the idea that religion consists of mysteries we cannot grasp, but which we must accept on the authority of the leaders who propagate them, appealing to sacred texts whose interpretation they claim privileged access to. They substitute for the natural light of reason the idea of a supernatural light, revelation, as our proper guide in life.² Allied with this prejudice is a dubious principle of scriptural interpretation. Because scripture is supposed to be the word of God, some allege that it must be everywhere true and divine. So if we find in it passages which seem false or inconsistent, we must assume that we don’t understand them, and seek an interpretation which makes them not only consistent, but true (§19).

THE INTERPRETATION OF SCRIPTURE

This is a mistake. The correct procedure, Spinoza argues, is that we must approach the text of scripture using the same philological methods we would use in trying to interpret any other ancient text. Only when we have determined its meaning in that way can we reasonably make a judgment about its truth or divinity. By “philological methods” I mean what Spinoza calls a “history” of the text. This history requires that we determine the languages in which the texts were originally written, have a thorough knowledge of those languages, and understand how the texts were composed and preserved: who wrote them, when, for what audience, for what purpose; and who preserved them, what different manuscript traditions there are, whether the manuscripts have been corrupted, and who decided they were sacred (vii, 14–37). These determinations must be made, as far as possible, from internal indications in the text itself, not from tradition. Spinoza is convinced—and argues forcefully—that tradition is an unreliable source of information on such matters. That is one important implication of the slogan that we must seek our knowledge of scripture only from scripture itself.

If we follow this method, Spinoza thinks we’ll conclude: first, that in many cases we have no idea what scripture means; even the most learned theologians don’t know enough about the history of the text to understand it; second, that the Old Testament³ is not reliable as history, because the historical portions of that text were constructed many centuries after the events they claim to describe, by an editor trying to make sense of conflicting traditions, which have survived only in his amalgam; and finally, that when scripture speaks about speculative matters, such as the nature of God, it is no more reliable than it is when it talks about history. When the prophets speak about God in scripture, they often speak falsely, by the lights of more recent theology, sometimes because they’re accommodating their message to the intellectual limitations of their audience, sometimes because they themselves have an inadequate conception of God. What we can understand, without fear of error, is the basic moral message of Scripture: we must love God and our neighbors, and do what clearly follows from its fundamental prescriptions. We must defend justice; we must aid the poor; we must kill no one; we must not covet what others have (xii, 37).

ATHEISM

If Scripture is to be valued primarily for its moral teachings, not as history, and not as providing an adequate conception of God, it’s hardly surprising that Spinoza had to defend himself against the charge of atheism.⁴ “Atheist” in this period was often a general term applied, not just to those who deny the existence of God (or of any other divine beings), but to anyone who did not accept the basic propositions on which Christians and Jews agreed. In his essay on atheism, for example, Bacon called the Epicureans “the school . . . most accused of atheism,” not because they denied the existence of gods, which they didn’t, but because they denied that the gods played any causal role either in creating the world or in determining what happens in it.

Spinoza doesn’t deny the existence of God. He affirms it. But he claims that we know God’s existence best from the immutable order of nature (vi, 7–38). And he identifies God’s guidance (his activity in the world) with that order (iii, 7–8), that is, with “the universal laws of nature, according to which all things happen and are determined.” In claiming that the order of nature is immutable, Spinoza rejects the normal Jewish and Christian view of God as a personal agent, who makes choices motivated by his knowledge and goodness, and whose creatures can influence his choices through actions of their own, such as the performance of rituals, or the intercession of saints, or obedience to God’s commands, or accepting Jesus as their savior. Such views presuppose that God’s actions can change, depending on what his creatures do. Whatever means of influence believers might have thought feasible, to accept the idea that God’s activity in nature is nothing but the operation of immutable laws is to give up all hope of influencing his actions.

The distance between Spinoza’s conception of God and common Jewish and Christian conceptions of God makes it understandable that his contemporaries called him an atheist. But unlike many branded with that label, Spinoza does think there is good in both these religions: he thinks the basic moral teachings enumerated above are clearly taught in scripture, and are salutary. If we wish to be blessed, to achieve the greatest happiness humans are capable of, we must follow those teachings as best we can. We must love God and love our neighbors as ourselves (xii, 34). And we must do the things which clearly follow from these basic requirements: practice justice, aid the poor, and so on. But when scripture teaches one thing in one place and something very different in others—for example, that if someone injures us, we must inflict a similar injury on the offender (as in Exodus 21:23–25; Leviticus 24:19–20; Deuteronomy 19:21), and that if someone injures us, we must not retaliate, but turn the other cheek (as in Matthew 5:38–41)—we must use our discretion, and consider what differences in historical circumstances might explain the conflicting prescriptions (vii, 29–33).

Spinoza has a conception of God very different from the one readers are likely to arrive at by reading the scriptures. He believes, as Jews and Christians generally do, that there is a God who is the immutable first cause of the universe, whose existence explains everything in the universe, but does not itself require explanation. But he not only rejects the anthropomorphisms common in Scripture—its tendency to speak of God as having a body, or a spatial location subject to change, or emotions we regard as defects in humans, like jealousy and anger—he also rejects its tendency to speak of God as having emotions we generally approve, like a love for his creatures, and its tendency to speak of God as not knowing things you might think the creator of the universe would have to know (ii, 24–48). In addition, he denies that God performs miracles. Or at least, he denies that miracles occur in the sense the term “miracle” would normally have.⁵ I believe it is wrong to classify Spinoza as an atheist, if that term is taken to imply the rejection of all belief in God and all religion generally. But to regard him as a kind of theist is to stretch the boundaries of theism. There is no easy way to label his religious position.⁶

THE EXCOMMUNICATION

Some nine years before he began writing the TTP, as a young man of twenty-three, Spinoza was excommunicated by the synagogue in which he had grown up. This was not a trivial matter. For one thing, it meant that he was excluded from the Jewish community in which he had been brought up, including members of his own family, and had to give up the role in the family business he had assumed when his father died. For a long time the reasons for his excommunication were rather mysterious. The surviving documents were frustratingly vague about them. But after World War II, a French scholar, I. S. Revah, discovered new documents in the files of the Inquisition, showing that there were three principal grounds: (i) Spinoza held that God only exists philosophically; (ii) he believed that the soul dies with the body; and (iii) he believed that the law of Moses is not true.⁷

Perhaps Spinoza could have held most of the views for which he was excommunicated without being expelled from the synagogue. Maimonides himself had rejected many of the anthropomorphisms Spinoza complains of, and defended a very abstract, philosophical conception of God.⁸ The immortality of the soul has long been controversial in Judaism, since the support for it in the Hebrew Bible is at best ambiguous.⁹ Conceivably the synagogue might have tolerated Spinoza’s denial of miracles.¹⁰ But Spinoza also attacks something much more central to the Jewish tradition: the idea of God as a lawgiver, who prescribes to his human creatures how they ought to behave. He argues that if you define God as the philosophical traditions of Judaism and Christianity commonly do, as a being possessing all perfections, including omnipotence, the proposition that God has given laws to his people—given them commands they have the power either to obey or to disobey—involves a contradiction.¹¹ It cannot be true. This probably would have been too much for even the most liberal seventeenth-century congregation to allow.

FREEDOM

People who have suffered from religious persecution are not always advocates of freedom of thought and expression for others. The Protestants Queen Mary persecuted in sixteenth-century England turned persecutors themselves, once they gained power. The Calvinists who persecuted Catholics in seventeenth-century Holland were descended from victims of Catholic persecutions a century earlier, when Philip II of Spain ruled their land. The leaders of the synagogue who expelled Spinoza were descended from Iberian emigrés in the sixteenth century, who sought in the Netherlands the freedom to practice openly the Judaism they could not practice in Iberia. But for Spinoza defending freedom of thought and expression for all religions was central to his writing on politics and religion.¹²

Spinoza’s theological argument for freedom tries to show that the true religion does not require having the right beliefs, but only doing the right thing. Here doing the right thing means acting according to the most basic moral teachings of the Jewish and Christian scriptures. The true religion has no specific credal requirements, and is compatible with many different beliefs about God—Jewish, Christian, Muslim . . . even the philosopher’s belief in an impersonal God—so long as the moral requirements are honored.¹³ If this perspective were accepted, it would remove the principal rationales for religious persecution. Coercing belief could no longer be justified as a way of saving the soul of the person coerced, since salvation requires none of the traditional beliefs. Repressing the expression of heterodox beliefs could no longer be justified as a way of protecting the faithful from corrupting influences which would endanger their salvation.¹⁴ There is also a political argument for freedom of thought and expression, which we will discuss later.

THE LOST DEFENSE

So far I have tried to give some notion of how Spinoza went about pursuing the ends he mentioned to Oldenburg in Letter 30. Those were not the only ends he had. Credible reports from the seventeenth century tell us that on the occasion of his excommunication Spinoza wrote (in Spanish) a defense of his departure from the synagogue.¹⁵ This defense seems not to have survived. But the same reports which tell us of its existence tell us also that some of its themes resurfaced in the TTP. So the TTP may give us some idea of its probable contents, and some ideas in the TTP may go back that early.

It’s hard to believe that Spinoza would not, in that defense, have replied to the principal charges which provided the basis for the excommunication, the charges mentioned in the reports to the Inquisition discussed above. So passages in the TTP relevant to those charges may well have originated in the lost defense. For example, one of the charges against him is said to have been that he held that God only exists philosophically—that is, as I would understand it, that God exists only in the sense that there is a first cause¹⁶ of the universe, whose actions are part of the explanation of everything that happens in the universe, but who does not have the personal characteristics the scriptures might lead you to expect him to have, and in particular, does not have the characteristic of being a lawgiver. Here the TTP helps us to understand in what sense Spinoza held the views for which he was excommunicated.

But there are other doctrines in the TTP, not discussed above, which also seem plausible candidates for having featured in that lost work: notably, Spinoza’s criticism of the doctrine that the Jews were God’s chosen people (in Ch. 3), his rejection of ceremonies (in Ch. 5), and his rejection of faith in historical narratives (also in Ch. 5). This is not to say that those chapters have been carried over from an earlier work without significant alteration. The intervening years may well have given him the opportunity to deepen (and perhaps moderate) his presentation of the themes he reprised.

The TTP is a complex work, with multiple agendas, one of which was probably to make the case for rejecting Judaism, as it was understood in the synagogue from which he was expelled. This is not to say that Spinoza rejected Judaism in its entirety. He thinks there is a core ethical teaching in Judaism (which it shares with Christianity and other religions) which is both true and salutary. He does not reject Judaism when its teachings are construed as being limited to that common core.

A CAUTION

There is a major interpretive issue which faces readers of the TTP, an issue we need to address before we go any further. To what extent can we take Spinoza to be speaking candidly in this work? Scholars are divided about this. In Persecution and the Art of Writing (Strauss 1988) Leo Strauss argued that Spinoza was writing at a time when he ran the risk of persecution if he ventured too far from orthodoxy; so he had to deploy the art of “writing between the lines,” that is, writing in such a way that readers would have to read between the lines to fully understand what he was saying. The reader might find Spinoza saying things apparently quite orthodox, which he nevertheless doesn’t believe, but expects his most astute readers to recognize that he doesn’t believe. Indeed, he expects those readers to realize that the orthodox things he says are false.

Many contemporary Spinoza scholars—probably most of them—reject Strauss’s position. They find his arguments weak and think that encouraging people to read between the lines of Spinoza’s works gives them too much license to attribute to Spinoza doctrines he did not hold. I have a good deal of sympathy with that reaction. I think Strauss often argued badly for his views, and made oracular pronouncements which a more self-critical author would not have made. But I do think he was right about the fundamental point he was trying to make.¹⁷ Spinoza can be, and was perceived by his more orthodox contemporaries as being, remarkably outspoken in his criticism of orthodox theology.¹⁸ Some found him intolerably outspoken and wanted his books banned. But Spinoza’s willingness to go as far as he did should not lull us into thinking that he did not sometimes have to make nice judgments about just how far it was safe to go.¹⁹ Not only does Spinoza not always write what he thinks, he also does not always think what he writes.²⁰ Sometimes he tries to raise questions without being provably culpable of having done so. Here’s an important illustration of this.

The correspondence provides conclusive evidence that sometimes Spinoza “pulls his punches,” that is, expresses his criticism of orthodox views in ways which do not go as far as he would be prepared to go in a less public forum. In TTP i, he writes of Jesus—whom he always calls “Christ”—that

God’s Wisdom, that is, a Wisdom surpassing human wisdom, assumed a human nature in Christ, and that Christ was the way to salvation. (III/21/10–12, i, 23)

That’s quite a remarkable statement, apt to encourage his readers to think that after his departure from Judaism Spinoza became a Christian. Some readers have apparently thought that. But then Spinoza cautions us not to regard this statement as saying more than it does:

I must warn here that I’m not speaking in any way about the things some of the Churches maintain about Christ. Not that I deny them. For I readily confess that I don’t grasp them. (i, 24)

That’s less than candid. Oldenburg—perhaps not the most astute reader of Spinoza, but no fool—saw that there might be more going on here than meets the eye. Reporting about reactions to the TTP in England, he wrote Spinoza that some of his British readers

say you conceal your opinion concerning Jesus Christ, the Redeemer of the World and only Mediator for men, as well as your opinion concerning his Incarnation and Atonement. They ask that you reveal clearly your thinking about these three points. (Letter 71, IV/304/15–18)

Evidently it did not take Leo Strauss to teach us that a heterodox author might find it necessary to be diplomatic about how he phrased his heterodoxies. Spinoza replied:

to reveal my thinking more clearly regarding [that] point . . . I say that it is completely unnecessary for salvation to know Christ according to the flesh. We must think quite differently about that eternal son of God, i.e., God’s eternal wisdom, which has manifested itself in all things, but most in the human mind, and most of all in Christ Jesus. No one can attain blessedness without this [i.e., God’s eternal wisdom], as that which alone teaches what is true and false, good and evil. And because, as I said, this wisdom was manifested most through Jesus Christ, his disciples preached the same thing, insofar as he revealed it to them, and they showed that they could pride themselves beyond other people in that spirit of Christ. (Letter 73, IV/308a/9–309a/2)

So far, I take it, Spinoza is saying nothing which a careful reader of the TTP could not get from that work. As I would understand this passage: it is not essential for salvation to believe the gospel narratives about Jesus (including the doctrine of the resurrection, which later correspondence shows that Spinoza is particularly skeptical about). What is essential for salvation is to adhere to the fundamental moral teachings of Jesus, that is, the teachings enumerated above (p. 47). But then Spinoza goes beyond anything he had said in the TTP:

As for what certain Churches add to this—that God assumed a human nature—I warned expressly that I don’t know what they mean. Indeed, to confess the truth, they seem to me to speak no less absurdly than if someone were to say to me that a circle has assumed the nature of a square. (Letter 73, IV/309a/2–309a/6)

This is quite explicit about what church teachings he had in mind when he said what he did in i, 24. It’s the doctrine of the incarnation which is at issue. But more crucially, Spinoza now goes beyond the TTP, saying, not just that he doesn’t understand that doctrine, but that he thinks it’s self-contradictory. At a minimum Spinoza was pulling his punches in the TTP: not saying the most provocative thing he thought. But wasn’t he doing more than that? After all, in i, 24, he said that he didn’t deny the church doctrines he professed merely not to understand. But in the letter to Oldenburg he says he thinks they’re absurd. That is, in the correspondence he does deny what he had said in the TTP he did not deny.

Again, in the Preface to the TTP Spinoza says he has the rare good fortune to “live in a republic in which everyone is granted complete freedom of judgment, and is permitted to worship God according to his mentality, and in which nothing is thought to be dearer or sweeter than freedom” (Preface, §12). Now anyone who knows anything about the Dutch Republic in the seventeenth century knows that it was a remarkably free place, as European countries went in those days. But it did not grant its citizens complete freedom of thought and expression, or complete freedom of worship. Catholic worship was illegal (though this law was not rigorously enforced).²¹ Spinoza showed that he did not think he had complete freedom to say what he thought when he published the TTP anonymously, with false information on the title page about the publisher and place of publication. He showed it by his evasiveness about the relation of Jesus to God. He showed it again when he wrote to Oldenburg in Letter 30 that one reason for writing the TTP was to counter the preachers’ excessive authority and aggressiveness. So when he says that he has the good fortune to live in a country which grants him complete freedom of thought, he’s not just pulling his punches. He’s saying something not true, something he knows is not true, and something he must have realized that well-informed readers of his work would know was not true. The informed reader has been reminded: the work you are about to read was not written under conditions of perfect freedom; draw whatever inferences seem reasonable about the degree of candor you can expect.

SOCIAL CONTRACT THEORY

The political theory of the TTP belongs to a family of theories generally called “social contract theories,” whose best-known proponents are Hobbes, Locke, and Rousseau. The basic idea of such theories, which go back a long way, is that political institutions can be explained—and in suitable cases, justified—by appeal to an agreement a group of people make among themselves to set up a government which will make and enforce rules for their cooperation.

In Leviathan Hobbes provided a paradigm of such theories, arguing that, human nature being what it is, when people live without an effective government, there will be enough actual conflict, or reasonable fear of conflict, that no one, no matter what his innate physical and mental endowments, will have enough security in the possession of any good to make life tolerable. He called the condition in which people live without any effective government “the state of nature,” and argued, with pardonable hyperbole, that in this condition “the life of man [is] solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short.”²²

People create governments, on this theory, to provide themselves with the security they lack in the state of nature, and in general, to make it possible for them to enjoy the benefits of cooperation. Hobbes is eloquent about the economic benefits of cooperation. Without it there would be

no culture of the earth, no navigation, nor use of the commodities that may be imported by sea, no commodious building, no instruments of moving and removing such things as require much force, no knowledge of the face of the earth, no account of time, no arts, no letters, no society. (Leviathan xiii, 9)

But this description also suggests benefits which are not purely economic.

Spinoza would broadly agree with this. He sees the creation of a social order as having many of the purposes Hobbes mentioned. But there are themes in his thought we don’t find in Hobbes. For him the fact that civil society makes possible the cultivation of the arts and sciences means that it gives us a way, the only possible way, really, to achieving our highest good, the perfection of our nature, the knowledge and love of God.²³ If this should sound impossibly exalted, remember that Spinoza thinks we increase our knowledge of God by increasing our knowledge of natural things, that is, by increasing our understanding of the fundamental laws of the universe.

Another central theme in Spinoza’s political thought is the idea that in a well-designed civil society people live according to reason. Spinoza does not think most people are naturally inclined to do the right thing for the right reason (iv, 6). So a well-designed society will give its citizens extrinsic incentives—promises of reward and threats of punishment—to get them to do what it would be in their interest to do even without those rewards and punishments. In the best case, this will not be a matter of rulers manipulating the people they rule. The best case is a democratic society, in which

the whole society [holds] sovereignty as a body . . . so that everyone is bound to be subject to himself, and no one is bound to be subservient to his equal. . . . obedience has no place in a social order where sovereignty is in the hands of everyone and laws are enacted by common consent . . . whether the laws in such a social order are increased or diminished, the people nevertheless remains equally free, because it does not act from the authority of someone else, but by its own consent. (v, 23, 25)

The mechanism for creating such a society is an agreement by which each member of society transfers all his power to “a general assembly of men which has, as a body, the supreme right over everything in its power” (xvi, 24–26).

Formally, the power of this assembly is absolute. That is to say: Spinoza thinks, as Hobbes did, that any political order requires an ultimate decision maker, whose power is not checked by any institutional means. As far as the requirements of the theory are concerned, this decision maker could be a single individual, or an assembly made up of a small subset of the population, or the whole population. In the TTP Spinoza does not attempt to argue at length that an assembly of the whole citizenry is preferable to rule by one or a few.²⁴ (That is a task he will undertake in the Political Treatise.) What is supposed to provide the citizens of any government with protection against tyranny is that every government, no matter what its form, has de facto limits on its power. This is easiest to see in the case of a monarchy, where the person who may in theory have absolute power must nonetheless depend on the voluntary cooperation of others to know what situations in his kingdom need remedy and to enforce obedience to his demands. (See the TP vi, 5 on this point.) And there are certain things no king can effectively command his subjects to do, no matter how absolute his power may be in theory. Human nature being what it is, the sovereign cannot command his subjects to love those who have harmed them, or not to be offended by insults, or not to desire to be free of fear (xvii, 2). The sovereign who tries to exceed the de facto limits on his power may quickly find himself deprived of his de jure power (xvii, 3).

This emphasis on de facto power finds an important application in the political argument for freedom of thought and expression which Spinoza mounts in the last two chapters of the TTP. Formally, Spinoza, like Hobbes, is an Erastian, who thinks the church should be completely subordinate to the state (TTP xix). He assumes that there will be an official state church (as there was both in England and in the Dutch Republic). And he insists that only the state has the right to make laws binding on its citizens, that it has the right to determine what is taught in the churches it sponsors, to resolve disputes within the church about the interpretation of its doctrines, to appoint ministers, and to excommunicate members who fail to observe the church’s rules. Spinoza’s defense of freedom of thought and expression, unlike most modern defenses, does not involve maintaining that church and state must be separate.

What it does involve is the claim that rulers act contrary both to the interests of the state and to their own interests when they try to impose too much uniformity of belief. Spinoza is not naive about the powers of the state. He knows, from the Jewish experience in Iberia, that it is possible for the state to use its coercive powers to secure genuine belief, not merely external conformity:

When the King of Spain compelled the Jews either to accept the religion of the kingdom or to go into exile, a great many Jews accepted the religion of the priests. (iii, 54; cf. xx, 4)

No doubt many of the Jews who gave in to this coercion merely pretended to be converted. But Spinoza does not indulge in the comforting illusion that coercion is always ineffective. Many of the Jews who converted under pressure became sincere enough Catholics. (Perhaps they were not very good Jews to begin with.) What Spinoza insists on is that the social costs of attempting to impose more than a very general civil religion—of the kind advocated in xiv, 22–34—are very high. People resent being told what to believe. And the people who resent it most are precisely those people who make the most useful citizens: those who rank high in intelligence and integrity. Rulers who attempt to pressure their subjects into publicly espousing propositions they don’t believe risk generating fierce opposition and weakening their own power. The quest for conformity is necessarily violent, and requires a centralization of authority antithetical to the best form of government, democracy.

TEXTUAL ISSUES²⁵

When the TTP was published, its title page bore the date 1670, though the work may have appeared late in 1669. There were several subsequent editions in Spinoza’s lifetime, but apparently he was not much involved in these editions. Though they sometimes correct typographical errors, they do not have great importance for the establishment of the text.

The most interesting questions about the text concern the notes Spinoza began adding in the last months of his life. In a letter to Van Velthuysen in the autumn of 1675, he mentioned a plan to clarify some of the more obscure passages in the TTP with notes. By July 1676 he seems to have begun that process, although he had not carried it very far. All told, we have thirty-nine notes, from various sources, with varying claims to authenticity. If we discount sources which merely duplicate other earlier sources, there are five sources for these notes:

Klefmann: five notes, written in Spinoza’s hand, in a copy of the TTP he gave to his friend Jacob Klefmann in July 1676;

Marchand: thirty-six notes in a manuscript of Prosper Marchand (1675–1756), who made a copy of the notes a Mr. Frisch had asked him to inscribe in a copy of the TTP he had (c. 1711);

Von Murr: thirty-three notes which first appeared in 1802 in an edition of the TTP by Christoph Gottlieb von Murr (1733–1811);

Saint-Glain: thirty-one notes in the French translation of the TTP published in 1678 by Gabriel de Saint-Glain (c. 1620–1684);

KB: thirty-four notes in a Dutch translation of the notes preserved in a manuscript in the Koninklijke Bibliotheek in The Hague.

The notes in Klefmann’s copy are clearly the ones we can be most confident about. Not only are they all in Spinoza’s hand, but each of them occurs in all our other sources. It seems that at that stage Spinoza had not gotten very far in the process of adding notes. So notes which appear in later sources, but not in Klefmann, are presumably later additions to the text. The notes in Klefmann’s copy are only five of the thirty-nine. The provenance of the others is unclear, though most occur in at least four of our five sources, as will be seen from the following tabulation:

ADN I: Marchand, Von Murr, KB [III/15/10]

ADN II: Klefmann, Marchand, Von Murr, Saint-Glain, KB [III/16/7]

ADN III: Marchand, Von Murr, Saint-Glain, KB [III/27/20]

ADN IV: Marchand, Von Murr, Saint-Glain, KB [III/48/8]

ADN V: Marchand, Von Murr, Saint-Glain, KB [III/48/20]

ADN VI: Klefmann, Marchand, Von Murr, Saint-Glain, KB [III/84/24]

ADN VII: Klefmann, Marchand, Von Murr, Saint-Glain, KB [III/107/1]

ADN VIII: Marchand, Von Murr, Saint-Glain, KB [III/111/12]

ADN IX: Marchand, Von Murr, Saint-Glain, KB [III/120/1]

ADN X: Marchand, Von Murr, Saint-Glain, KB [III/122/5]

ADN XI: Marchand, Von Murr, Saint-Glain, KB [III/129/26]

ADN XII: Marchand, Von Murr, Saint-Glain, KB [III/129/32]

ADN XIII: Klefmann, Marchand, Von Murr, Saint-Glain, KB [III/130/14]

ADN XIV: Klefmann, Marchand, Von Murr, Saint-Glain, KB [III/131/9]

ADN XV: Saint-Glain, KB [III/131/28]

ADN XVI: Marchand, Von Murr, Saint-Glain, KB [III/132/12]

ADN XVII: Marchand, Von Murr, Saint-Glain, KB [III/132/28]

ADN XVIII: Marchand, Von Murr, KB [III/135/8]

ADN XIX: Marchand, Von Murr, Saint-Glain, KB [III/136/7]

ADN XX: Saint-Glain [III/136/12]

ADN XXI: Marchand, Von Murr, Saint-Glain, KB [III/141/19]

ADN XXII: Marchand, Von Murr, Saint-Glain, KB [III/143/33]

ADN XXIII: Marchand, Von Murr, Saint-Glain, KB [III/145/25]

ADN XXIV: Marchand, Von Murr, Saint-Glain, KB [III/146/17]

ADN XXV: Marchand, Von Murr, Saint-Glain, KB [III/150/2]

ADN XXVI: Marchand, Von Murr, Saint-Glain, KB [III/151/29]

ADN XXVII: Saint-Glain [III/156/9]

ADN XXVIII: Marchand [III/181/12]

ADN XXIX: Marchand [III/184/1]

ADN XXX: Marchand [III/188/20]

ADN XXXI: Marchand, Von Murr, Saint-Glain, KB [III/188/23]

ADN XXXII: Marchand, Von Murr, Saint-Glain, KB [III/192/8]

ADN XXXIII: Marchand, Von Murr, KB [III/195/4]

ADN XXXIV: Marchand, Von Murr, Saint-Glain, KB [III/198/13]

ADN XXXV: Marchand, Von Murr, KB [III/201/27]

ADN XXXVI: Marchand, Von Murr, Saint-Glain, KB [III/207/14]

ADN XXXVII: Marchand, Von Murr, Saint-Glain, KB [III/208/6]

ADN XXXVIII: Marchand, Von Murr, Saint-Glain, KB [III/210/25]

ADN XXXIX: Marchand, Von Murr, KB [III/238/26]

Most editions of the TTP place these adnotations at the end of the text. But it seems to me best to attach them to the text they annotate (as Pina Totaro did in her edition of the TTP). The tabulation above will enable readers to go from the number of the note to its location in the text, and in addition, to see what sources it comes from.

Unsurprisingly, the sources do not always give the same versions of the notes they have in common. The variations in the notes due to Saint-Glain are particularly suspect. We know from his translation of the TTP that he is prone to translate very freely, sometimes producing what is more a paraphrase than a translation, and sometimes adding material not in the text he is translating. Adnotation XX, which occurs only in Saint-Glain, is particularly problematic.²⁶

On the other hand, ALM’s judgment is that, if we discount Saint-Glain’s characteristic liberties of translation, his version is probably closer to Spinoza’s original than the Latin texts of Marchand and Von Murr, which are apparently based on copies (or copies of copies). These seem sometimes to have mistakes not present in the copy Saint-Glain was working from. ALM make the same judgment of the KB translation.

Marchand claims that he has taken his notes directly from notes written in the margins of Spinoza’s own copy, in Spinoza’s own hand. Apparently this is not true. Sometimes he incorporates material from Saint-Glain, reproducing it in French, as if to confess that he doesn’t have it from a Latin source. And Adnotations XXVIII–XXX, which occur only in Marchand, seem most unlikely to stem from Spinoza. (For argument on this, see ALM, 32–33. Preus 1995 treats these notes as being Marchand’s own, and I think he is probably right about that. As my annotation of Chapter 15 should make clear, Spinoza attributes to Alfakhar various positions which he did not hold, but which were held by seventeenth-century Calvinist theologians. The three adnotations Preus ascribes to Marchand call attention to passages in Meyer 1666 in which Meyer is responding to those Calvinists.) Also suspect is the Syriac text in Adnotation XXVI. The Syriac Bible of Tremellius which Spinoza used was written in Hebrew characters. We don’t know that Spinoza could read (or had access to) the Syriac script. So that text may come from someone else.

The comparison of Marchand’s and Von Murr’s versions of the text suggests that neither of them made their copies from Spinoza’s own copy, but that they both derive from the same copy, which had some errors in it. And between Spinoza’s copy and Marchand’s, there was probably another intervening copy which was not part of the sequence leading to Von Murr’s.

In reproducing the adnotations I mark them with two asterisks (plus “ADN.” followed by the number of the note in Roman numerals). If there is bracketed material in the note, that is my addition. Notes marked with only a single asterisk appeared in the first edition, published in 1670. Where a note stems from that first edition of the TTP, I use a second asterisk, at the end of Spinoza’s note, to mark it off from any additions I have made. So, for example, in the Preface to the TTP, §5, Spinoza quotes from Quintus Curtius’s History of Alexander the Great, and has a note which reads: “As Curtius himself says, Bk. VII, §7.” That portion of the note is enclosed in asterisks. The remainder of the note is my editorial comment on Spinoza’s note.

My editorial comments sometimes refer to a seventeenth-century Dutch translation of the TTP, De Rechtzinnige Theologant, of Godgeleerde Staatkundige Verhandelinge (The Orthodox Theologian, or Theological-Political Treatise), published in 1693 (with a title page bearing the usual false information about the publisher and place of publication). Apparently Glazemaker did this translation in the early 1670s, but suppressed it in response to a request from Spinoza, who did not want a Dutch translation of his work to appear, for fear that it would be banned if it became available in the vernacular language (see Letter 44). Spinoza’s efforts to prevent a ban were of no avail. The Latin version was banned anyway. (For details, see Israel 1996.) Anyone who thinks that Spinoza stood in no danger of persecution for this work needs to remember that in its day the TTP was a banned book.

Finally, when Spinoza quotes the Hebrew Bible, he typically gives the Hebrew text first, and then his own translation into Latin. He does not rely on any existing Latin translation. Although it hasn’t been customary to reproduce the Hebrew quotations in the English translations,²⁷ I believe it’s desirable to do so. First, it illustrates Spinoza’s commitment to an important principle of his theory of interpretation: that the interpreter must be able to deal with the original language in which the text was written, and not rely on translations. It also demonstrates Spinoza’s knowledge of oriental languages, which deeply impressed some of his contemporaries. In a letter to Graevius in May 1671, Leibniz wrote that he had read Spinoza’s book, and went on to say:

I grieve that a man of his evident learning should have fallen so far into error. Hobbes’ Leviathan has laid the foundations of the critique he carries out against the sacred books, but that critique can be shown to often be defective. These things tend to overturn the Christian Religion, which has been established by the precious blood of the martyrs and by such great labors and vigilance. If only someone could be stirred to activity who was equal to Spinoza in erudition, but [dedicated?] to the Christian cause, who might refute his frequent paralogisms and abuse of oriental letters.²⁸

Though he praised Spinoza’s erudition, Leibniz nonetheless complained that Spinoza had misused his knowledge of Hebrew and related languages. This, he thought, placed a special burden on those who would refute Spinoza. That may be one reason why he did not undertake a refutation himself.

Recognizing the consistent presence of the Hebrew text in Spinoza’s quotations from the Old Testament also throws into relief a notable absence. When he is quoting the New Testament, he does not quote the Greek text generally assumed to be original, but simply uses one of the existing Latin translations, sometimes Theodore Beza’s, done from the Greek text, but quite frequently Immanuel Tremellius’s, done from an Aramaic version of the text. He does not explain why he does this in any edition of the TTP published in his lifetime. But in Adnotation XXVI, he expresses a doubt that Greek was the original language of the New Testament, pointing out that the native language of the apostles was “Syriac,” i.e., Aramaic. About this he is partly right and partly wrong. He is undoubtedly wrong to think that the passage about which he raises this issue was not written in Greek. (The text in question is from Paul’s letter to the Romans.) But he would most probably be right to suggest that the gospel reports of the sayings of Jesus go back to an Aramaic source. There has been much debate about the language Jesus used in preaching to his Palestinian contemporaries. But the best view seems to be that it was Aramaic. (On this see Meier 1991, 255–68.) This would mean that when the Greek New Testament reports what Jesus is supposed to have said, it gives us a translation of words whose original “text” has not been preserved, making it very difficult to tell how accurate the translation is. On Spinoza’s theory of scriptural interpretation, that uncomfortable fact increases the already considerable difficulties we face in knowing what Jesus actually said.

1. Readers familiar with Hobbes’ Leviathan, or Hume’s Natural History of Religion, might well be reminded of those texts when they read Spinoza’s Preface.

2. Cf. Preface, §§16–19 and 34, with Letter 30, IV/166/20ff. (and in Volume I, Letter 23, IV/145–46). For my system of references, see Short Titles and Abbreviations.

3. Spinoza’s history of the Old Testament is worked out in TTP viii–x. He does not give the New Testament the kind of critical examination he gives the Old. He offers various (not entirely plausible) reasons for this restraint (in x, 48), but the most likely reasons are tact and prudence. In Curley 2015b I’ve tried to work out some of the points he might have made had he really felt free to say what he thought. One is his suggestion that the original language of the New Testament was probably Aramaic, not Greek, the Greek text being a translation of a lost Aramaic original. (The language Spinoza calls “Syriac” in ADN. XXVI, attached to xi, 3, is in fact a dialect of Aramaic.) For more on this, see p. 64.

4. Spinoza seems to have acquired this reputation as early as 1661, before he had published even his exposition of Descartes’ Principles. On this see the travel diary of a young Danish scientist, Olaus Borch, reported in Klever 1989.

5. Spinoza allows that miracles occur if “miracle” just means an event which the person reporting the miracle cannot explain by known laws of nature. He denies that miracles occur, if “miracle” means an event contrary to the laws of nature. Cf. the Glossary on miracle. The later correspondence with Oldenburg shows how hard it could be, even for a fairly liberal Christian, to accept that miracles occur only in the sense Spinoza allows. See Letters 71, 73–75, 77, and 78.

6. Some like the label “pantheist,” often used, by those who advocate it, without any clear explanation of its meaning. One common, but ambiguous, formula is that pantheism involves an identification of God with nature. The attribution of this view to Spinoza is usually supported by pointing his use of the phrase Deus sive Natura (God or Nature) in the Preface to Part IV of the Ethics, and by statements like: “I do not separate God from nature, as everyone known to me has done.” (Letter 6, IV/36/24. Cf. Letter 73, IV/307) But if identifying God with nature means identifying God with the universe, understood as the totality of things, that’s a view Spinoza seems to reject, rather heatedly, in his reply to Van Velthuysen, Letter 43 (IV/223b/22-25). For more on this, see the Glossary, under ATHEISM.

7. See Revah 1959. Revah’s explanation was based on the accounts of two Spanish visitors to the Netherlands who reported back to the Inquisition about religious dissent in the former Spanish colony. Some commentators have been skeptical of Revah’s findings. For example: Van Bunge 1997. I’ve defended it in Curley 2015a, arguing that the congruence between the reports to the Inquisition and the teachings of the TTP confirms the accuracy of the Spanish visitors’ reports.

8. In Part I of his Guide, Maimonides held that (with some exceptions) the only true predications we can make of God are negative ones: God is not this, he is not that. The exceptions he allowed were predications of certain actions of God: that he did this or that he did that (Guide I, 52).

9. On this see Raphael 1994 or Nadler 2001.

10. There is precedent in the Jewish tradition for philosophers questioning the occurrence of miracles. Maimonides is not as unequivocal on the matter as Spinoza is, but he is clearly reluctant to interpret the biblical accounts of miracles as events truly contrary to the regular operations of nature. See his Guide II, 29; his “Essay on Resurrection” (in Crisis, 223–24); and Fox 1990, passim.

11. See iv, 23–37, and my analysis of this argument in Curley 1996. The argument assumes that law, in the relevant sense, is a command which the person commanded has the power to disobey, that a command is an expression of the will of the one who issues it, and that no one has the power to thwart the will of an omnipotent being.

12. This is not to say that Spinoza does not set some limits to freedom of expression. See the discussion of seditious opinions in xx, 20–23.

13. The doctrines of the universal faith Spinoza advocates in xiv, 24–34, are explicitly left open to a broad interpretation of the kind even a Spinozistic philosopher would be able to accept. In the end, though faith is supposed to be necessary to salvation, it does not matter what that faith is, so long as it leads to actions which conform to the fundamental moral requirements. That Spinoza was a pluralist in religion, in the sense that he believed many different religions offer ways to salvation, emerges clearly in his correspondence with Albert Burgh (see Letter 76), as I’ve argued in Curley 2010.

14. The former rationale was developed by Augustine, in his correspondence regarding the Donatist controversy (see particularly Letters 93 and 185). The latter by Aquinas, in ST, II-II, qu. 10, art. 1, art. 3.

15. As with the Spanish visitors’ reports to the Inquisition (discussed above, p. 50), not everyone finds the reports of a lost defense credible. The editors of the translation in ALM are skeptics. But this may be because some defenders of the early reports made excessive claims for them, e.g., that the central theological chapters in the TTP came from the defense Spinoza wrote in 1656. See ALM, 6–7. I would argue only that Spinoza reused some material from his earlier work, but not that any of the recycled material corresponded to a chapter in the TTP. I would also suppose that Spinoza made some (possibly significant) changes in the material he did reuse. For an argument in favor of a general acceptance of the reports, see Curley 2015a. Though I disagree with ALM about this particular issue, I recommend their introduction to the TTP for its valuable suggestions about the evolution of this work.

16. “First” in the order of explanation, not first in time, since Spinoza believes that the universe is eternal.

17. I’ve articulated my position regarding Leo Strauss more fully in Curley 2015b. Like most of my articles on the TTP, this piece is available on my website: https://sites.google.com/a/umich.edu/emcurley/.

18. See Curley 1990a for a discussion of some contemporary reactions.

19. ADN. XXI is quite explicit about this.

20. Pace Lagrée 2004, 10, or Matheron 1971, 149, or Nadler 2011, 247n6.

21. Price 1994 is particularly helpful on this subject.

22. See Leviathan xiii, 9. Sometimes Hobbes calls this state “the natural condition of mankind”; sometimes the “state of nature.” In any case, it is important to understand that he is not necessarily referring to a primitive stage in the history of mankind, before the institution of governments, but to any condition where men live without a government possessing effective power to make and enforce laws, such as might occur if government entirely breaks down. Cf. Leviathan xiii, 11.

Here I assume an interpretation of Hobbes defended in my introduction to the Hackett edition of Leviathan. I call the statement quoted hyperbolic, because I don’t think Hobbes really believed that the state of nature would literally be “a war of every man against every man.” I think he did believe that the state of nature would be something approaching that condition, which my paraphrase attempts to capture.

23. TTP iv, 9–12. Hobbes had denied that there is such a thing as our highest good. Cf. Leviathan xi, 1.

24. Though he does say in TTP v, 23, that if one man alone has the sovereignty, he needs to have some quality which surpasses ordinary human nature. If he doesn’t, then he must at least try to persuade the people that he does. Presumably the same would hold of a group of patricians who had the sovereignty collectively. And in xvi, 36, he argues that a democratic state is the most natural state, because it approaches most nearly the freedom and equality of the state of nature.

25. In this section I summarize the information given in ALM, 15–16, 19–37.

26. ALM comment that “l’Adnotatio 20 nous étonne quelque peu par la véhémence avec laquelle une simple correction du texte biblique—une correction évidente, qui est adoptée par toutes les traductions modernes—est attaqué” (ALM, 31).

27. An exception is Martin Yaffe’s translation of the TTP, published by Focus Philosophical Library in 2004.

28. Leibniz, Akademie edition, I, i, 148. The bracketed phrase is a conjecture about a word illegible in the manuscript.

[III/3] Theological-Political Treatise

SEVERAL DISCUSSIONS
SHOWING THAT THE REPUBLIC CAN GRANT
FREEDOM OF PHILOSOPHIZING
WITHOUT HARMING ITS PEACE OR PIETY,
AND CANNOT DENY IT
WITHOUT DESTROYING ITS PEACE AND PIETY

By this we know that we remain in God and that God remains in us, because he has given us of his Spirit. 1 John 4:13¹

Hamburg Henry Künraht² 1670

[III/5] Preface

[1] If men could manage all their affairs by a definite plan, or if fortune were always favorable to them, no one would be in the grip of superstition. But often they are in such a tight spot that they cannot decide [5] on any plan. Then they usually vacillate wretchedly between hope and fear, desiring immoderately the uncertain goods of fortune, and ready to believe anything whatever. While the mind is in doubt, it’s easily driven this way or that³—and all the more easily when, shaken by hope and fear, it comes to a standstill. At other times, it’s over-confident, boastful and presumptuous.

[10] [2] Everyone, I think, knows this, though most people, I believe, do not know themselves. For no one who has lived among men has failed to see that when they are prospering, even if they are quite inexperienced, they are generally so full of their own wisdom that they think themselves wronged if anyone wants to give them advice—whereas in adversity they don’t know where to turn,⁴ and beg advice from everyone. [15] They hear no advice so foolish, so absurd or groundless, that they do not follow it. Now they hope for better things; now they fear worse, all for the slightest reasons. [3] If, while fear makes them turn this way and that, they see something happen which reminds them of some past good or evil, they think it portends either a fortunate or an unfortunate outcome; they call it a favorable or unfavorable omen, even [20] though it may deceive them a hundred times. Again, if, in amazement, they witness something strange, they believe it to be a portent which indicates the anger of the gods or of the supreme divinity. Subject to superstition and contrary to religion, they consider it a sacrilege not to avert the disaster by sacrifices and prayers.⁵ In this way they invent countless things and interpret nature in amazing ways, as if the whole of nature were as crazy as they are.

[25] [4] Because this is so, we see that the men most thoroughly enslaved to every kind of superstition are those who immoderately desire uncertain things, and that they all invoke divine aid with prayers and unmanly tears, especially when they are in danger and cannot help themselves. Because reason cannot show a certain way to the hollow [30] things they desire, they call it blind, and human wisdom vain. The delusions of the imagination, on the other hand, dreams and childish follies, they believe to be divine answers. Indeed, they believe God rejects the wise, and writes his decrees, not in the mind, but in the entrails of animals; they think fools, madmen and birds predict his decrees by divine inspiration and prompting. That’s how crazy fear makes men.⁶

[III/6] [5] The reason, then, why superstition arises, lasts, and increases, is fear.⁷ If anyone wants particular examples of this, beyond those already mentioned, let him consider Alexander, who began to use seers from genuine superstition⁸ only when he first learned to fear fortune at the [5] Susidan Gates.⁹ But after he defeated Darius, he stopped consulting soothsayers and seers until an unfavorable turn of events¹⁰ once again terrified him. Because the Bactrians had defected, the Scythians were threatening battle, and he himself was rendered inactive by a wound,

. . . he lapsed again into superstition, that mocker of men’s minds, and ordered Aristander, to whom he had surrendered his credulity, to inquire [10] into the outcome of things through sacrifices.¹¹

[6] We could give a great many examples like this which would show most clearly that men are tormented by superstition only so long as they are afraid; that all the things they have ever worshipped in illusory religion have been nothing but apparitions, the delusions of a sad and fearful mind; and finally, that it is when states have been in the greatest [15] difficulties, that seers have had the greatest control over ordinary people, and been most dangerous¹² to their Kings. But I think everyone knows these things well enough; so I’ll say no more about them.

[7] Some say that superstition arises from the fact that all mortals have a certain confused idea of divinity.¹³ My account of the cause of superstition clearly entails, first, that all men by nature are subject to [20] superstition; second, that like all mockeries of the mind and impulses of frenzy, it is necessarily very fluctuating and inconstant; and finally, that it is protected only by hope, hate, anger, and deception, because it arises, not from reason, but only from the most powerful affects.

[25] [8] As easy, then, as it is to take men in with any superstition whatever, it’s still just as difficult to make them persist in one and the same superstition. The common people always remain equally wretched, so they are never satisfied for long. What pleases them most is what is new, and has not yet deceived them. This inconstancy has been the cause of many uprisings and bloody wars. As is evident from what we have [30] just said, and as Curtius aptly noted, “Nothing governs the multitude more effectively than superstition” (Quintus Curtius, IV, x, 7). That’s why they are easily led, under the pretext of religion, now to worship their Kings as Gods, now to curse and loathe them as the common plague of the human race.

[9] To avoid this evil [of inconstancy], immense zeal is brought to [III/7] bear to embellish religion—whether the religion is true or illusory—with ceremony and pomp, so that it will be thought to have greater weight than any other influence, and so that everyone will always worship it with the utmost deference. The Turks have succeeded so well at this that they consider it a sacrilege even to debate religion; they fill everyone’s judgment with so many prejudices that they leave no room [5] in the mind for sound reason, nor even for doubting.¹⁴

[10] The greatest secret of monarchic rule,¹⁵ and its main interest, is to keep men deceived, and to cloak in the specious name of Religion the fear by which they must be checked, so that they will fight for slavery as they would for their survival,¹⁶ and will think it not shameful, but a most honorable achievement, to give their life and blood that one [10] man may have a ground for boasting.¹⁷ Nevertheless, in a free republic nothing more unfortunate can be thought of or attempted. For it is completely contrary to the general freedom to fill the free judgment of each man with prejudices, or to restrain it in any way.

[11] As for the rebellions which people stir up under the pretext of [15] religion, they surely arise only because laws are made about speculative matters, opinions are considered crimes and condemned as wicked, and their defenders and followers are sacrificed, not to the public well-being, but only to the hatred and cruelty of their opponents.¹⁸ But if, by the legislation of the state, only deeds were condemned and words went unpunished,¹⁹ such rebellions could not be clothed in any pretext [20] of right, nor controversies turned into rebellions.

[12] Since, then, we happen to have that rare good fortune²⁰—that we live in a Republic in which everyone is granted complete freedom of judgment, and is permitted to worship God according to his mentality, and in which nothing is thought to be dearer or sweeter than freedom—I believed I would be doing something neither unwelcome, nor useless, [25] if I showed not only that this freedom can be granted without harm to piety and the peace of the Republic, but also that it cannot be abolished unless piety and the Peace of the Republic are abolished with it.

[13] That’s the main thing I resolved to demonstrate in this treatise. To do this it was necessary to indicate the main prejudices regarding religion, i.e., the traces of our ancient bondage, and then also the [30] prejudices regarding the right of the supreme 'powers.²¹ Many, with the most shameless license, are eager to take away the greater part of that right, and under the pretext of religion to turn the heart of the multitude (who are still at the mercy of pagan superstition) away from the supreme 'powers, so that everything may collapse again into slavery.²² I’ll indicate briefly in what order I show these things; but first I must [III/8] say what reasons have impelled me to write.

[14] I’ve often wondered that men who boast that they profess the Christian religion—i.e., love, gladness, peace, restraint, and good faith toward all—would contend so unfairly against one another, and indulge daily in the bitterest hatred toward one another, so that each man’s faith is known more easily from his hatred and contentiousness than from his [5] love, gladness, etc. Long ago things reached the point where you can hardly know what anyone is, whether Christian, Turk, Jew, or Pagan, except by the external dress and adornment of his body, or because he frequents this or that Place of Worship, or because he’s attached to this or that opinion, or because he’s accustomed to swear by the words of some master.²³ They all lead the same kind of life.

[10] [15] What’s the cause of this evil? Doubtless that religion has commonly consisted in regarding the ministries of the Church as positions conferring status, its offices as sources of income, and its clergy as deserving the highest honor. For as soon as this abuse began in the Church, the worst men immediately acquired a great desire to administer the sacred offices; the love of propagating divine religion degenerated [15] into sordid greed and ambition; and the temple itself became a Theater, where one hears, not learned ecclesiastics, but orators, each possessed by a longing, not to teach the people, but to carry them away with admiration for himself, to censure publicly those who disagree, and to teach only those new and unfamiliar doctrines which the common [20] people most wonder at. This had to lead to great dissension, envy, and hatred, whose violence no passage of time could lessen.

[16] It’s no wonder, then, that nothing has remained of the old Religion but its external ceremony, by which the common people seem more to flatter God than to worship him. No wonder faith is nothing now but credulity and prejudices. And what prejudices! They turn [25] men from rational beings into beasts, since they completely prevent everyone from freely using his judgment and from distinguishing the true from the false, and seem deliberately designed to put out the light of the intellect entirely. [17] Piety—Oh immortal God!—and Religion consist in absurd mysteries, and those who disdain reason completely, [30] and reject and shun the intellect as corrupt by nature—this is what’s most unfair—they are the ones who are thought to have the divine light.²⁴ Of course, if they had even the least spark of divine light, they would not rave so proudly, but would learn to worship God more wisely, and would surpass others in love, not, as now, in hate. If they really feared for the salvation of those who disagree with them, and not for their own position, they would not persecute them in a hostile [III/9] spirit, but pity them.

[18] Moreover, if they had any Divine light, it would at least be manifest from their teaching. I grant that they could never have wondered sufficiently at the most profound mysteries of Scripture. But I don’t see that they have taught anything but Aristotelian and Platonic speculations. Not to seem to constantly follow Pagans, they have accommodated [5] Scripture to these speculations.²⁵ [19] It wasn’t enough for them to be insane with the Greeks, they wanted the Prophets to rave with them. This clearly shows, of course, that they don’t see the divinity of Scripture, not even in a dream. The more extravagantly they wonder at these mysteries, the more they show that they don’t so much believe Scripture as give lip service to it.

[10] This is also evident from the fact that most of them presuppose, as a foundation for understanding Scripture and unearthing its true meaning, that it is everywhere true and divine. So what we ought to establish by understanding Scripture, and subjecting it to a strict examination, and what we would be far better taught by Scripture itself, which needs no human inventions, they maintain at the outset as a rule for the [15] interpretation of Scripture.²⁶

[20] When I weighed these matters in my mind—when I considered that the natural light is not only disdained, but condemned by many as a source of impiety, that human inventions are treated as divine teachings, that credulity is valued as faith, that the controversies of the Philosophers are debated with the utmost passion in the Church and in the State, and that in consequence the most savage hatreds and [20] disagreements arise, by which men are easily turned to rebellions—when I considered these and a great many other things, which it would take too long to tell here, I resolved earnestly to examine Scripture afresh, with an unprejudiced and free spirit, to affirm nothing about it, and to admit nothing as its teaching, which it did not very clearly teach me.²⁷

[25] [21] With this precaution I constructed a Method of interpreting the Sacred books, and equipped with this, I began by asking, first of all [in Ch. 1]: what was Prophecy? and in what way did God reveal himself to the Prophets? why were these men accepted by God? was it because they had lofty thoughts about God and nature, or only because of their piety? Once I knew the answers to these questions, I [30] was easily able to determine [in Ch. 2, III/42/26ff.] that the authority of the Prophets has weight only in those matters which bear on the practice of life and on true virtue, but that their opinions²⁸ are of little concern to us.

[22] Knowing this, I next asked [in Ch. 3] why the Hebrews were called God’s chosen people? When I saw that this was only because God had chosen a certain land for them, where they could live securely and [III/10] comfortably, from that I learned that the Laws God revealed to Moses were nothing but the legislation of the particular state of the Hebrews, and that no one else was obliged to accept them, indeed that even the Hebrews were bound by them only so long as their state lasted.

[23] Next, to know whether Scripture implies that the human intellect [5] is corrupt by nature, I wanted to ask [in Chs. 4 and 5] whether universal Religion, or the divine law revealed to the whole human race through the Prophets and Apostles, was anything other than what the natural light also teaches? [and in Ch. 6] whether miracles happen contrary to the order of nature? and whether they teach God’s existence and providence any more certainly and clearly than do things we understand [10] clearly and distinctly through their first causes?

[24] But since I found nothing in what Scripture expressly teaches which did not agree with the intellect, or which would contradict it, and moreover, since I saw that the Prophets taught only very simple things, which everyone could easily perceive, and that they embellished these things in that style, and confirmed them with those reasons, by [15] which they could most readily move the mind of the multitude to devotion toward God, I was fully persuaded that Scripture leaves reason absolutely free, and that it has nothing in common with Philosophy, but that each rests on its own foundation.

[25] To demonstrate these things conclusively,²⁹ and to settle the whole matter, I show [in Ch. 7] how Scripture is to be interpreted, and [20] that our whole knowledge of it and of spiritual matters must be sought from Scripture alone, and not from those things we know by the natural light. From this I pass to showing [in Chs. 8–11] what prejudices have arisen from the fact that the common people, enslaved to superstition and loving the remnants of time more than eternity itself, worship the books of Scripture rather than the Word of God itself.

[25] [26] After this, I show [Chs. 12 and 13] that the revealed Word of God is not some certain number of books, but a simple concept of the divine mind revealed to the Prophets: to obey God wholeheartedly, by practicing justice and loving-kindness. And I show that this is what Scripture teaches, according to the power of understanding and opinions of those to whom the Prophets and Apostles were accustomed to preach this Word of God. They did this so that men would embrace [30] the Word of God without any conflict and with their whole heart.

[27] Having shown the fundamentals of faith [in Ch. 14], I conclude finally that revealed knowledge has no object but obedience, and indeed that it is entirely distinct from natural knowledge, both in its object and in its foundation and means. Revealed knowledge has nothing in common with natural knowledge, but each is in charge of its own [III/11] domain, without any conflict with the other. [In Chapter 15 I show that] neither ought to be the handmaid of the other.³⁰

[28] Next, because men vary greatly in their mentality, because one is content with these opinions, another with those, and because what moves one person to religion moves another to laughter, from these considerations, together with what has been said above, I conclude that [5] each person must be allowed freedom of judgment and the 'power to interpret the foundations of faith according to his own mentality. We must judge the piety of each person’s faith from his works alone. In this way everyone will be able to obey God with an unprejudiced and free spirit, and everyone will prize only justice and loving-kindness.

[29] After showing the freedom the revealed divine law grants everyone, I proceed to the second part of the question: [to show] that this [10] same freedom not only can be granted without harm to the peace of the republic and the right of the supreme 'powers, but also that it must be granted, and cannot be taken away without great danger to the peace and great harm to the whole Republic.

To demonstrate these conclusions, I begin [in Ch. 16] with the [15] natural right of each person, which extends as far as each person’s desire and power extend. By the right of nature no one is bound to live according to another person’s mentality, but each one is the defender of his own freedom. [30] Moreover, I show that no one really gives up this right unless he transfers his 'power to defend himself to someone else, and that the person³¹ who must necessarily retain this natural right absolutely is the one to whom everyone has transferred, [20] together with his 'power to defend himself, his right to live according to his own mentality.

From this I show that those who have the sovereignty have the right to do whatever they can do, that they alone are the defenders of right and freedom, and that everyone else ought always to act according to their decree alone. [31] But no one can so deprive himself³² of his 'power to defend himself that he ceases to be a man. From this I [25] infer [in Ch. 17] that no one can be absolutely deprived of his natural right, but that subjects retain, as by a right of nature, certain things which cannot be taken from them without great danger to the state. If these things are not expressly agreed on with those who have the sovereignty, they are tacitly granted to the subjects.

From these considerations, I pass to the Republic of the Hebrews [Chs. 17 and 18], which I describe at sufficient length to show how, and [30] by whose³³ decree, Religion began to have the force of law; in passing I also show other things which seemed worth knowing. [32] Then I show [Ch. 19] that those who have sovereignty are the defenders and interpreters, not only of civil law, but also of sacred law, and that they alone have the right to decide what is just, what is unjust, what is pious and what impious. And finally [Ch. 20], I conclude that the sovereign [III/12] powers retain this right best, and can preserve their rule safely, only if everyone is allowed to think what he will, and to say what he thinks.³⁴

[33] These, Philosophical reader,³⁵ are the things I here give you to examine. I trust that the importance and utility of the argument, both [5] in the work as a whole and in each chapter, will make it welcome. I might add several more things about this, but I don’t want this preface to grow into a book, particularly since I believe the main points³⁶ are more than adequately known to Philosophers. As for those who are not philosophers, I am not eager to commend this treatise to them. There’s nothing in it which I might hope could please them in any way. I know [10] how stubbornly the mind retains those prejudices the heart has embraced under the guise of piety. I know also that it’s as impossible to save the common people from superstition as it is from fear. And I know, finally, that what the common people call constancy is obstinacy. It’s not governed by reason, but carried away by an impulse to praise or to blame.

[34] I don’t ask the common people to read these things, nor anyone else who is struggling with the same affects as the common people. [15] Indeed, I would prefer them to neglect this book entirely,³⁷ rather than make trouble by interpreting it perversely, as they usually do with everything. They will do themselves no good, but will harm others who would philosophize more freely if they weren’t prevented by this one thought: that reason ought to be the handmaid of theology. For [those who need only to be set free of that prejudice], I’m confident that this work will be extremely useful.

[20] [35] But since many will have neither the leisure nor perhaps the disposition to read through everything I’ve written, I’m constrained to warn here also, as I do at the end of this Treatise, that I write nothing which I do not most willingly submit to the examination and judgment of the supreme 'Powers of my Country. For if they judge that any of the things I say are in conflict with the laws of my country, or harmful to the general welfare, I wish to withdraw it. I know that I am a man [25] and may have erred.³⁸ Still, I have taken great care not to err, and taken care especially that whatever I might write would be entirely consistent with the laws of my country, with piety and with morals.

1. Spinoza will cite this passage again in xiii, 22; xiv, 17; and Letter 76. The preceding verse reads: “No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God lives in us.” He will call attention to this context in xiii, 11. See also the discussion of “the spirit of God” in i, 25–40. Spinoza normally quotes the New Testament from the translation by Immanuel Tremellius (c. 1510–1580), an Italian Jewish convert to Christianity who translated the Bible into Latin from Hebrew and Syriac. In the sixteenth century some New Testament scholars believed that the Syriac version of the New Testament was older than the Greek texts on which Jerome had based his translation. See Austin 2007, 126–29. Spinoza thinks the Syriac text may be the original and not a translation. See ADN. XXVI at xi, 3, and Gebhardt V, 1.

2. Both the publisher and the place of publication are fictitious. In fact, the TTP was published in Amsterdam by Jan Rieuwertsz.

3. Leopold 1902 noted many allusions in Spinoza’s writings to the plays of Terence, which Van den Enden used as a means of teaching his students Latin (Meinsma 1983, ch. 5). Here the allusion is to Andria 266. For an analysis of the rhetorical structure of the Preface, see Akkerman 1985.

4. Here the allusion is to Terence’s Heautontimorumenos 946. The theme recurs in the Ethics: III P17S, III P50S, and Def. Aff. 1Exp. (ALM).

5. Spinoza’s language recalls Tacitus’ description of the Jews’ response to prodigies before the Roman siege of Jerusalem in 70 C.E. (Histories V, xiii). Tacitus criticizes the Jews for not performing appropriate religious rituals, because of a superstitious belief that it would be impious to do so (ALM). Jer. 10:2 instructs the Jews not to follow the heathen in being dismayed at signs in the heavens.

6. Spinoza’s rhetoric here—Tantum timor homines insanire facit—echoes a famous line in Lucretius I, 101: Tantum religio potuit suadere malorum, how great the evils religion could persuade men to (ALM).

7. Cf. Hobbes’ analysis of the natural causes of religion in Leviathan xii, 1–11. Hobbes acknowledges no substantive difference between religion and superstition (cf. Leviathan vi, 36 with xi, 26). For the origins in Epicurean thought, see Strauss 1965, ch. 1.

8. The phrase superstitio animi comes from Quintus Curtius V, iv, 1. I believe the intended contrast is between a superstitious belief sincerely held and the manipulative use of the people's superstitious beliefs, by leaders who do not share them. Cf. Quintus Curtius IV, x, 1–8, cited below at III/6/30. ALM note that Curtius acquired a reputation as a “libertine” historian because of his skepticism concerning prodigies. Next to Tacitus, Curtius is the ancient historian Spinoza cites most frequently (Gebhardt V, 7).

9. *See Quintus Curtius V, iv, [1].* “Susidan Gates” was the name the Persians gave to a mountain pass through which Alexander tried to march with his army, suffering his first serious defeat. See Quintus Curtius V, iii, 16–23.

10. temporis iniquitate, an allusion to Quintus Curtius VII, vii, 6.

11. *As Curtius himself says, Bk. VII, §7.* (LCL reads ludibrium where Spinoza has ludibria.) The influence of fortune, both good and bad, on Alexander’s character is a major theme in Curtius, who attributes Alexander’s virtues to his nature, and his vices either to his fortune or to his youth. Cf. X, v, 26–36. Among the vices: his aspiration to divine honors and his trust in oracles.

12. maximeque formidolosos, alluding to Tacitus, Agricola 39 (ALM). That the power of kings is often precarious will be an important theme in the Political Treatise. Cf. TP vii, 14, 20.

13. Cf. Calvin, Institutes I, iii–iv. Calvin cites Cicero’s De natura deorum I, xvi, 43, in support of his claim that God has implanted in all men some understanding of divinity. But he thinks most actual religious practice—both pagan and Roman Catholic—is a superstitious corruption of this knowledge, arising from either ignorance or malice.

14. Cf. Spinoza’s comments on Islam in Letter 76, at IV/322/7–12. Pufendorf wrote in a letter to Thomasius that Spinoza owned a copy of the Quran which he had bound with the New Testament, suggesting a certain equivalence between these works in his mind. See Freudenthal/Walther 2006.

15. The expression Spinoza uses here, regiminis Monarchici . . . arcanum, echoes a phrase in Tacitus, arcana imperii (e.g., in Annales II, 36), as noted by ALM, 698. This language was also used in the title of a book by Clapmarius which Spinoza possessed. Gebhardt V, 4, reproduces Clapmarius’s definition.

16. salus. RT has vrijheid, freedom, a possible translation of salus.

17. An allusion to Quintus Curtius IV, x, 3 (ALM).

18. ALM suggest an allusion to Tacitus, Annals XV, xliv, which attributes the persecution of the Christians under Nero to Nero’s cruelty rather than to any concern for the public good.

19. An allusion to Tacitus, Annals I, lxxii, where the issue is Tiberius’ revival of the law of treason, which had originally applied to official misconduct damaging to the state (such as betrayal of an army), but came to be applied to speech critical of the emperor (ALM).

20. Rara foelicitas. An allusion to a passage in Tacitus (Histories I, i, 4: “in that rare good fortune of the times when it is permitted to think what you like and to say what you think”), which Spinoza will refer to again in §32, in the title of Ch. xx, and in xx, 46. Hume used the same line from Tacitus as the motto for his Treatise, a work from which he excised his own treatment of miracles in the hope of winning the approval of Bishop Butler. See Mossner 1980, 112.

In Letter 14 Oldenburg had made a similar claim about the freedom of the Dutch Republic. That Spinoza’s praise of the Republic is ironic seems clear from Letter 30, explaining his reasons for writing the TTP, from the fact that he felt obliged to conceal his own identity and that of his publisher on his title page, and from §17 of this Preface. Cf. also the comments on xx, 40, and Israel 1995, 675–76, 789–90. I’ve discussed these matters in Curley 2015c.

21. On the meaning of the single quote mark before “powers” see the Glossary entry: POWER, 'POWER.

22. An allusion to Tacitus, Annals i, 7, repeated at TP vii, 2 (ALM).

23. An allusion to Horace’s Epistles I, 1, v. 14 (ALM). Cf. xii, 7.

24. Cf. Calvin, Institutes II, ii, 18–21. Cf. below §23 and xv, 10.

25. Cf. below, i, 19; xiii, 5; and Curley 2002.

26. Cf. Manasseh 1842/1972, I, ix: “The Bible being in the highest degree true, it cannot contain any text really contradictory of another.” Calvin also seems committed to the consistency of Scripture, taking “the beautiful agreement of all the parts with one another” to provide confirmation of the divine origin of its doctrine, from which its truth and consistency would seem to follow. Cf. Calvin, Institutes, I, viii, 1. See also his references to the prophets as taking ‘dictation’ from the Holy Spirit (e.g., in Institutes IV, viii, 6) and to the apostles as “sure and genuine scribes of the Holy Spirit” (Institutes IV, viii, 9). But Calvin’s position on this issue is a matter of dispute among those who study him. See McNeill 1959, and Dowey 1994.

27. The project, then, is fundamentally an extension of Cartesian method into an area where Descartes himself had not dared to tread. I’ve discussed this in Curley 1994.

28. That is, their speculations about God and nature. Cf. Hobbes, Leviathan viii, 26.

29. Note that Spinoza presents the argument of the first six chapters as leading (non-demonstratively) to one of the principal conclusions of his work: that philosophy and theology are independent of one another (cf. Ch. xiv). But up to this point he has not explained the new method for interpreting Scripture (mentioned in §21) which equipped him to reach this conclusion. In Ch. vii he will explain the method, and then begin re-arguing the conclusion. His claim is that the revised argument is demonstrative.

30. ALM cite various medieval theologians who had held that philosophy should be subservient to (the handmaid of) theology, most notably Aquinas ST (I, qu. 1, art. 5) and Albertus Magnus (Summa theologiae Bk. I, Part I, Tractatus I, qu. 6). Cf. below §34.

31. “The person” translates a personal pronoun which, as Bennett notes, might refer to either an individual or a collective agent.

32. The first edition has privare. Most editors (e.g., Gebhardt, Akkerman, et al.) emend to se privare; V-L (1914) emended to privari. Cf. xvii, 1, III/201/14–15.

33. Spinoza uses a plural pronoun here, implying that it was by human decree that religion began to have the force of law.

34. A recurrence of the allusion to Tacitus in §12, which also appears at III/239 and III/247.

35. A critical passage for the interpretation of the TTP. Who are the intended audience for Spinoza’s work? For conflicting views, see Strauss 1988, 162–63; Harris 1978, 3; Donagan 1988, 14–15; and Smith 1997, 38–54. I take it that Spinoza is, as he appears to be, addressing the philosophical reader. But this does not necessarily mean that he is addressing only fully formed philosophers. I believe he particularly wants to address those would-be philosophers whose thinking is hampered by a prejudice about the authority of Scripture (see the end of §34, and cf. my comment on his correspondence with Van Blijenbergh, Collected Works, I, 350). I believe that exchange persuaded him that to secure a sympathetic hearing for his own work, he would have to show that in cases of conflict, the teachings of Scripture regarding speculative matters are not to be preferred to the demonstrations of philosophers. Cf. Letter 21 (IV/126) and Letter 23 (IV/145).

36. It would be highly paradoxical to write a book whose main points you took to be already known by its intended audience. But this sentence need not mean (as some have thought) that the main points of the book are already well-known to philosophers, only that the main points Spinoza would make if he extended the Preface are already well-known to philosophers. The best candidate for a philosopher who grasped the main points of the book is Hobbes, but he was unusual for his time both in his critical approach to Scripture and in the secular basis he provided for political theory. On the relation between Hobbes and Spinoza, see Curley 1992, 1994, and 1996.

37. Hence he discouraged translation of this work into Dutch. See Letter 44.

38. Alluding to a line from Terence’s Heautontimorumenos 77. Cf. x, 36; xx, 470.

[III/15] CHAPTER I

Of Prophecy

[5] [1] Prophecy, or Revelation, is the certain knowledge of some matter which God has revealed to men. And a Prophet is one who interprets God’s revelations to those who cannot have certain knowledge of them, and who therefore can only embrace what has been revealed by simple [10] faith. For among the Hebrews a Prophet is called נביא, nabi,¹** that is, spokesman and interpreter. But Scripture always uses this term for an interpreter of God, as we can infer from Exodus 7:1, where God says to Moses: See, I make you a God to Pharaoh, and your brother Aaron will be your Prophet. This is as if he were to say that since Aaron performs the part of a Prophet, by interpreting what you say to Pharaoh, you will [15] therefore be like a God to Pharaoh, or one who acts in place of God.

[2] In the following Chapter we will discuss Prophets. Here the subject is Prophecy. From the definition just given, it follows that natural knowledge can be called Prophecy. For what we know by the natural [20] light depends only on the knowledge of God and of his² eternal decrees. But because this natural knowledge is common to all men (depending, as it does, on foundations common to all), the common people, who always thirst for things rare and foreign to their nature, who spurn their natural gifts, do not value it highly. When they speak of prophetic [25] knowledge, they mean to exclude natural knowledge.

[3] Nevertheless, we can call natural knowledge divine with as much right as anything else, since God’s nature, insofar as we participate in it, and his decrees, as it were, dictate it to us.³ It differs from the knowledge everyone calls divine only in two respects: the knowledge people call divine extends beyond the limits of natural knowledge, and the laws [30] of human Nature, considered in themselves, cannot be the cause of the knowledge people call divine. But natural knowledge is in no way [III/16] inferior to prophetic knowledge in the certainty it involves, or in the source from which it is derived, viz. God—unless, perhaps, someone wants to understand (or rather to dream) that the Prophets had, indeed, a human body, but not a human mind, and thus that their sensations [5] and consciousness were of an entirely different nature than ours are.

[4] Though natural 'knowledge is divine, nevertheless those who pass it on cannot be called Prophets.⁴** For they teach things other men can perceive and embrace with as much certainty and excellence as they do, [10] and not by faith alone. [5] Therefore, since our mind—simply from the fact that it contains God’s Nature objectively in itself, and participates in it—has the power to form certain notions which explain the nature of things and teach us how to conduct our lives, we can rightly maintain that the nature of the mind, insofar as it is conceived in this way, is the [15] first cause of divine revelation. For whatever we clearly and distinctly understand, the idea and nature of God dictates to us (as we have just indicated), not indeed in words, but in a far more excellent way, which agrees best with the nature of the mind. Anyone who has tasted the certainty of the intellect must have experienced this in himself.

[20] [6] But my principal purpose is to speak only of what concerns Scripture. So these few words about the natural Light are enough. Now I’ll discuss in greater detail the other causes and means by which God reveals to men things which exceed the limits of natural knowledge—and even those which do not exceed them. For nothing prevents God from communicating to men in other ways the same things we know [25] by the light of nature.

[7] But whatever can be said about these matters must be sought only from Scripture. For what can we say about things exceeding the limits of our intellect beyond what’s been handed down to us, either orally or in writing, from the Prophets themselves? And because today, [30] so far as I know, we have no Prophets,⁵ our only option is to expound the sacred books left us by the Prophets. But with this precaution: we should not maintain anything about such matters, or attribute anything to the Prophets themselves, which they did not say clearly and repeatedly.

[8] Here it is to be noted particularly that the Jews never mention—nor do they heed—intermediate, or particular, causes,⁶ but for the [III/17] sake of religion and of piety, or (as is commonly said) of devotion, they always recur to God. For example, if they have made money by trade, they say that God has given it to them; if they desire that something should happen, they say that God has so disposed their heart; and if they even think something, they say that God has told them this. So [5] we must not regard as Prophecy and supernatural knowledge everything Scripture says God has told someone, but only what Scripture explicitly says was Prophecy or revelation, or whose status as prophecy follows from the circumstances of the narration.

[9] If, then, we run through the Sacred books, we will see that [10] everything God revealed to the Prophets was revealed to them either in words, or in visible forms, or in both words and visible forms. The words and the visible forms were either true, and outside the imagination of the Prophet who heard or saw them, or else imaginary, occurring because the imagination of the Prophet was so disposed, even while he was awake, that he clearly seemed to himself to hear words or to [15] see something.⁷

[10] It was by a true voice that God revealed to Moses the Laws he willed to be prescribed to the Hebrews, as is evident from Exodus 25:22, where he says ונועדתי לך שם ודברתי אתך מעל הכפורת מבין שני הכרובים and I will be available to you there, and I will speak with you from that part [20] of the cover which is between the two cherubim. This indeed shows that God used a true voice, since Moses used to find God there, available to speak to him, whenever he wanted to. And as I shall soon show, this voice by which the law was pronounced was the only true voice.

[11] I would suspect that the voice with which God called Samuel [25] was a true one, because in 1 Samuel 3:21 it is said: ויוסף יהוה להראה בשלה כי נגלה יהוה אל שמואל בשלו בדבר יהוה and God appeared again to Samuel in Shiloh because God revealed himself to Samuel in Shiloh by the word of God⁸—as if he were saying that God’s appearance to Samuel was nothing but God’s revealing himself to Samuel by his word, or was [30] nothing but Samuel’s hearing God speaking. But because we are forced to distinguish between the Prophecy of Moses and that of the rest of the Prophets, we must say that the voice Samuel heard was imaginary.⁹ We can also infer this from the fact that the voice resembled that of Eli, which Samuel was very accustomed to hearing, and so could also more readily imagine. For although God called him three times, he [III/18] thought that Eli had called him.¹⁰

[12] The voice Abimelech heard was imaginary. For Genesis 20:6 says: And God said to him in his dreams etc. So he was able to imagine the will of God, not while he was awake, but only in dreams (i.e., at that time when the imagination is naturally most suited to imagine [5] things which do not exist).

[13] In the opinion of certain Jews, God did not utter the words of the Decalogue.¹¹ They think, rather, that the Israelites only heard a sound, which did not utter any words, and that while this sound lasted, they perceived the Laws of the Decalogue with a pure mind. At one time I too was inclined to think this, because I saw that the words of [10] the Decalogue in Exodus are not the same as those of the Decalogue in Deuteronomy.¹² Since God spoke only once, it seems to follow from this [variation] that the Decalogue does not intend to teach God’s very words, but only their meaning.

[14] But unless we wish to do violence to Scripture, we absolutely must grant that the Israelites heard a true voice. For Scripture expressly [15] says, in Deuteronomy 5:4 פנים בפנים דבר יהוה עמכם וגו face to face God spoke to you etc.,¹³ that is, as two men usually communicate their concepts to one another, by means of their two bodies. So it seems more compatible with Scripture to think that God truly created some voice, by which he himself revealed the Decalogue.¹⁴ As for the explanation [20] of why the words and reasons of the one version differ from those of the other, see Chapter 8.¹⁵

[15] However, this doesn’t remove every difficulty. For it seems quite unreasonable to maintain that a created thing, dependent on God in the same way as any other, could express, in reality or in words, or [25] explain through his own person, the essence or existence of God, by saying in the first person, “I am the LORD your God, etc.”¹⁶ Of course, when someone says orally “I have understood,” no one thinks that the mouth of the man saying this has understood, but only that his mind has. Nevertheless, because the mouth is related to the nature of the man saying this, and also because he to whom it is said has previously [30] perceived the nature of the intellect, he easily understands the thought of the man speaking by comparison with his own. [16] But since these people knew nothing of God but his name, and wanted to speak to him to become certain of his Existence, I do not see how their request would be fulfilled by a creature who was no more related to God than any other creature, and who did not pertain to God’s nature, saying [III/19] “I am God.” What if God had twisted Moses’ lips to pronounce and say the same words, “I am God”? Would they have understood from that that God exists? What if they were the lips, not of Moses, but of some beast?¹⁷

[17] Next, Scripture seems to indicate, without qualification, that [5] God himself spoke—that was why he descended from heaven to the top of Mt. Sinai—and that the Jews not only heard him speaking, but that the Elders even saw him. See Exodus 24[:10–11].¹⁸

The Law revealed to Moses (to which nothing could be added and from which nothing could be taken away, and which was established as the legislation of their Country) never commanded us to believe that [10] God is incorporeal, or that he has no image or visible form, but only to believe that God exists, to trust in him, and to worship him alone. It did command them not to ascribe any image to him, and not to make any image of him. But this was to prevent them from departing from his worship. [18] For since they had not seen the image of God, they could not make an image which would resemble God, but only [15] one which would resemble some other created thing they had seen. So when they worshipped God through that image, they would think, not about God, but about the thing the image resembled. In the end they would bestow on that thing the honor and worship due to God.

But Scripture clearly indicates that God has a visible form and that it was granted to Moses, when he heard God speaking, to look upon [20] it, though he was permitted to see only the back.¹⁹ I do not doubt but what there is some mystery concealed here, which we shall discuss more fully later.²⁰ For now I shall continue to show the places where Scripture indicates the means God used to reveal his decrees to men.

[19] That Revelation [sometimes] happened by images alone is evident [25] from 1 Chronicles 21[:16] where God shows his anger to David through an Angel holding a sword in his hand. Similarly [God showed his anger] to Balaam [in the same way].²¹ Maimonides and others claim that this story, and likewise all those that tell the appearance of an angel (e.g., to Manoah [Judges 13:8–20], and to Abraham when he was intending to sacrifice his son [Genesis 22:11–18]), happened in a [30] dream,²² because a person could not see an Angel with his eyes open. But that’s nonsense, of course. Their only concern is to extort from Scripture Aristotelian rubbish and their own inventions. Nothing seems to me more ridiculous.

[20] On the other hand, when God revealed his future Dominion [35] to Joseph [Genesis 37:5–10], he used images which were not real, but depended only on the imagination of the Prophet.

[III/20] God used both images and words to reveal to Joshua that he would fight for the [Israelites]. He showed him an Angel with a sword [who came] as commander of the army [Joshua 5:13]. He had [previously] revealed this to him in words [Joshua 1:1–9, 3:7] and Joshua heard it [again] from the Angel [Joshua 5:14].

To Isaiah also, as we are told in ch. 6, it was represented through [5] visible forms that God’s providence was deserting the people: he imagined God thrice holy, seated on a throne on high, and the Israelites stained with the uncleanness of their sins, as if mired in a dung-heap, and indeed, very distant from God. By these [visible forms] he understood that the present state of the people was most wretched. On the [10] other hand, the people’s future calamities were revealed to him in words, pronounced as if by God.²³ I could add many other examples of this pattern from the Sacred Texts, if I did not think these matters were well enough known to everyone.

[21] But all these things are confirmed more clearly from the text of Numbers 12:[6–8], which reads:

[15] אם יהיה נביאכם יהוה במראה אליו אתודע בחלום אדבר בו לא כן עבדי משה וכו פה אל פה אדבר בו ומראה ולא בחידת ותמונת יהוה יביט if there is some Prophet of God among you, I shall reveal myself to him in ax vision

(that is, through visible forms and obscure symbols, for of the Prophecy of Moses he says that it is a vision without obscure symbols),

I shall speak to him in dreams

(that is, not with real words and a true voice).

[20] But to Moses (I do) not (reveal myself) in this way, etc.; to him I speak face to face, and in a vision, but not with enigmatic sayings; and he looks upon the image of God,²⁴

that is, he looks upon me as a companion and is not terrified when he speaks with me, as is maintained in Exodus 33:11. So there can be no doubt that the other Prophets did not hear a true voice. This is confirmed still further by Deuteronomy 34:10, where it is said that [25] ולא קם נביא עוד בישראל כמשה אשר ידעו יהוה פנים אל פנים there never existed (strictly, arose) in Israel a prophet like Moses, whom God knew face to face. This must be understood to refer to the voice alone. For not even Moses had ever seen God’s face (Exodus 33[:20]).²⁵

[30] [22] I do not find in the Sacred Texts any other means by which God communicated himself to men.²⁶ So, as we have shown above, we must not feign or admit any others. Of course, we clearly understand that God can communicate himself immediately to men, for he communicates his essence to our mind without using any corporeal means. Nevertheless, for a man to perceive by the mind alone things which [III/21] aren’t contained in the first foundations of our knowledge, and can’t be deduced from them, his mind would necessarily have to be more excellent than, and far superior to, the human mind.

[23] So I do not believe that anyone else has reached such perfection, [5] surpassing all others, except Christ, to whom the decisions of God, which lead men to salvation, were revealed immediately—without words or visions. So God revealed himself to the Apostles through Christ’s mind, as previously he had revealed himself to Moses by means of a heavenly voice. And therefore Christ’s voice, like the one Moses heard, [10] can be called the voice of God. And in this sense we can also say that God’s Wisdom, that is, a Wisdom surpassing human wisdom, assumed a human nature in Christ, and that Christ was the way to salvation.²⁷

[24] But I must warn here that I’m not speaking in any way about the things some of the Churches maintain about Christ. Not that I deny [15] them. For I readily confess that I don’t grasp them.²⁸ What I have just affirmed I conclude from Scripture itself. Nowhere have I read that God appeared or spoke to Christ, but rather that God was revealed to the Apostles through Christ, that he is the way to salvation [John 14:6], and finally, that the old law was imparted by an Angel, but not by God [20] immediately. So, if Moses spoke with God face to face, as a man usually does with a companion (i.e., by means of their two bodies), Christ, indeed, communicated with God mind to mind.

[25] We have asserted, then, that except for Christ no one has received God’s revelations without the aid of the imagination, i.e., without the [25] aid of words or images. So no one needed to have a more perfect mind in order to prophesy, but only a more vivid imagination. I shall show this more clearly in the following chapter.

Now the question is what the Sacred Texts understand by the Spirit of God when they say that the Prophets were infused²⁹ with the Spirit of God, or that the Prophets spoke by the Spirit of God. To investigate this, first we must ask about the meaning of the Hebrew term רוח [30] ruagh, which people commonly translate “Spirit.”³⁰

[26] In its proper sense the term רוח ruagh means wind, as is generally known. But it is quite often used to mean many other things, which are nevertheless derived from the proper sense. For it is taken to mean

1. breath, as in Psalm 135:17, אף אין יש רוח בפיהם there is no Spirit in their mouth.

[III/22] 2. air or breathing, as in 1 Samuel 30:12, ותשב רוחו אליו and his Spirit returned to him, i.e., he recovered his breath.

From this it is taken for

3. courage and strength, as in Joshua 2:11, ולא קמה עוד רוח באיש afterward there was no Spirit left in any man. Similarly, Ezekiel 2:2, ותבא בי רוח ותעמידני על רגלי and a Spirit (or force) came into me, which made me stand upon my feet.

From this it is taken for

[5] 4. excellence and ability, as in Job 32:8, אכן רוח היא באנוש certainly it is the Spirit itself in a man, that is, 'knowledge is not to be sought exclusively among the old, for I find now that it depends on the particular excellence and capacity of the man. So also Numbers 27:18, איש אשר רוח בו a man in whom there is Spirit.

[27] Next, it is taken for

[10] 5. the sentiment of the heart, as in Numbers 14:24, עקב היתה רוח אחרת עמו, since another Spirit was in him, that is, another sentiment of the heart, or another mind. Similarly, Proverbs 1:23, אביעה לכם רוחי I shall express my Spirit (i.e., mind) to you. And in this sense it is used to mean the will, or decision, the [15] appetite, and the impulse of the heart, as in Ezekiel 1:12, אל אשר יהיה שמה הרוח ללכת ילכו where there was a Spirit (or a will) to go, they went. Similarly, Isaiah 30:1, ולנסוך מסכה ולא רוחי for pouring out a libation, but not of my Spirit.³¹ And in Isaiah 29:10, כי נסך עליהם יהוה רוח תרדמה because God has poured out upon [20] them³² the Spirit (i.e., the appetite) of sleeping. And in Judges 8:3, אז רפתה רוחם מעליו then their Spirit (or impulse) was softened. Similarly in Proverbs 16:32, ומושל ברוחו מלוכד עיר he who rules his Spirit (or appetite) [is better] than he who takes a city. Similarly in Proverbs 25:28, איש אין מעצור לרוחו a man who does not restrain his Spirit. And Isaiah 33:11, רוחכם אש תאכלכם your Spirit is a [25] fire, which consumes you.

[28] Next, this term רוח, ruagh, insofar as it means heart, serves to express all the passions of the heart, and even its endowments, as רוח גבוהה a lofty Spirit, to mean pride; רוח שפלה a lowly Spirit, to mean humility; רוח רעה a bad Spirit, to mean hate and melancholy; רוח טובה a good [30] Spirit, to mean kindness; רוח קנאה a Spirit of Jealousy; רוח זנונים a Spirit (or appetite) of fornications; רוח חכמה עצה גבורה a Spirit of wisdom, counsel and strength, i.e., (for in Hebrew we use substantives more frequently than adjectives), a wise, prudent and strong mind, or the virtue of wisdom, counsel and strength; רוח חן a Spirit of benevolence, etc.

[III/23] 6. It means the mind itself or soul, as in Ecclesiastes 3:19: ורוח אחד לכל the Spirit (or soul) is the same in all,³³ and והרוח תשוב אל האלהים the Spirit returns to God.³⁴

7. Finally, it means the regions of the world (on account of the winds which blow from them), and also the sides of each thing, which face those regions [5] of the world. See Ezekiel 37:9, and 42:16, 17, 18, 19, etc.

[29] It should be noted now that a thing is related to God, and is said to be of God,

1. because it pertains to God’s nature, and is, as it were, a part of God, as when one says כח יהוה God’s power, עיני יהוה God’s eyes;

[10] 2. because it is in God’s 'power, and acts from God’s command, as in the sacred texts the heavens are called שמי יהוה the heavens of God, because they are the chariot and the dwelling place of God, Assyria is called the whip of God, and Nebuchadnezzar, the servant of God, etc.;

3. because it is dedicated to God, היכל יהוה temple of God, נזיר אלהים Nazarite of God, לחם יהוה bread of God, etc.

4. because it is imparted through the Prophets, but not revealed through the [15] natural light; for that reason, the Law of Moses is called the Law of God.

5. to express the thing in a superlative degree, הררי אל mountains of God, i.e., very high mountains, תרדמת יהוה a sleep of God, i.e., a very deep sleep; it is in this sense that Amos 4:11 is to be explained, when God himself speaks [20] thus: הפכתי אתכם כמהפכת אלהים את סדום ואת עמורה I have destroyed you, as God’s destruction (destroyed) Sodom and Gomorrah, i.e., as I did in that memorable destruction; for when God himself speaks, it cannot properly be explained otherwise. Even Solomon’s natural 'knowledge is called God’s 'knowledge, i.e., 'knowledge which is divine or beyond common 'knowledge.³⁵ Also, in the Psalms, [certain trees] are called ארזי אל, cedars of God, to express their [25] unusual size. And in 1 Samuel 11:7, to refer to a very great fear, it is said ויפל פחד יהוה על העם and the fear of God fell upon the people.

[30] And in this sense, the Jews used to refer to God everything which surpassed their power of understanding, and whose natural causes they [30] did not then know.³⁶ So, a storm was called גערת יהוה, God’s rebuke, and thunder and lightning were called God’s arrows. For they thought that God kept the winds shut up in caves, which they called God’s treasuries. Their difference from the Pagans was just that they believed it was God, not Aeolus, who was the ruler of the winds.

That’s also why they called miracles works of God, i.e., works to be [III/24] astonished at. For of course, all natural things are God’s works, and exist and act only through the divine power. It’s in this sense that the Psalmist calls the miracles of Egypt God’s powers, because in a situation of extreme danger they opened up the way to deliverance for the Hebrews, who were expecting nothing like them, and hence were amazed by them.

[5] [31] So when unusual works of nature are called works of God, and trees of unusual size are called trees of God, it is no wonder that in Genesis the strongest men, and those of great stature, are called sons of God, even though they are immoral robbers and libertines.³⁷ Hence, [10] the ancients—not only the Jews, but even the Pagans—used to refer to God absolutely everything in which one man surpassed the others. For when the Pharaoh heard Joseph’s interpretation of his dream, he said that the mind of the Gods³⁸ was in him; and again, Nebuchadnezzar said to Daniel that he had the mind of the Holy Gods.³⁹ Furthermore, nothing is more frequent among the Latins. For they say that things which have been made ingeniously have been fashioned by a divine [15] hand. If anyone wished to translate this into Hebrew, he would have to say fashioned by the hand of God, as Hebraists well know.

[32] From these observations, we can easily understand and explain those Passages in Scripture which mention the Spirit of God. In certain places רוח אלהים, the Spirit of God, and רוח יהוה, the Spirit of Yahweh, [20] mean nothing other than a wind which is very violent, very dry and destructive, as in Isaiah 40:7, רוח יהוה נושבה בו the wind of Yahweh blew on it, i.e., a very dry and destructive wind. Similarly in Genesis 1:2, and a wind of God (or a very strong wind) was moving over the water.

[33] Next, [ruagh Elohim or ruagh Yahweh] means a great heart. For [25] the Sacred Texts call Gideon’s heart, and Samson’s, רוח יהוה, the Spirit of God, i.e., a very daring heart, ready for anything.⁴⁰ Similarly, any extraordinary virtue or force is called רוח יהוה, the Spirit or virtue of God, as in Exodus 31:3, ואמלא אותו רוח אלהים and I shall fill him (viz., Bezalel) with the Spirit of God, i.e., as Scripture itself explains, with understanding [30] and skill beyond the ordinary lot of men. So in Isaiah 11:2, ונחה עליו רוח יהוה and the Spirit of God shall rest upon him, i.e., as the Prophet himself declares, explaining it afterward in detail (in a manner very commonly used in the Sacred Texts): the virtues of wisdom, counsel, strength, etc. So also Saul’s melancholy is called רוח אלהים רעה, an evil Spirit of God, i.e., [III/25] a very deep melancholy.⁴¹ For Saul’s servants, who called his melancholy a melancholy of God, urged him to call a musician to him, who would revive his spirits by playing the lyre. This shows that by a melancholy of God they understood a natural melancholy.

[5] [34] Next, רוח יהוה, the Spirit of God, means the mind itself of man, as in Job 27:3, ורוח אלה באפי and the Spirit of God is in my nostrils, alluding to what is said in Genesis [2:7], that God breathed the breath of life into the nostrils of man. So Ezekiel, prophesying to the dead, says (37:14), ונתתי רוחי בכם וחייתם and I shall give my Spirit to you and you shall live, i.e., [10] I shall restore life to you. And in this sense it is said in Job 34:14, אם ישים אליו לבו רוחו ונשמתו אליו יאסוף if he (viz., God) wishes, he will gather his Spirit (i.e., the mind which he gave us) and his breath back to himself. We must understand Genesis 6:3 in the same way: לא ידון רוחי באדם לעולם [15] בשגם הוא בשר my Spirit shall not reason (or shall not decide) in man for ever, since he is flesh, i.e., after this man shall act from the decisions of the flesh, and not those of the mind, which I gave him to discern the good. So also Psalm 51:12–13 [= KJV, RSV 10–11]: לב טהור ברא לי אלהים ורוח נכון חדש בקרבי : אל תשליכני מלפניך ורוח קדשך אל תקח ממני create a pure [20] heart in me, O God, and renew in me an appropriate (or moderate) Spirit (i.e., appetite); do not cast me away from your sight, nor take the mind of your holiness away from me. Because sins were believed to arise only from the flesh—the mind recommending only the good—[the Psalmist] asks for God’s aid against the appetite of the flesh, but prays only that the [25] mind the Holy God gave him be preserved by God.

[35] Now, because the common people are weak, Scripture usually depicts God as being like a man, and attributes to God a mind, a heart, affects of the heart—even a body and breath. As a result, the Sacred Texts often use רוח יהוה the Spirit of God, for the mind, i.e., the heart, [30] affect, force, and breath of the mouth, of God. So Isaiah 40:13 says: מי תכן את רוה יהוח who has directed the Spirit (or mind) of God? i.e., who, besides God himself, has determined God’s mind to will something? And in Isaiah 63:10, והמה מרו ועצבו את רוח קדשו and they affected the Spirit of his holiness with bitterness and sadness.

[36] That’s how it happens that [the phrase רוח יהוה] is customarily used for the Law of Moses, because it explains, as it were, the mind of [III/26] God—as Isaiah himself says (in 63:11): איה השם בקרבו את רוח קדשו where is he who put the Spirit of his holiness in the midst of them?, i.e., the Law of Moses. This is clear from the whole context of the utterance. Similarly in Nehemiah 9:20, ורוחך הטובה נתת להשכילם and you have given them [5] your good Spirit, or mind, to make them understand. For he is speaking of the time of the Law, and he alludes also to Deuteronomy 4:6, where Moses says: since it (viz. the Law) is your 'knowledge and wisdom, etc. So also in Psalms 143:10, רוחך טובה תנחני בארץ משור your good mind will lead me into a level land, i.e., your mind, revealed to us, will lead me into [10] the right path.

[37] The Spirit of God also means, as we have said, God’s breath, which is also improperly attributed to God in Scripture, just as a mind, heart, and a body are.⁴² See, for example, Psalm 33:6.

Next, [the Spirit of God also means] God’s power, force, or virtue, as in Job 33:4, רוח אל עשתני the Spirit of God made me, i.e., the virtue, [15] or power of God, or, if you prefer, God’s decree. For the Psalmist, speaking poetically, also says [in Psalms 33:6] by the command of God were the heavens made, and all the host of them by the Spirit, or breath, of his mouth, i.e., by his decree, pronounced as if in one breath. Similarly, in Psalms 139:7, אנה אלך מרוחך ואנה מפניך אברח where shall I go (that I [20] may be) outside your Spirit, or where shall I flee (that I may be) out of your sight. That is (as is evident from the verses in which the Psalmist himself proceeds to amplify this), where can I go that I may be outside your power and presence?

[38] Finally, the Sacred Texts also use רוח יהוה the Spirit of God to express God’s affects of the heart, such as his kindness and compassion, [25] as in Micah 2:7, הקצר רוח יהוה is the Spirit of God, i.e., God’s compassion, restricted? are these (cruel) works his? Similarly, in Zechariah 4:6, לא בחיל ולא בכח כי אם ברוחי not by arms, not by force, but only by my Spirit, i.e., only by my compassion. And in this sense I think we must understand [30] the same Prophet’s 7:12, ולבם שמו שמיר משמוע את התורה ואת הדברים אשר שלח יהוה ברוחו ביד הנביאים הראשונים and they made their hearts hard,⁴³ lest they should obey the Law and the commandments which God sent from his Spirit (i.e., from his compassion) through the first Prophets. In this sense also Haggai says (2:5): ורוחי עומדת בתוככם אל תיראו and my Spirit (or my grace) remains among you; fear not.

[III/27] [39] As for Isaiah 48:16, where it is said ועתה יהוה אלהים שלחני ורוחו but now the LORD God sent me, and his Spirit, we can understand this to refer either to God’s heart, and compassion, or to his mind, revealed in the Law. For Isaiah says: from the beginning (i.e., when I first came to you, [5] to preach God’s anger to you, and his judgment against you), I have not spoken in secret, from the time [his judgment] was (pronounced), I was there (as he himself attests in ch. 7), but now I am a joyful messenger, sent by God’s compassion, to sing your restoration. Alternatively, as I have said, we can also understand [God’s Spirit] to refer to God’s mind, [10] revealed in the Law, i.e., that he comes now to warn them, according to the command of the Law, viz. Leviticus 19:17. So he warns them in the same conditions and in the same way as Moses used to. And finally, as Moses also did, he ends by preaching their restoration. Nevertheless, the first explanation seems to me more harmonious.

[15] [40] Let us come back, finally, to the point we have been aiming at. From all these [examples] these phrases of Scripture become clear: the Spirit of God was in the Prophet, God infused his Spirit into men, men were filled with the Spirit of God, and with the Holy Spirit, etc. For they mean nothing other than that the Prophets had a singular virtue, [20] beyond what is ordinary,⁴⁴** that they cultivated piety with exceptional constancy of heart, and that they perceived God’s mind, or, judgment. [41] For we have shown that in Hebrew Spirit means both the mind and its judgment, and that for this reason the Law itself, because it made known God’s mind, could also be called God’s Spirit or mind. [25] That’s why the imagination of the Prophets could, with equal right, also be called the mind of God, insofar as God’s decrees were revealed through it, and the Prophets could be said to have had the mind of God. And although the mind of God and his eternal judgments are inscribed in our minds also, and consequently, we too perceive the mind of God (if I may speak with Scripture), nevertheless, because [30] natural knowledge is common to all, men do not value it so highly, as we have already said.⁴⁵ This is particularly true of the Hebrews, who used to boast that they were superior to all others, indeed, who were accustomed to disdain all others, and hence, to disdain the 'knowledge common to all.

[42] Finally, the Prophets were said to have the Spirit of God because men were ignorant of the causes of Prophetic knowledge, were amazed by it, and on that account, were accustomed to refer it to God—as they [III/28] did all other wonders—and to call it God’s knowledge.

[43] We can now affirm, then, without any reservation, that the Prophets perceived God’s revelations only with the aid of the imagination, i.e., by the mediation of words or of images; these [words and [5] images] may have been either true or imaginary.⁴⁶ For since we find no other means in Scripture except these, we’re not permitted to feign any others, as we have already shown.

[44] By what laws of nature was this [revelation] made? I confess I don’t know. I could say, as others do, that it was made by the power of God. But then it would look as though I was just babbling. That [10] would be like trying to explain the form of a singular thing by some transcendental term. For all things are made through the power of God. Indeed, because the power of Nature is just God’s power itself,⁴⁷ insofar as we’re ignorant of natural causes, we certainly don’t understand God’s power. So it’s foolish to fall back on that power of God [15] when we don’t know the natural cause of a thing, i.e., when we don’t know God’s power itself. But there’s no need now for us to know the cause of Prophetic knowledge. For as I’ve already indicated, here we’re just trying to learn what Scripture teaches, so that we can draw our conclusions from those teachings as we would draw conclusions from the data of nature.⁴⁸ We’re not in the least concerned with the causes [20] of the teachings.

[45] Since the Prophets perceived God’s revelations with the aid of the imagination, there is no doubt that they were able to perceive many things beyond the limits of the intellect. For we can compose many more ideas from words and images than we can by using only [25] the principles and notions on which our whole natural knowledge is constructed.

[46] So now it’s clear why the Prophets perceived and taught almost everything in metaphors and enigmatic sayings, and expressed all spiritual things corporeally. For all these things agree more with the nature of the imagination. And now we won’t wonder why Scripture and the [30] Prophets speak so improperly and obscurely concerning the Spirit of God, or his mind, as in Numbers 11:17 and 1 Kings 22:2,⁴⁹ or why Micaiah saw God sitting [on a throne, in 1 Kings 22:19], while Daniel saw him as an old man clothed in white garments [Daniel 7:9], and Ezekiel saw him as a fire;⁵⁰ or why those who were with Christ saw the Holy Spirit descending like a dove,⁵¹ but the Apostles saw it as fiery [III/29] tongues [Acts 2:3], and finally why Paul, when he was first converted, saw a great light [Acts 9:3]. For all these [visions] agree completely with the common ways of imagining God and Spirits.

[47] Finally, since the imagination is random and inconstant, [we also understand now why] Prophecy did not stay long with the Prophets, and also was not frequent, but very rare. I.e., it happened to very few [5] men, and even to them, very rarely.

[48] As a result, we’re now forced to ask how the Prophets could have come to be certain of things they perceived only through the imagination, and not from certain principles of the mind.⁵² But whatever we can say about this, we must seek from Scripture. As we have already said, we do not have true 'knowledge of this matter, or we cannot [10] explain it through its first causes. What Scripture teaches concerning the certainty of the Prophets, I shall show in the following chapter, where I have decided to treat of the Prophets.

1. **[ADN. I] If the third letter of the root of a word is quiescent, it is usually omitted and in its place the second letter of the stem is doubled. For example, omitting the quiescent ה from קלה we get קולל, and from that קול, and from נבא [to prophesy] comes נובב, from which we get ניב שפתים [the fruit of the lips] utterance or speech. Thus בזא becomes בזז or בוז (and from שגה comes שגג ,משגה, and המה ;שוג becomes המם; and בלה becomes בלל and בלעל). Therefore, R. Solomon Jarghi [Rashi] has interpreted this word נבא best; but Ibn Ezra, who did not know the Hebrew language so exactly, was mistaken in his criticism of him. Moreover, it should be noted that the term נבואה, prophecy, is quite general, and covers every kind of prophesying, whereas the other terms are more specific and apply chiefly to this or that kind of prophesying. I believe this is well-known to the learned. [Rashi glossed נביא as interpreter. See his commentary on Exod. 7:1, in Rashi 1960, II, 29. Ibn Ezra understood נביא as spokesman. Spinoza had the commentaries of both authors available to him in Buxtorf’s Bible.]

2. It’s worth noting that in contexts like this Spinoza’s Latin uses a pronoun which implies neither gender nor even personality. In principle ejus could be rendered either “his,” “her,” or “its.” In English we must either adopt an ugly neologism or choose one of these pronouns, which makes Spinoza sound more specific than he is. How much should we make of this? Not too much, I think. The next word in this phrase, “decrees,” certainly suggests a personal agent. And even traditional theologians who use the masculine pronoun in relation to God, do not normally think of God as literally having a gender. More significant is Spinoza’s talk of decrees, which reflects a willingness to express his thought in a way he knows may mislead some readers into thinking that he is closer to the tradition than he really is.

3. Gebhardt notes that Meyer expresses a similar view (Meyer 1666, 43, = v, 7). ALM compare Aquinas ST I, qu. 12, art. 11, ad 3.

4. **[ADN. II] That is, interpreters of God. For an interpreter of God is one who interprets God’s decrees to others to whom they have not been revealed, and who, in embracing them, rely only on the authority of the prophet. But if the men who listened to prophets became prophets, as those who listen to philosophers become philosophers, then the prophet would not be an interpreter of the divine decrees, since his hearers would rely, not on the testimony and authority of the prophet, but on revelation itself, and internal testimony. Thus the sovereign powers are the interpreters of the law of their state, because the laws they pass are preserved only by their authority and depend only on their testimony. [This note, as I have translated it, is essentially the version we have in the copy of the TTP Spinoza gave Jacob Klefmann. See the Editorial Preface to the TTP, pp. 60–63, for a discussion of the sources for these notes. We have four other sources for the note, which differ from this version mainly in small ways. The most interesting variation, found in all the other sources, has, instead of the phrase underlined above: “and their certainty depends only on the authority of the prophet and the faith they have in him.” The thought is reminiscent of Hobbes’ Leviathan vii, 7. I propose that since the other four versions are later than the Klefmann version, their consistency suggests that after writing notes in the Klefmann volume, Spinoza decided that this formula expressed his thought more clearly.]

5. Whether prophecy had actually ceased at some point in history has been a matter of dispute in both the Jewish and the Christian traditions. Certainly claims to prophecy did not cease, as the case of Sabbatai Zevi illustrates. See the note on Zevi in Letter 33, IV/178/26, and Goldish 2004. Some seventeenth-century Christian sects also claimed a contemporary power of prophecy (see Kolakowski 1969). These included the Collegiants, with whom Spinoza otherwise had much in common (cf. Nadler 1999, 139–41). But because of the difficulty of distinguishing true prophets from false, and the tendency of prophecy to challenge the religious status quo, religious institutions often opposed them. For a helpful discussion, see Sommer 1996. Talmudic passages on the disappearance of prophecy include Sanhedrin 11a and Sota 48b. Maimonides’ view seems to be that prophecy was taken away during the exile and will be restored when the Messiah comes. Cf. Guide II, 36.

6. For this view Spinoza could have cited the authority of Maimonides’ Guide II, 48. Cf. below, §§30–31. ALM also note Spinoza’s Hebrew Grammar, ch. 12: “The Hebrews are accustomed to refer an action to its principal cause, which brings it about either that an action is done by something/someone, or that a thing fulfills its function” (I/341/18).

7. Insofar as Spinoza emphasizes the importance of the imagination in prophecy, his view is similar to that of Maimonides. Cf. the Guide II, 32–48. Maimonides’ view is that prophecy normally requires intellectual perfection (through study of the speculative sciences), moral perfection (through the suppression of improper desires), and perfection of the imagination. But he does make an exception for Moses, whose prophecy is supposed to have involved only the intellect, not the imagination. See particularly Guide II, 36. The treatment of prophecy in Aquinas ST II-II, qu. 171–74, is quite different. Spinoza’s disagreements with Maimonides will emerge gradually, beginning in i, 43.

8. The first occurrence of “to Samuel” in this quote is lacking in the Hebrew. For the use of the divine name here, see the Glossary entry GOD.

9. Presumably we are forced to this interpretation by the passage from Num. 12:6–8, to be cited at III/20/13. But Numbers forces that interpretation only if we assume that 1 Samuel must be consistent with Numbers. The Preface has warned us (in §19) that this assumption is not safe.

10. See 1 Sam. 3:4–9. Cf. Maimonides Guide II, 44.

11. Maimonides Guide II, 33, argues that at Mount Sinai Moses alone heard God’s words. All the people heard was a great voice, not words. Halevi 1964, I, 87, argues that they heard the words. There are reasons to think that all the people heard the first two commandments, but that Moses alone heard the rest, and then conveyed them to the people. See Kugel 2007, 251–53.

12. This rare autobiographical remark may give us insight into the kinds of concern which led to Spinoza’s break with the synagogue. Manasseh’s Conciliator (I, 170–75) discusses several differences between the two accounts of the Decalogue (in Exod. 20:1–17 and Deut. 5:1–21). Some may strike modern readers as rather minor (unless they are committed to a strong position about the historical accuracy of the two accounts). The most significant difference, probably, occurs in the explanation of the commandment regarding the Sabbath. Exodus instructs the Jews not to labor on the Sabbath in remembrance of God’s having rested on the seventh day of creation. Deuteronomy commands them not to labor on the Sabbath in remembrance of God’s freeing them from bondage in the land of Egypt. Spinoza will return to this topic at the end of viii, 55.

13. These are Moses’ words to the people, so the pronoun, both in the Hebrew and in Spinoza’s Latin, is plural. Prima facie this conflicts with Num. 12:6–8, discussed below, in §21.

14. This was the opinion of Maimonides (Guide II, 33).

15. At the end of Ch. viii (§§55–58) and at the beginning of Ch. ix (§§1–3) Spinoza will return to this topic, explaining that the variations between the two versions of the Decalogue resulted from the history of the composition of the text. Here he is content merely to catalogue some of the difficulties which face more traditional interpreters.

16. Spinoza writes ego sum Jehova Deus tuus. In general I prefer to use “Yahweh” when Spinoza writes Jehova. (See the Glossary entry GOD, YAHWEH.) But in this instance it seemed best to use the language which has been traditional in English versions of the passages Spinoza is quoting (Exod. 20:2 and Deut. 5:6).

17. This was a problem which concerned Spinoza early in his career. Cf. KV II, xxiv, 10. ALM discuss a parallel passage in Balling’s Het licht op den kandelaar, p. 8. For a modern edition of this work, see Klever 1988.

18. Discussed in Manasseh 1842/1972, I, 186–89, because of its apparent conflict with Exod. 33:20.

19. See Exod. 33:20–23. Discussed in Manasseh 1842/1972, I, 201–2, because of its apparent conflict with Exod. 33:11 and Num. 12:8.

20. ALM suggest that Spinoza has in mind the discussion (in Ch. xv) of Alfakhar, who held that because Scripture teaches clearly that God is incorporeal, passages apparently to the contrary must be interpreted metaphorically. But he may also be referring to the discussion of the inadequacy of Moses’ conception of God in ii, 41–46.

21. See Num. 22:22–35. Since Balaam not only saw the angel, but heard him speak, this seems better as an example of a revelation through both words and visible forms.

22. See Maimonides Guide II, 41–42.

23. tanquam a Deo prolatis. Tanquam need not imply that God did not in fact pronounce the words. But the beginning of the next paragraph seems to favor a counterfactual reading.

24. Spinoza will return to this passage in viii, 15–16, where he will cite it as one among many indicating that the true author of the Pentateuch was not Moses, but someone writing at a much later date. HCSB observes that this passage “probably reflects the issues of a later day, when groups who traced their authority to Moses were in a power struggle with groups who traced their authority to Miriam or Aaron.” For a fuller discussion, see Levine 1993, 328–31.

25. Though as Spinoza has noted above (§18), Moses was permitted to see God’s back. On Moses’ unique relationship to God, see Maimonides Guide II, 35; Aquinas ST IIa IIae, qu. 174, art. 4; and Hobbes, Leviathan xxxvi, 11.

26. Spinoza will return to this conclusion at i, 43, and again invoke his principle that we must not ascribe to Scripture doctrines which we do not find clearly stated there. The intervening sections seem intended to deflate the idea of divine inspiration.

27. Since Latin has no articles, the text does not explicitly say that Christ is the way to salvation, but I think no harm is done by supplying the definite article (as Glazemaker did), provided we understand this statement in a way which does not conflict with Spinoza’s fundamental pluralism: not that we can achieve salvation only by believing that the son of God atoned for the sins of mankind through his death on the cross, but that we achieve salvation by living according to Jesus’ central moral teachings: to love God and our neighbors, and to practice justice. The former interpretation would seem to be excluded by v, 46; xv, 44; xvi, 57; and Letters 73 and 76. In Curley 2010, I argued that Spinoza was a pluralist (in the sense of believing that many religions offer a viable path to salvation). In TP ii, 6 Spinoza rejects the doctrine of original sin, a key support for the view that salvation is based on faith in Christ, and not on obedience to the laws of God.

28. In Letter 71 (IV/304/14ff.) Oldenburg reported that some readers of the TTP felt that he was concealing his opinion concerning Jesus Christ, “the Redeemer of the World and only Mediator for men.” When Oldenburg asked for clarification of Spinoza’s views, his response (Letter 73, IV/309/2) went beyond saying merely that he did not understand what certain churches mean when they say that God assumed a human nature in Christ. He said he found that doctrine absurd and contradictory. For further discussion, see Matheron 1971, 256–58.

29. Cf. Hobbes, Leviathan ii, 9.

30. Spinoza discusses the scriptural meaning of ruagh in §§26–28. In §§29–31 he proceeds to discuss what it means in Scripture when something is said to be “of God.” Finally, in §§32–39, he concludes by applying the results of this analysis to the complex expressions ruagh Elohim or ruagh Yahweh. The Latin term Spinoza uses for ruagh, Spiritus, has much of the ambiguity of ruagh. Its English cognate does not have so wide a range of meanings. Maimonides had discussed the ambiguity of ruagh in his Guide I, 40.

31. Spinoza’s translation here is more literal than is common in more recent versions. The pouring of a libation was a common ceremony at the conclusion of alliances. Hence, the NRSV translation has “who make an alliance, but against my will.”

32. Spinoza’s Hebrew text reads עליהם upon them, whereas the Masoretic text, which is the basis for most translations, reads עליכם upon you (pl.).

33. I.e. (as the biblical context makes clear): men and animals share the same fate, death. The fundamental similarity between humans and other animals was also a theme in Uriel da Costa’s denial of immortality. Cf. Gebhardt 1922, 66; Osier 1983, 102.

34. Spinoza does not identify the passage from which this quotation comes (Eccles. 12:7), but it, along with Eccles. 3:19, was prominent in the debates about immortality. In Manasseh 1842/1972 (II, 312–15) Manasseh ben Israel had also juxtaposed these two verses, taking 12:17 to be a proof of the immortality of the soul, and 3:19 to be an “apparently contradictory” verse which required explanation. These are passages we would expect to have been of particular interest to the young Spinoza at the time of his departure from the synagogue, given what Lucas and Revah tell us about his religious doubts (Lucas 1927, 45–46; Revah 1959, 18, 36). See also x, 45; Nadler 2001; and Kaplan 1989.

35. Referring, perhaps, to 1 Kings 3:28.

36. Earlier, in §8, Spinoza’s view seemed to be that it was characteristic of the Jews to refer everything to God, even those common things whose natural causes they knew.

37. Probably a reference to Gen. 6:2, “the sons of God saw the daughters of men, that they were fair; and they took them wives, whomsoever they chose.” Nachmanides, whose interpretation Spinoza perhaps follows, took this to mean that they took their wives by force, even from among those who were already married to others.

38. mentem deorum. A reference to Gen. 41:38, where the Hebrew is רוח אלהים ruagh Elohim, usually translated “spirit of God.” Though plural in form, אלהים (Elohim), is often treated as a singular term. But since Spinoza emphasizes that the Pharaoh was a pagan, he presumably did not want to make him sound like a monotheist.

39. A reference to Dan. 4:8–9. The Hebrew is ruagh Elohin, but in this case biblical translators typically treat Elohin as plural.

40. For example, in Judg. 6:34; 14:6, 19; 15:14 (ALM).

41. The reference is to 1 Sam. 18:10. Modern commentators are apt to see Saul as suffering from some form of mental illness, perhaps manic depression. Cf. Anchor Samuel I, 280–81. In antiquity such illnesses were regularly attributed to the agency of evil spirits. SC observes here that “to the Hebraic mind there was no power of evil independent of and opposed to God. Good and evil equally were in the power of God, and therefore the spirit which afflicted Saul is described as sent by Him.”

42. Note that Spinoza here treats even attributing a mind to God as a form of anthropomorphism. Bennett observes that though few theologians would credit God with having breath or a body, “most would say God has or is a mind.”

43. Following Akkerman, who reads cautem for cautum.

44. **[ADN. III] Although certain men have certain things nature does not impart to others, nevertheless, they are not said to exceed human nature unless the things they have in this singular way are such that they cannot be perceived from the definition of human nature. E.g., the size of a giant is rare, but nevertheless human. To compose poems extemporaneously is given to very few, and nevertheless, it is human [Saint-Glain: and some do it easily]. Similarly, some may, with their eyes open, imagine certain things so vividly that it’s as if they had those things before them. But if there were someone who had another means of perceiving, and other foundations of knowledge, he would surely transcend the limits of human nature.

45. A reference to i, 2.

46. Cf. i, 9, and the annotation there.

47. A recurring and important theme in the TTP. Cf. iii, 9; vi, 9; and xvi, 3. ALM trace it to a passage in Pliny, Natural History II, v, 7. See also TP ii, 2.

48. Here Spinoza anticipates the fuller statement of his methodology which he will make in vii, 6–7.

49. So Gebhardt, ALM, and Glazemaker (among others) give the citation. But it’s hard to see why 1 Kings 22:2 would be apt. ALM’s annotation suggests (more plausibly) that Spinoza may have intended to refer to 1 Kings 22:20–23, where God is said to put a lying spirit into the mouths of Ahab’s prophets (a passage Spinoza will cite in ii, 7–9).

50. Cf. Ezek. 1:4. SC notes (regarding Ezekiel, xii) that Ezekiel’s description of his vision in his first chapter provided a focal point for Jewish mysticism, “from its beginning down to the later study of the Kabbalah.” See Maimonides Guide III, introduction through ch. vii.

51. In John 1:32 this vision is attributed to John the Baptist, but in Matt. 3:16, to Jesus himself.

52. Note that the doubt Spinoza raises here tends to undermine the chapter’s starting point, which had defined prophecy as certain knowledge (i, 1).

[III/29] CHAPTER II

Of the Prophets

[1] From the preceding chapter it follows (as we’ve already indicated) that the Prophets were not endowed with a more perfect mind, but rather with a power of imagining unusually vividly. The Scriptural narratives also teach this amply. It’s clear that Solomon excelled all others in [20] wisdom, but not in the gift of Prophecy. Similarly, those outstandingly wise men, Heman, Darda, and Calcol, were not Prophets. On the other hand, countryfolk, without any education, and even simple women, like Hagar, Abraham’s handmaid, were granted the gift of Prophecy.¹ This [25] also agrees with both experience and reason. For those who have the most powerful imaginations are less able to grasp things by pure intellect. On the other hand, those who have more powerful intellects, and who cultivate them most, have a more moderate power of imagining, and have it more under their 'power. They rein in their imagination, as it were, lest it be confused with the intellect.

[2] So those who eagerly search the Prophetic books for wisdom, and [30] knowledge of both natural and spiritual matters, go completely astray. Since the times, Philosophy and, finally, the subject itself demand it, I have decided to show this fully here. I care little for the snarls of [III/30] the superstitious, who hate no one more than those who cultivate true 'knowledge and true life. Sadly, things have come to this: people who openly confess that they have no idea of God, and that they know God only through created things (whose causes they are ignorant of), do not blush to accuse Philosophers of Atheism.²

[5] [3] To show, in an orderly way, [that the books of the Prophets are not a source of wisdom and the knowledge of spiritual and natural matters], I shall show that the Prophecies varied, not only with the imagination and bodily temperament of each Prophet, but also with the opinions they were steeped in. So Prophecy never made the Prophets more learned. Soon I shall explain this more fully; but first I must treat [10] the certainty of the Prophets, both because it concerns the theme of this chapter, but also because it will help in some measure to get to the conclusion we intend to demonstrate.

[4] Unlike a clear and distinct idea, a simple imagination does not, by its nature, involve certainty. So to be able to be certain of things we [15] imagine, we must add something to the imagination—viz., reasoning.³ It follows that, by itself, Prophecy cannot involve certainty. As we’ve shown, it depended only on the imagination. So the Prophets were not certain about God’s revelation by the revelation itself, but by some sign.

[20] Genesis 15:8—where Abraham asked for a sign after he had heard God’s promise—makes this evident. He trusted God, of course, and did not ask for a sign so as to have faith in God. He asked for a sign to know that it was God who had made this promise to him.

[5] Judges 6:17 establishes the same point even more clearly. There Gideon says to God, ועשית לי אות שאתה מדבר עמי make a sign for me [25] (that I may know) that you are speaking with me. Also [in Exodus 3:12] God says to Moses, וזה לך האות כי אנכי שלחתיך and (let) this (be) a sign to you, that I sent you. And Hezekiah, who had known for some time that Isaiah was a Prophet, asked for a sign of the Prophecy predicting his [return to] health [Isaiah 38:1–8]. This shows that the Prophets [30] always had some sign by which they became certain of the things they imagined Prophetically. That’s why Moses warns [the Jews] to seek a sign from [anyone claiming to be] a Prophet, viz. the outcome of some future event (Deuteronomy 18:22). [6] In this respect, then, Prophecy is inferior to natural knowledge, which needs no sign, but of its own nature involves certainty.

Indeed, this Prophetic certainty was not mathematical, but only [III/31] moral, as is evident from Scripture itself. For in Deuteronomy 13[:2] Moses warns that any Prophet who wants to teach new Gods should be condemned to death, even though he confirms his teaching with signs and miracles. For as Moses himself goes on to say, God also uses [5] signs and miracles to test the people. [7] And Christ too gave this same warning to his Disciples, as Matthew 24:24 shows.⁴ In fact, Ezekiel clearly teaches (14:9) that God sometimes deceives men with false revelations.⁵ For he says, והנביא כי יפותה ודבר דבר אני יהוה פתיתי את הנביא ההוא and when a Prophet (i.e., a false one) is led astray and has spoken a word, [10] it is I, God, who have led that Prophet astray. Micaiah also testifies to this concerning the Prophets of Ahab (see 1 Kings 22:23).

[8] Although this seems to show that Prophecy and revelation are very doubtful, still, they do, as we have said, have a great deal of certainty. [15] For God never deceives the pious and the elect, but as that ancient proverb says,⁶ and as the story of Abigail and her speech show, God uses the pious as instruments of his piety, and the impious as executors [20] and means of his anger. [9] The case of Micaiah, which we have just cited, also establishes this most clearly. For although God had decided to deceive Ahab through Prophets, nevertheless he used only false Prophets. To the pious [Prophet] he revealed the thing as it was, and he did not prohibit him from predicting the truth.⁷

Nevertheless, as I have said, the Prophet’s certainty was only moral, because no one can justify himself before God, or boast that he is the [25] instrument of God’s piety. Scripture teaches this, and the thing itself is plain. For God’s anger seduced David into numbering the people, though Scripture testifies abundantly to his piety.⁸

[10] The whole of Prophetic certainty, therefore, is founded on these three things:

1) That the Prophets imagined the things revealed to them very vividly, in the way we are usually affected by objects when we are awake;

[30] 2) That there was a Sign;

3) And finally—this is the chief thing—that they had a heart inclined only to the right and the good.

And although Scripture does not always mention a Sign, still, we must believe that the Prophets always had a Sign. For as many have previously noted, Scripture is not in the habit of always narrating all the conditions and circumstances; instead, it sometimes presupposes that they are known.

[III/32] [11] Furthermore, we can concede that the Prophets who prophesied nothing new, but only what was contained in the Law of Moses, did not need a sign, because they were confirmed by the Law. E.g., the Prophecy of Jeremiah concerning the destruction of Jerusalem was confirmed by the Prophecies of the rest of the prophets, and by the [5] threats of the Law. So it did not need a sign. But Hananiah, contrary to all the Prophets, prophesied a speedy restoration of the city. So he needed a sign. Without one he would have had to doubt his Prophecy until the occurrence of the thing he predicted confirmed his Prophecy. See Jeremiah 28:9.⁹

[10] [12] Because the certainty the Prophets had from signs was not mathematical—i.e., a certainty which follows from the necessity of the perception of the thing perceived or seen—but only moral, and the signs were given only to persuade the Prophet, it follows that the signs were given according to the opinions and capacity of the Prophet. So a sign [15] which would render one Prophet certain of his Prophecy could not at all convince another, who was steeped in different opinions. That’s why the signs varied in each Prophet.

[13] Similarly, the revelation itself varied in each Prophet, as we have said [ii, 3], according to the disposition of his bodily temperament, according to the disposition of his imagination, and according to the [20] opinions he had previously embraced.

First, the revelation varied according to his temperament in this way: if the Prophet was cheerful, what was revealed to him were victories, peace, and the things which move men to joy; for such men usually imagine these things more frequently. On the other hand, if the Prophet was sad, wars, punishments, and all kinds of evil were revealed to him. [25] And as the Prophet was compassionate, calm, prone to anger, severe, etc., he was more ready for one kind of revelation than for another.¹⁰

[14] Secondly, the revelation varied according to the disposition of his imagination: if the Prophet was refined, he perceived the mind of God in a refined style; if he was confused, he perceived it confusedly. It varied similarly in the revelations represented through images. If the Prophet [30] was a rustic, bulls, cows, and the like, were represented to him; if he was a soldier, generals and armies; if he was a courtier, the royal throne and things of that kind.¹¹

[15] Finally, Prophecy varied according to differences in the opinions of the Prophets. To the Magi, who believed in the trifles of astrology, Christ’s birth was revealed through the imagination of a star rising [III/33] in the east (see Matthew 2). To Nebuchadnezzar’s soothsayers the destruction of Jerusalem was revealed in the entrails of animals (see Ezekiel 21:26).¹² That King also understood this from oracles and from the direction of arrows he hurled up in the air. Again, to Prophets who [5] believed that men act from free choice and from their own power, God was revealed as indifferent, and as unaware of future human actions. We shall demonstrate all these things separately from Scripture itself.¹³

[16] The case of Elisha (in 2 Kings 3:15) establishes the first point. He asked for an instrument to prophesy to Jehoram; he could not perceive [10] God’s mind until its music had charmed him.¹⁴ Then, finally, he predicted joyful things to Jehoram and his companions. This couldn’t happen earlier, because he was angry with the King—those who are angry with someone are ready to imagine evils, but not goods, concerning them.

[17] Some say that God is not revealed to those who are angry or sad.¹⁵ [15] They are surely dreaming. For God revealed that wretched slaughter of the first-born to Moses when he was angry at Pharaoh (see Exodus 11:8), without using any musical instrument to do it. Again, God was revealed to Cain when he was in a rage [Genesis 4:6], and the wretchedness and stubbornness of the Jews were revealed to Ezekiel when he was angry and impatient (see Ezekiel 3:14). Jeremiah prophesied the [20] Jews’ calamities when he was very mournful and weary of life. That’s why Josiah did not want to consult him, but instead asked a woman of that time, expecting, from the female mentality, that she would be more ready to reveal God’s mercy to him (see 2 Chronicles 34[:22–28]).¹⁶

[18] Also, Micaiah never prophesied anything good to Ahab, though [25] other true Prophets did (as is evident from 1 Kings 20[:13]). But his whole life he prophesied evils (see 1 Kings 22:8, and more clearly, 2 Chronicles 18:7). The Prophets, therefore, were more ready for one kind of revelation than another, according to the variations in their bodily temperament.

[19] As for the second point, the style of the prophecy varied according to the articulateness of each Prophet. For unlike the Prophecies [30] of Isaiah and Nahum, those of Ezekiel and Amos are written, not in a refined, but in a more unsophisticated style.¹⁷ And if anyone who is skilled in the Hebrew language wants to examine these matters more carefully, let him compare certain chapters of the different Prophets with one another when they are dealing with the same subject; he will find a great difference in style.

Let him compare, for example, ch. 1 of the courtier, Isaiah, from vs. [III/34] 11 to vs. 20, with ch. 5 of the rustic Amos, from vs. 21 to vs. 24. Let him compare, next, the order and reasons of the Prophecy of Jeremiah which he wrote against Edom in ch. 49 [vv. 7–22] with the order and reasons of Obadiah [vv. 1–16]. Let him compare also Isaiah 40:19–20 [5] and 44:8ff. with Hosea 8:6 and 13:2. And similarly with the others. If you weigh all these things rightly, you will easily see that God has no distinctive style of speaking, but that he is refined, succinct, and severe, unsophisticated, wordy, and obscure, according to the learning and capacity of the Prophet.

[10] [20] Even when the Prophetic representations and symbols signified the same thing, they still varied. For to Isaiah the glory of God leaving the temple was represented differently than it was to Ezekiel [cf. Isaiah 6 with Ezekiel 1]. The Rabbis maintain that each representation was entirely the same, but that Ezekiel, being a rustic, was struck beyond measure with wonder, and therefore described it fully, with all the [15] circumstances.¹⁸ Nevertheless, if they didn’t have a certain tradition in support of this—which I don’t for a moment believe—they are making the whole thing up. For Isaiah saw Seraphim with six wings, while Ezekiel saw beasts with four wings. Isaiah saw God clothed and sitting on a royal throne, while Ezekiel saw him as like a fire. There is no doubt that each of them saw God as he was accustomed to imagine him.

[20] [21] Moreover, the representations varied not only in their manner, but also in their clarity. For Zechariah’s representations were too obscure for him to understand them without explanation, as is evident from his account of them [Zechariah 1:9]. And even after Daniel’s representations had been explained to him, the Prophet himself could [25] not understand them [Daniel 8:15–27]. This did not happen because of the difficulty of what was to be revealed—for it was only a matter of human affairs, which do not exceed the limits of human capacity, except insofar as they are future—but only because Daniel’s imagination did not have the same aptitude for prophesying while he was awake as it had while he was dreaming. This is evident from the fact [30] that at the very beginning of the revelation he was so terrified that he almost despaired of his powers. So because of the weakness of his imagination and of his powers, the things represented to him were very obscure, and he could not understand them even after they had been explained to him.

[22] Here it should be noted that the words Daniel heard (as we have shown above)¹⁹ were only imaginary. So it is no wonder that, being upset [III/35] at that time, he imagined all those words so confusedly and obscurely that afterward he could not understand anything from them. Some say that God did not want to reveal the thing clearly to Daniel. But they seem not to have read the words of the Angel, who says expressly (see 10:14) [5] that he came to make Daniel understand what would happen to his people in the end of days. So these things remained obscure because at that time no one was found who had enough power of imagination that they could be revealed to him more clearly.

[23] Finally, the Prophets to whom it was revealed that God would take Elijah up [into heaven] wanted to persuade Elisha that he had [10] been brought down in another place, where they could still find him [2 Kings 2:16]. This clearly shows that they had not understood God’s revelation properly.

There is no need to show these things more fully. For nothing is more clearly established in Scripture than that God endowed some Prophets with far more grace for prophesying than he did others.

[24] [As for the third point] I shall now show more carefully and in greater detail—for I think the matter is of great importance—that [15] the Prophecies or representations also varied according to the opinions the Prophets embraced, and that the Prophets had various, and indeed, contrary, opinions, as well as various prejudices. (I’m speaking here only about purely speculative matters, for we must think quite differently about matters which concern integrity and morals.) From [20] these propositions I shall conclude that Prophecy never rendered the Prophets more learned, but left them with their preconceived opinions, that for that reason we are not at all bound to believe them concerning purely speculative matters.

[25] With astonishing rashness everyone has persuaded himself that the Prophets knew everything the human intellect can attain to. And although certain passages of Scripture indicate to us as clearly as possible [25] that the Prophets were ignorant of certain things, they prefer to say that they do not understand Scripture in those passages, rather than concede that the Prophets were ignorant of anything. Or else they try to twist the words of Scripture so that it says what it plainly does not [30] mean. Of course, if either of these [ways of dealing with Scripture] is permissible, the whole of Scripture is undone. If it is permissible to number the clearest passages among those which are obscure and impenetrable, or to interpret them as one pleases, we will strive in vain to show something from Scripture.²⁰

[26] For example, nothing in Scripture is clearer than that Joshua, and perhaps also the author who wrote his story, thought that the sun [III/36] moves around the earth, that the earth is at rest, and that for some period of time the sun stood still.²¹ Nevertheless, there are many who do not want to concede that there can be any change in the heavens, and who therefore explain this passage so that it doesn’t seem to say anything like that. Others, who have learned to philosophize more correctly, [5] since they understand that the earth moves, whereas the sun is at rest, or does not move around the earth, strive with all their powers to twist the same [truth] out of Scripture, though it cries out in open protest against this treatment. They truly amaze me!

[27] Are we, I ask, bound to believe that Joshua, a soldier, was skilled in Astronomy? and that the miracle could not be revealed to him, or [10] that the light of the sun could not remain longer than usual above the horizon, unless Joshua understood the cause? Both alternatives seem to me ridiculous. I prefer, then, to say openly that Joshua did not know the true cause of the greater duration of that light, that he and the whole crowd who were present all thought that the sun moves with a [15] daily motion around the earth, and that on that day it stood still for a while. They believed this to be the cause of the greater duration of that light and they did not consider that a refraction greater than usual could arise from the large amount of ice then in that part of the air (see Joshua 10:11)—or from some other cause. We are not now concerned to ask what the true cause was.

[28] Similarly, the sign of the backward motion of the shadow was [20] revealed to Isaiah according to his power of understanding, viz. as a backward motion of the sun [cf. 2 Kings 20:8–12 with Isaiah 38:7–8]. For he too thought that the sun moves and that the earth is at rest. As luck would have it, he never thought of parhelia,²² not even in a dream. We are permitted to maintain this without any hesitation because the sign could really happen, and be predicted to the king by Isaiah, even though the Prophet did not know its true cause.

[25] [29] We must also say the same about Solomon’s building the temple (if, indeed, God revealed that to him), viz., that all his measures were revealed to him according to his power of understanding and opinions. Because we are not bound to believe that Solomon was a Mathematician, we are allowed to affirm that he did not know the ratio between the circumference of a circle and its diameter, and that he thought, [30] like ordinary workmen, that it is 3 to 1. But if it’s permitted to say that we do not understand that text—1 Kings 7:23—then I certainly don’t know what we can understand from Scripture. For the building is narrated there simply and purely historically.

[30] If we’re allowed to suppose that Scripture thought otherwise, [III/37] but for some reason unknown to us wished to write in this way, this will completely overturn the whole of Scripture. Everyone will be able, with equal right, to say the same thing about every passage in Scripture. [5] It will be permissible to perpetrate and defend, without harm to the authority of Scripture, whatever absurdity, whatever evil, human malice can think up. But what we’ve maintained contains no impiety. For though Solomon, Isaiah, Joshua and the rest were Prophets, they were still men, and nothing human should be thought alien to them.²³

[31] It was also according to Noah’s power of understanding that it was revealed to him that God was destroying the human race [Genesis 6:11–13]. [10] He thought the earth was not inhabited outside of Palestine. There’s also no impiety in supposing that the Prophets could be ignorant, not just of things of this kind, but of other more important things. They really were ignorant of these things. For they taught nothing remarkable about the divine attributes, but had quite ordinary opinions about God, to which their revelations were accommodated.

[15] I shall now show this by many testimonies from Scripture. From this you will easily see that the Prophets are praised, and so greatly commended, not for the loftiness and excellence of their understanding, but for their piety and constancy of heart.

[32] Adam, the first to whom God was revealed, did not know that [20] God is omnipresent and omniscient. For he hid himself from God [Genesis 3:8] and sought to excuse his sin in God’s presence, as if he had a man before him. So God was revealed to him also according to his power of understanding, as one who is not everywhere and who was unaware of Adam’s location and sin. For he heard, or he seemed [25] to hear, God walking through the garden, and calling him, and asking where he was; and when he showed his sense of shame, [he seemed to hear God] asking him whether he had eaten of the forbidden tree.²⁴ So Adam did not know any other attribute of God than that he was the maker of all things.

[33] To Cain also God was revealed according to his power of [30] understanding, i.e., as unaware of human affairs [Genesis 4:9]. For there was no need for him to have a loftier knowledge of God in order to repent of his sin.

To Laban God revealed himself as the God of Abraham, because Laban believed that each nation has its own special God. See Genesis 31:29.

[34] Abraham, too, did not know that God is everywhere and that he foreknows all things. For when he heard the judgment against the [III/38] Sodomites, he begged God not to carry it out before he knew whether they all deserved that punishment. So in Genesis 18:24 he says: אולי יש חמישים צדיקים בתוך העיר perhaps fifty just men are found in that city. And God was not revealed to him differently. For in Abraham’s imagination [5] [God] speaks thus: ארדה נא ואראה הכצעקתה הבאה אלי עשו כלה ואם לא אדעה now I shall go down to see whether they have done as the great complaint which has come to me says; if not, I shall know it [Genesis 18:21]. Also, the divine testimony concerning Abraham (see Genesis 18:19) contains nothing beyond his obedience, and that he recommended the right [10] and the good to his household; it does not say he had lofty thoughts about God.

[35] Even Moses did not perceive clearly enough that God is omniscient and that all human actions are directed by his decree alone. For though God had told him (see Exodus 3:18) that the Israelites would [15] obey him, he still questioned this, and replied (see Exodus 4:1): והן לא יאמינו לי ולא ישמעו לקולי what if they do not believe me and do not obey me?²⁵ And thus God was revealed to him as indifferent and unaware of future human actions. For he gave him two signs and said (Exodus 4:8): if it should happen that they do not believe the first sign, still, they will believe [20] the last; but if they do not believe even the last, take (then) some water from the river etc.

[36] If anyone is willing to assess Moses’ opinions carefully and without prejudice, he will find clearly that his opinion of God was that he is a being who exists, has always existed, and always will exist. For this reason he calls him by the name יהוה Yahweh, which in Hebrew [25] expresses these three times of existing.²⁶ But concerning his nature he teaches nothing except that he is compassionate, kind, etc., and supremely jealous.²⁷ This is established by a great many passages in the Pentateuch. Next, he believed and taught that this being differs so from all other beings that it cannot be expressed by any image of [30] anything seen, nor can it even be seen—not so much because the thing involves a contradiction as because of human weakness.²⁸ Moreover, he also taught that by reason of his power he is singular or unique.

[37] Moses conceded, of course, that there are beings which—doubtless from God’s order and command—are God’s agents, i.e., beings to whom God has given the authority, right and power to direct nations, [III/39] to provide for them and to care for them. But he taught that this being, whom [the Jews] were bound to worship, was the highest and supreme God, or (to use a Hebrew phrase) the God of Gods.²⁹ So in the song of Exodus (15:11) he said: מי כמוכה באלים יהוה who among the Gods is like you, Yahweh? And Jethro [says] (in Exodus 18:11): עתה ידעתי כי גדול יהוה מכל [5] האלהים now I know that Yahweh is greater than all the Gods, i.e., at last I am forced to concede to Moses that Yahweh is greater than all the Gods and uniquely powerful. But it can be doubted whether Moses believed that these beings who act as God’s agents were created by God. As far as we know, he never said anything about their creation and beginning.

[10] [38] In addition, he taught that this being [God] brought this visible world out of Chaos into order (see Genesis 1:2), that he put seeds in nature, and that therefore, he has the highest right and the highest power over all things,³⁰ and (see Deuteronomy 10:14–15) that in accordance with this highest right and power he chose, for himself alone, the [15] Hebrew nation and a certain region of the world (see Deuteronomy 4:19, 32:8–9), but that he left the other nations and regions to the care of the other Gods which he put in his place. That’s why he was called the God of Israel and of Jerusalem (see 2 Chronicles 32:19), while the other Gods were called the Gods of the other nations.

[20] [39] And that’s why the Jews believed that the region God chose for himself required a special worship of God, completely different from that of other regions—indeed that it could not permit the worship of other Gods, which was proper³¹ to other regions. They believed the peoples the king of Assyria brought into the lands of the Jews were torn to pieces by lions because they did not know the worship of the [25] Gods of that land. (See 2 Kings 17:25, 26, etc.) [40] According to Ibn Ezra,³² that’s why, when Jacob wanted to seek a homeland, he told his sons to prepare themselves for a new worship, and to put aside the alien Gods, i.e., the worship of the Gods of the land where they then were. (See Genesis 35:2–3.) Also when David wanted to tell Saul that [30] his persecution of him was forcing him to live outside his native land, he said that he was driven out of God’s inheritance and sent to worship other Gods. (See 1 Samuel 26:19.)

[41] Finally, [Moses] believed that this being, or God, had his dwelling place in the heavens (see Deuteronomy 33:27),³³ an opinion which was very common among the Gentiles.

[III/40] If we attend now to Moses’ revelations, we find that they were accommodated to these opinions. For because he believed that God’s nature admits of all the conditions we have mentioned, compassion, kindness, etc., God was revealed to him according to this opinion and under these attributes. (See Exodus 34:6–7, which tells how God appeared to [5] Moses, and vss. 4–5 of the Decalogue [in Exodus 20].)

[42] Next, [Exodus] 33:18[–23] relates that Moses asked God to be allowed to see him. But since (as has already been said) Moses had not formed any image of God in his brain, and since (as I’ve already shown) God is revealed to the Prophets only according to the disposition of their [10] imagination, God did not appear to him in any image.³⁴ I say that this happened because it was inconsistent with Moses’s imagination.³⁵ For other Prophets testify that they saw God, viz. Isaiah, Ezekiel, Daniel, etc. [43] And for this reason God replied to Moses, לא תוכל לראות את פני you will not be able to see my face [Exodus 33:20]. And because Moses [15] believed that God is visible, i.e., that it implies no contradiction in the divine nature [for God to be seen]—for otherwise he would not have asked anything like that—[God] adds, כי לא יראני האדם וחי since no one shall see me and live. So he gives Moses a reason consistent with Moses’ own opinion. For he does not say that it involves a contradiction on the part of the divine nature [for God to be seen], as in fact it does, [20] but that it cannot happen because of human weakness.

[44] Next, to reveal to Moses that because the Israelites had worshipped the calf, they had become like the other nations, God says (Exodus 33:2–3) that he will send an angel, i.e., a being which would take care of the Israelites in place of the supreme being, but that he does not wish to be among them. For this way left Moses nothing to [25] show him that the Israelites were dearer to God than the other nations, which God also gave over to the care of other beings, or angels. This is shown by Exodus 33:16.

[45] Finally, because God was believed to live in the heavens, he was revealed as descending from heaven to the top of a mountain. Moses [30] also went up the mountain to speak with God. This would not have been necessary at all, if he could, with equal ease, imagine God to be everywhere.

Even though God was revealed to the Israelites, they knew almost nothing about him. They showed this abundantly when, after a few days, they gave to a calf the honor and worship due to God, and believed that the calf was the Gods which had brought them out of Egypt. [See Exodus 32:4.][III/41] [46] And certainly it is not credible that uneducated men, accustomed to the superstitions of the Egyptians, and worn out by the most wretched bondage, would have understood anything sensible about God, or that Moses would have taught them anything other than a way of living—and that not as a Philosopher, so that they might eventually live well from freedom of mind, but as a Legislator, so that they were [5] constrained to live well by the command of the Law.

[47] So the principle of living well, or the true life, and the worship and love of God, were to them more bondage than true freedom, and the grace and gift of God. For he commanded them to love God and to keep his law, that they might acknowledge the goods they had received from God, such as their freedom from bondage in Egypt. Next he terrified them [10] with threats, if they transgressed those commands, and he promised them many goods if they respected them. So he taught them in the same way parents usually do children who are lacking in all reason.³⁶ Hence, it is certain that they did not know the excellence of virtue and true blessedness.

[48] Jonah thought he could flee from God’s sight [Jonah 1:3]. This [15] seems to show that he too believed that God had entrusted the care of the regions outside Judaea to other powers, whom he had assigned to act for him.

There is no one in the Old Testament who spoke about God more rationally than Solomon, who surpassed everyone in his age in the natural light. That’s why he also thought himself above the Law—for [20] it was imparted only to those who lack reason and the teachings of the natural intellect. All the laws concerning the king (there were chiefly three of these; see Deuteronomy 17:16–17), he regarded as of little importance; indeed, he clearly violated them.³⁷ In doing this, however, he erred, and by indulging in sensual pleasures he acted in a way [25] unworthy of a Philosopher. He taught that all the goods of fortune are hollow for mortals (see Ecclesiastes), that men have nothing more excellent than the intellect, and that there is no greater punishment for them than folly (see Proverbs 16:22).³⁸

[49] But let us return to the Prophets, whose differences of opinion [30] we have undertaken to note. The Rabbis who left us those books of the Prophets now extant found the opinions of Ezekiel so inconsistent with those of Moses that—as we are told in the treatise on the Sabbath (ch. I, 13b)—they almost decided not to admit his book among the canonical ones,³⁹ and would have completely hidden it if a certain Hananias had not taken it upon himself to explain it. They say (as the [III/42] story goes there) that he finally did this, with great labor and zeal. But it isn’t clear enough how he did it. Did he write a commentary, which is now, by chance, lost? Or was he so bold that he changed the very words and utterances of Ezekiel and arranged them according to his own mentality? Whatever he did, Chapter 18, at least, does not seem [5] to agree with Exodus 34:7 or with Jeremiah 32:18, etc.⁴⁰

[50] Samuel believed that when God has decreed something, he never repents of his decree (see 1 Samuel 15:29), for when Saul to repenting of his sin, wanted to worship God, and to ask forgiveness of him, he said to him that God would not change his decree against him. To [10] Jeremiah, on the other hand, it was revealed (18:8–10) that whether God has decreed some harm or some good to a nation, he may repent of his decree, provided that men also, from the time of his judgment, change for better or for worse. But Joel taught that God repents only of harm (see 2:13).

[51] Finally, Genesis 4:7 shows most clearly that man can overcome [15] the temptations of sin and act well. For this is said to Cain, who, however, never overcame them. Both Scripture and Josephus establish this.⁴¹ The same thing may also be inferred most clearly from the chapter of Jeremiah just mentioned. For it says that God may repent of a decree issued for the harm or good of men, depending on whether men are [20] willing to change their practices and way of living. On the other hand, Paul teaches nothing more expressly than that men have no control over the temptations of the flesh except by the special calling and grace of God. See Romans 9:10ff.⁴² Note that when he attributes justice to God in 3:5 and 6:19, he corrects himself, because he is speaking thus [25] in a human way, on account of the weakness of the flesh.

[52] The passages we have discussed establish more than adequately what we proposed to show: that God accommodated his revelations to the power of understanding and to the opinions of the Prophets, and that the Prophets could be ignorant of things which concern only speculation, but not those which concern loving-kindness and how to [30] conduct our lives,⁴³ and that they really were ignorant and had contrary opinions [regarding speculative matters]. So we really should not seek knowledge of natural and spiritual things from them.

[53] We conclude, therefore, that we are not bound to believe the Prophets regarding anything except what is the end and substance of revelation.⁴⁴ In all other things each person is free to believe as he pleases. For example, the revelation to Cain [Gen. 4:6–7] teaches us [III/43] only that God warned him to lead a true life, for that was the only intent and substance of the revelation, not teach the freedom of the will or Philosophic matters. So even though the freedom of the will is contained very clearly in the words and reasonings of that warning, we are permitted to think the will is not free, since those words and [5] reasonings were only accommodated to Cain’s power of understanding.

[54] Similarly, the revelation to Micaiah [1 Kings 22:19] means to teach only that God revealed to Micaiah the true outcome of the battle of Ahab against Aram. So this again is all we are bound to believe. Whatever else is contained in that revelation, regarding the true and [10] false Spirit of God, and the host of heaven standing on each side of God, and all the other circumstances of that revelation, does not touch us at all. So concerning those things each one may believe what seems more consistent with his reason.

[55] Concerning the reasonings by which God showed Job his power over all things [Job 38–41]—if indeed it is true that they were revealed [15] to Job and that the author [of that book] was concerned to narrate a history, not, as some believe,⁴⁵ to embellish his conceptions [by giving them a concrete form]—we must say the same thing: that they were adduced according to Job’s power of understanding, and only to convince him, not that they are universal reasons for convincing everyone.

[56] We should maintain the same thing about the reasonings by [20] which Christ convicted the Pharisees of stubbornness and ignorance, and exhorted his disciples to the true life: he accommodated his reasonings to the opinions and principles of each one. E.g., when he said to the Pharisees (Matthew 12:26), if Satan casts out Satan, he is divided against himself; how then should his kingdom stand?, he just wanted to convince the Pharisees [25] from their own principles, not to teach that there are Devils, or that there is a kingdom of Devils.⁴⁶ Likewise, when he said to his disciples (Matthew 18:10), see that you do not disdain one of those little ones, for I say to you that in the heavens their Angels etc. [always behold the face of my Father who is in heaven]. For he just wanted to teach them not to be proud and not to [30] disdain anyone, but not the rest of the things which are contained in his reasons, which he offers only to persuade his disciples better.

[57] Finally, we must say absolutely the same thing about the reasonings and signs of the Apostles. There is no need to speak more fully about these matters. For if I had to enumerate all those Passages in Scripture which are written only ad hominem, or, according to someone’s [III/44] power of understanding, and which cannot be defended as divine teaching without great prejudice to Philosophy, I would give up the brevity I desire. Let it suffice, therefore, to have touched on a few, universal things. The rest the curious reader may weigh for himself.

[58] Although only the things we have said about the Prophets and [5] Prophecy pertain particularly to my purpose of separating Philosophy from Theology, nevertheless, because I have treated Prophecy generally, I want to ask now whether the gift of Prophecy was peculiar to the Hebrews or whether it was common to all nations. We also need to ask what we must maintain about the calling of the Hebrews. That’s [10] the object of the following chapter.

1. Spinoza now makes his opposition to Maimonides more explicit. Cf. i, 9, and the annotation there. In 1 Kings 4:31 Solomon is said to have been wiser than all other men (including Heman, Darda, and Kalchol). One matter of dispute is whether Hagar was really a prophet. Maimonides denied it (Guide II, 42). But though the two versions of the story of her expulsion (in Gen. 16:1–16 and 21:8–21) differ in numerous details, both agree that an angel spoke to her and revealed that her offspring would flourish.

2. Spinoza may have in mind the controversies over the Cartesian philosophy at Utrecht and Leiden in the 1640s, where Descartes was accused of atheism, partly because he rejected the traditional arguments for God’s existence, and sought to prove God’s existence from our idea of God, an idea the critics thought we could not have. On this see Verbeek 1992. But the accusation was of course one which Spinoza himself had to face. Cf. Letter 42, IV/218/32–34.

3. What reasoning must be added, if an imagination is to become certain? The Treatise on the Intellect suggests that it is an understanding of the nature of the imagination and the laws of nature involved in causing us to perceive things the way we do. Cf. TdIE, 102–3; TTP i, 44, 48 and v, 35; and Curley 1973. The signs which Spinoza says the prophets had would not provide that understanding, and so would not yield more than a subjective feeling of certainty, not objective certainty.

4. In the passage cited Jesus warns that false messiahs and false prophets will appear and produce great signs and omens, “to lead astray, if possible, even the elect.”

5. Cf. Descartes, the Second and Sixth Replies (AT 1974–86, VII, 125–26, 142–44, 415–16, 428–31).

6. Spinoza refers, without quoting it, to a proverb cited in 1 Sam. 24:13: “Out of the wicked comes forth wickedness, but my hand shall not be against you.” Abigail’s speech is in 1 Sam. 25:24–31.

7. First Micaiah prophesies success, but then, under pressure from Ahab to tell the truth, he prophesies failure. Cf. 1 Kings 22:13–18, 2 Chron. 18:12–17.

8. Spinoza is referring, in the first instance, to 2 Sam. 24:1, according to which God, in his anger against the people of Israel, incited David to count them. It is unclear why numbering the people was a sin. Manasseh 1842/1972, I, 194–98, canvasses several theories, among them the theory that in failing to count the people by collecting half a shekel from each man (cf. Exod. 30:12–13), David risked bringing the Evil Eye upon them. Manasseh accepts the reality of the Evil Eye, but does not think David’s failure to follow Exodus’s prescription explained why his act was sinful.

In any event, David acknowledged having sinned greatly, and the people of Israel were accordingly punished with a pestilence in which seventy thousand people died. Discomfort about this passage seems to go back to biblical times. 1 Chron. 21:1 makes Satan the one who incited David’s sin (perhaps, as HCSB suggests, because the Chronicler is reluctant to make God the author of a sin he proceeds to punish).

David’s piety is attested in 1 Kings 14:8, 15:5, and 11, though 15:5 takes notice of his (many) shortcomings. Manasseh 1842/1972, II, 63–65, provides an interesting account of the medieval debates about David’s character.

9. Jeremiah’s point, however, seems to be somewhat different from the one Spinoza suggests, viz. that the prophet who prophesies an outcome his hearers desire can be known to be a prophet only after his predictions have been realized.

10. This point is developed further in ii, 16–18.

11. This point is developed further in ii, 19–23.

12. In some translations (e.g., the NRSV) the relevant passage appears in verse 21:21. In others (e.g., the NJPS translation) it’s in verse 26.

13. Since Spinoza regards this point as especially important, he devotes several pages to arguing for it, beginning in ii, 24, and extending to ii, 52.

14. HCSB cites 1 Sam. 10:5–6 to show that “Prophets sometimes used music to induce trance or possession by God’s spirit.”

15. Cf. Maimonides Guide II, xxxvi, which cites the Talmud (Shabbath 30b) in favor of this position.

16. Spinoza’s explanation of Josiah’s consultation of Huldah may have been suggested by that offered in the Talmud (Meg. 14b).

17. A point acknowledged in Calvin, Institutes I, viii, 2 (Gebhardt V, 16).

18. Spinoza refers here to a passage in the Talmud (Hagigah 13b), discussed (but not unequivocally endorsed) by Maimonides Guide III, 6.

19. See i, 10–22, where Spinoza argues that only when God communicated the law to Moses did he use a true voice.

20. The target here is the kind of rationalistic interpretation Spinoza associates with Maimonides. He will return to this critique in vii, 75ff.

21. Cf. Josh. 10:12–14. Note the distinction Spinoza makes between Joshua and the author of the book of Joshua, anticipating a claim he will not argue for until viii, 34–38.

22. A parhelion is a bright spot in the sky caused by the reflection of sunlight on ice crystals in the atmosphere. Descartes offered an explanation of them in the final chapter of his Météores (AT 1974–86, VI, 354–66) and Huygens also wrote a treatise on them, De coronis et parheliis.

23. Alluding to Terence’s Heautontimorumenos, 77. Cf. Letter 13, and TTP Pref. 35.

24. The anthropomorphism of these passages naturally attracted the attention of the classical commentators. Rashi (1960) dealt with the questions God asks in Gen. 3:9 by saying “he knew where [Adam] was, but He asked this in order to open up a conversation with him, that he should not become confused in his reply, if He were to pronounce punishment against him all of a sudden.” Similarly for God’s questions to Cain at Gen. 4:9 and to Balaam at Num. 22:9. Ibn Ezra 1988 offers the same solution.

25. Spinoza’s Hebrew text departs from MT here.

26. Spinoza takes the divine name to be derived from the verbal root hayah, he is, which, depending on pointing, prefixes, and context, can refer to past, present, or future existence. This interpretation stems from Exod. 3:14, which has been variously translated: I am that I am (KJV), I am who I am (RSV, NRSV), I am what I am (RSV, NRSV alt), I will be what I will be (RSV, NRSV alt). This passage has occasioned much discussion, on which see Childs 1974. Spinoza will return to the subject of the divine name in xiii, 10ff., where he will take Exod. 6:3 as his text.

27. At Deut. 4:24, Moses says of God that he is “a devouring fire, a jealous God.” HCSB comments that this combination of epithets expresses “the vehement passion of the Lord’s self-defense against idolatry and other acts of profanation.” Rashi 1960 offered a similar gloss on the use of this language in the Decalogue. (See SC at Exod. 20:5.)

28. That is, it is not (according to Moses) intrinsically impossible for God to be seen; it is only impossible for man to see God and survive the experience. Cf. Exod. 33:20–23, and in the TTP, i, 17–18; ii, 42–43; vii, 19.

29. Cf. Deut. 10:17. Mosaic theology, as Spinoza presents it, is a form of what is sometimes called monolatry: it acknowledges the existence of many gods, but calls upon the people of Israel to worship only one, who is represented as superior to the others and particularly concerned with the people of Israel. It appears that Moses may not have conceived these other gods as created by Yahweh, and some passages suggest that the worship of the other gods was thought appropriate for the inhabitants of other lands.

Though Spinoza’s reading of the Hebrew Bible is common today, it seems to have been unusual in Spinoza’s day. Maimonides interpreted language like Elohim of the Elohim to mean “deity of the angels” (Guide II, 6). Medieval commentators like Rashi, Ibn Ezra, and Nachmanides all followed him, as did Manasseh 1842/1972, qu. 188, commenting on Ps. 95:3. Older translations also often followed this interpretation (e.g., both the older and the more recent JPS translations). For more recent discussions, see Freedman 1987, Scullion 1992, and the annotation to Exod. 15:11 in HCSB, which cites Exod. 12:12, among other passages, as illustrating that other gods are assumed to exist, even though they prove powerless in a contest with Yahweh.

30. Note that Spinoza does not describe God’s creative activity in a way which suggests creation out of nothing. Cf. CM II, x.

31. proprium, which can mean either “peculiar” or “appropriate.”

32. Gebhardt V, 20, identifies the passage in Ibn Ezra as occurring in his commentary on Genesis 31:16 (Ibn Ezra 1988, V, 228).

33. Deut. 33:26 would be more accurate.

34. The claim that God didn’t appear to Moses by any image seems contrary to i, 18 and 21.

35. Manasseh, commenting on Exod. 24:11, reports it as the opinion of “the Sages of the Talmud” that “Moses did not make use of imagination in his prophecies, but that his intellectual powers were divested of all corporeal affections” (1842/1972, I, 187). Cf. Maimonides Guide II, 35–36.

36. Gebhardt V, 20, compares this with similar passages in Maimonides (Guide III, 32) and Calvin (Institutes II, xi, 13).

37. 1 Kings combines high praise for Solomon (in 10:23–24) with sharp criticism (in 11:1–13).

38. On the authorship of Ecclesiastes and Proverbs, see the notes at x, 5, and xix, 8. Perhaps Spinoza oversimplifies the teaching of Ecclesiastes. It’s true that its author expresses contempt for the goods of fortune in passages like 6:1–6; but sometimes he includes wisdom and knowledge among the things he finds vain—e.g., in 1:16–18, a passage Spinoza quotes in the Ethics (IV P17S). Manasseh’s discussion of the prima facie contradictions in Ecclesiastes (1842/1972, II, 299–324) deserves attention.

39. Arguably Spinoza has misunderstood the passage from the Talmud which he cites. Shabbath 13b reports that: “R. Judah (250–290) said in Rab’s (220–250) name: In truth, that man Hananiah, son of Hezekiah (early first century) by name, is to be remembered with blessing; but for him the book of Ezekiel would have been withdrawn, for its words contradicted the Torah. What did he do? Three hundred barrels of oil were taken up to him, and he sat in an upper chamber and reconciled the contradictions.” I follow the translation given in Leiman 1976, 72. Leiman argues that the term here translated withdraw, גנז, does not imply a denial of canonical status, but only a withdrawal of the book from circulation, on the ground that it contains problematic material, including material which could encourage heretical ideas (p. 79). Cf. X, 43–47.

40. The reference is evidently to Ezek. 18:14–20, which denies that the sins of the fathers will be visited upon their children. Manasseh, commenting on the apparent inconsistency between this verse and Exod. 20:5, observes that “Not only do these verses appear to contradict each other, but on a proper examination of sacred history, it will be found that there are many opposite statements on this point” (1842/1972, I, 164). He canvasses a number of different solutions and claims that the texts can be reconciled by any of them.

The fact that a prima facie inconsistency has been left standing does not seem consistent with Spinoza’s suggestion that Hananiah may have secured Ezekiel a place in the canon by altering his text to make it consistent with the teachings of the other prophets.

41. The reference is to Josephus, Antiquities I, ii, 2.

42. The passage cited here has also been quoted in Volume I, cf. I/264–65, and will recur in the correspondence. The metaphor of the potter and the clay used there by Paul is also used, to an apparently different purpose, by Jeremiah in the chapter cited above. Spinoza’s treatment of Paul as a prophet seems to conflict with the position he takes in Ch. xi.

43. Cf. Maimonides, Guide, II, 38. Spinoza here treats the question of man’s ability to overcome temptation as a speculative matter, but it does seem to bear on practical matters. If we think people can’t overcome temptation, this may affect whether we treat their shortcomings with forbearance.

44. Cf. Maimonides Guide II, 38: “Know that the true prophets indubitably grasp speculative matters” (Gebhardt V, 22).

45. Maimonides is apparently one of the people criticized here. Cf. x, 16–18. I’ve discussed Spinoza’s interpretation of Job in Curley 2002.

46. Cf. Hobbes, Leviathan viii, 25–26.

[III/44] CHAPTER III

On the Calling of the Hebrews

AND WHETHER THE GIFT OF PROPHECY WAS PECULIAR TO THE HEBREWS

[1] The true happiness and blessedness of each person consists only [15] in the enjoyment of the good, and not in a self-esteem founded on the fact that he alone enjoys the good, all others being excluded from it. For whoever views himself as more blessed because things are well with him, but not with others, or because he is more blessed and more fortunate than others, does not know true happiness and blessedness. [20] The joy he derives from that comparison comes from envy and a bad heart—if it isn’t mere childishness.

[2] For example, the true happiness and blessedness of man consists only in wisdom and in knowledge of the truth, not at all in the fact that he is wiser than others, or that others lack true knowledge. For their ignorance does not increase his wisdom at all, i.e., his true happiness. [25] So someone who rejoices for that reason rejoices because of an evil occurring to someone else. He is envious and evil, failing to know either true wisdom or the peace of true life.

[3] To exhort the Hebrews to obey the law Scripture says

[i] that God chose them for himself before the other nations (Deuteronomy 10:15),

[30] [ii] that he is close to them, but not to others (Deuteronomy 4:4–7),

[iii] that he has prescribed just laws only for them (Deuteronomy 4:8), and finally,

[iv] that he has made himself known only to them, the others being treated as inferior (Deuteronomy 4:32), etc.

When it says this, it speaks only according to the power of understanding [III/45] of people who, as we have shown in the preceding chapter, and as Moses himself witnesses (Deuteronomy 9:6–7), did not know true blessedness. [4] For surely they would have been no less blessed if God had called all equally to salvation; God would have been no less well-disposed toward them, if he had been equally close to the others; [5] the laws would have been no less just, and the Hebrew people no less wise, if the laws had been prescribed to all; miracles would have shown God’s power no less if they had been performed for the sake of other nations also; and finally, the Hebrews would have been no less bound to worship God if God had bestowed all these gifts equally on all people.

[5] Moreover, what God says to Solomon—that no one after him [10] would be as wise as he was (1 Kings 3:12)—seems to be only a manner of speaking, to signify exceptional wisdom. However that may be, we must not in any way believe that God promised Solomon, for his greater happiness, that he would not afterward bestow such great wisdom on anyone else. For this would not increase Solomon’s intellect at all, and a [15] wise King would give no less thanks to God for such a great gift, even if God had said that he would endow everyone with the same wisdom.¹

[6] But though we say that in the passages of the Pentateuch just cited Moses was speaking according to the Hebrews’ power of understanding, we still don’t wish to deny that God prescribed those laws [20] of the Pentateuch only to them, or that he spoke only to them, or, finally, that the Hebrews saw wonders whose like no other nation ever saw. We mean only that Moses wanted to warn the Hebrews in this way, and especially by these reasons, so that he might bind them more to the worship of God, in accordance with their childish power [25] of understanding. Next, we wished to show that the Hebrews did not excel the other nations in 'knowledge or in piety, but in something altogether different—or (to speak, with Scripture, according to their power of understanding) that, though the Hebrews were frequently warned, they were not chosen by God before all others for a true life and lofty speculations, but for something entirely different. What this [30] was, I shall show here in an orderly fashion.

[7] But before I begin, I want to explain briefly what in the following I shall understand by God’s guidance, by God’s aid (both external and internal), by God’s choice, and finally, by fortune.

By God’s guidance I understand the fixed and immutable order of nature, [III/46] or the connection of natural things.

[8] For we have said above, and have already shown elsewhere,² that the universal laws of nature, according to which all things happen and are determined, are nothing but the eternal decrees of God, which always involve eternal truth and necessity. Therefore, whether we say that all things happen according to the laws of nature, or that [5] they are ordered according to the decree and guidance of God, we say the same thing.

[9] Next, because the power of all natural things is nothing but the power itself of God, through which alone all things happen and are determined, from this it follows that whatever man, who is also a part of nature, provides for himself, as an aid to preserving his being, or [10] whatever nature supplies him with, without his doing anything himself, it is the power of God alone which provides these things for him, inasmuch as it acts either through human nature or through things outside human nature. Therefore,

whatever human nature can furnish for preserving its being from its own power alone, we can rightly call God’s internal aid, and

whatever in addition turns out for his advantage from the power of [15] external causes, we can rightly call God’s external aid.

[10] From these considerations it is easy to infer what must be understood by God’s choice. For since no one does anything except according to the predetermined order of nature, i.e., according to God’s eternal guidance and decree, it follows that

[20] no one chooses any manner of living for himself, or does anything, except by the special calling of God, who has chosen him before others for this work, or for this manner of living.

[11] Finally,

by fortune I understand nothing but God’s guidance, insofar as it directs human affairs through external and unforeseen causes.

With these preliminaries, we shall return to our purpose, which was [25] to see why the Hebrew nation was said to have been chosen by God before others. To show this, I proceed as follows.

[12] Whatever we can honorably desire is related above all to these three things:

[i] understanding things through their first causes;

[30] [ii] gaining control over the passions, or acquiring the habit of virtue; and finally,

[iii] living securely and healthily.

The means which lead directly to the first and second of these, and can be considered their proximate and efficient causes, are contained in human nature itself. So acquiring them depends chiefly on our power alone, or on the laws of human nature alone. For this reason we must maintain, without qualification, that these gifts are not peculiar [III/47] to any nation, but have always been common to the whole human race—unless we want to dream that formerly nature produced different kinds of men.

[13] But the means which lead to living securely and preserving the body are chiefly placed in external things, and for that reason they are [5] called gifts of fortune, because they depend for the most part on the governance of external causes of which we are ignorant. So in this matter, the wise man and the fool are almost equally happy or unhappy.

Nevertheless, to live securely, and to avoid injuries from other men and from the beasts, human governance and vigilance can be a great [10] help. [14] To this end reason and experience have taught no more certain means than to form a social order with definite laws, to occupy a definite area of the world, and to reduce the powers of all, as it were, into one body, the body of the social order.

But to form and preserve a social order requires no small talent and vigilance. So a social order which for the most part is founded and [15] directed by prudent and vigilant men will be more secure, more stable, and less subject to fortune. Conversely, if a social order is established by men of untrained intelligence, it will depend for the most part on fortune and will be less stable. [15] If, in spite of this, it has lasted a long time, it will owe this to the guidance of another, not to its own [20] guidance. Indeed, if it has overcome great dangers and matters have turned out favorably for it, it will only be able to wonder at and revere the guidance of God (i.e., insofar as God acts through hidden external causes, but not insofar as he acts through human nature and the human mind). Since nothing has happened to it except what is completely unexpected and contrary to opinion, this can even be considered to [25] be really a miracle.

[16] The only thing which distinguishes one nation from one another, then, is the social order and the laws under which they live and by which they are directed. So the Hebrew nation was not chosen by God before others because of its intellect or its peace of mind, but because [30] of its social order and the fortune by which it came to have a state, and kept it for so many years.

[17] This is also established most plainly by Scripture itself. For if you run through it even casually, you will see clearly that the Hebrews excelled the other nations only in this: they handled their security auspiciously, and overcame great dangers. For the most part this was [III/48] just by God’s external aid. In other things, you will see that they were equal to others, and that God was equally well-disposed to all. [18] As far as the intellect is concerned, it is clear (as we have shown in the preceding chapter) that they had quite ordinary thoughts about God and nature. They were not chosen by God before others for their [5] intellect. But neither were they chosen because of their virtue and true life. For in this respect also they were equal to the other nations and only a very few were chosen. [19] Their election, therefore, and their calling consisted only in the enduring prosperity of their state and in [other temporal] advantages.

Nor do we see that God promised the Patriarchs³** or their successors [10] anything more than this. Indeed, all the Law promises for obedience is the continual prosperity of their state and the other advantages of this life. Conversely, [it threatened] nothing for obstinacy and breaking the covenant except the ruin of their state and the greatest [temporal] disadvantages.⁴

[20] This is not surprising. For the end of the whole social order and of the state—as is evident from what has just been said and as we shall show more fully in what follows—is to live securely and conveniently.⁵ [15] Moreover, a state can stand firm only if there are Laws by which each one is bound. But if all the members of a social order wish to abandon the laws, they thereby dissolve the social order and destroy the state. [21] So nothing else could be promised to the social order of the Hebrews, for their constant observance of the laws, except security [20] of life⁶** and the advantages [security provides]. Conversely, no more certain punishment for obstinacy could be predicted than the ruin of the state, and the evils which commonly follow from that, along with the other evils which would arise especially for them because of the ruin their particular state. But for the present there is no need to treat these things more fully.⁷

[22] I add only this: the Laws of the Old Testament were revealed [25] and prescribed only to the Jews. For since God chose only them to constitute a particular social order and state, they necessarily had to have special laws. Whether God prescribed special laws to other nations also and revealed himself to their Legislators prophetically, i.e., under [30] those attributes by which they were accustomed to imagine God, that seems to me not sufficiently established. But this, at least, is evident from Scripture itself: that by God’s external guidance the other nations also had a state and their own special laws. [23] To show this I’ll cite just two passages of Scripture.

In Genesis 14:18–20 it is related that Melchizedek was king of [III/49] Jerusalem⁸ and priest of God, the most high, and that he blessed Abraham, as was the right of the Priest (see Numbers 6:23), and finally, that Abraham, the beloved of God, gave a tenth of all his spoils to the priest of God. [24] All these things show clearly enough that, before [5] God founded the People of Israel, he had established kings and priests in Jerusalem, and prescribed customs and laws for them. Whether he did this prophetically or not—that, as we have said, is not sufficiently clear. But this much, at least, I’m persuaded of: while Abraham lived there, he lived scrupulously according to those laws. For Abraham did not receive any rites specially from God; nevertheless Genesis 26:5 says [10] that Abraham observed the worship, precepts, institutions and Laws of God. Doubtless these must be understood to be the worship, precepts, institutions and laws of king Melchizedek.

[25] Again, Malachi (1:10–11) reproaches the Jews in these words: מי גם בכם ויסגור דלתים ולא תאירו מזבחי חנם אין לי חפץ בכם וגו: כי ממזרח שמש ועד מבואו גדול שמי בגוים ובכל מקום מוקטר מוגש לשמי ומנחה טהורה כי גדול שמי בגוים אמר יהוה צבאות Who is there among you who will close the doors (sc. of the temple), so that the fire shall not be placed on my altar in vain; I take no pleasure in you, etc. For from the rising of the sun to its setting, my name is great among the nations, and everywhere incense is set before me, [20] and a pure offering; for my name is great among the nations, says the God of hosts. Unless we want to do violence to these words,⁹ they can only be taken as referring to the present time. So they testify more than adequately that the Jews of that time were no more beloved of God than the other Nations, indeed, that God had, by miracles, become [25] more known to the other Nations than to the Jews of that time, who had then regained a part of their state without miracles, and finally, that the Nations had rites and ceremonies which were acceptable to God.

[26] But I put these matters to one side. It is enough for my purposes to have shown that the Jews’ election concerned nothing but the temporal prosperity of the body, and freedom, or a state, and the [30] manner and means by which they acquired it, and hence also the Laws, insofar as they were necessary for making that particular state stable, and finally, the manner in which those laws were revealed. In other things, and in those in which the true happiness of man consists, I have shown that they were equal to the other nations.

[27] So when it is said in Scripture (see Deut. 4:7) that no Nation [III/50] has Gods as close to it as the Jews have God, that must be understood only with respect to the state and only concerning that time in which so many miracles happened to them. For with respect to intellect and virtue, i.e., with respect to blessedness, God, as we have said and shown by reason itself, is equally well-disposed to all. This is also sufficiently established by Scripture itself.

[5] [28] For the Psalmist says (Ps. 145:18): קרוב יהוה לכל קוראיו לכל אשר יקראוהו באמת God is near to all who call him, to all who truly call him. Similarly in the same Psalm, vs. 9: טוב יהוה לכל ורחמיו על כל מעשיו God is beneficent to all, and his compassion (is) towards all things which he has made. [10] In Ps. 33:15 it is said clearly that God has given the same intellect to all, in these words: היוצר יחד לבם who forms their heart in the same way. For the Hebrews believed the heart to be the seat of the soul and of the intellect, as I believe everyone knows well enough.

[29] Again, Job 28:28¹⁰ establishes that God prescribed this Law to [15] the whole human race: to revere God and to abstain from evil works, or to act well. So although Job was a gentile, he was most acceptable of all to God, since he surpassed everyone in piety and in religion. Finally, Jonah 4:2 establishes most clearly that God is well-disposed, compassionate, [20] long-suffering, full of beneficence, and repentant of evil toward all men and not only toward the Jews. For Jonah says for that reason I decided before to flee to Tarsus because I knew (from the words of Moses in Exodus 34:6) that you are a God who is well-disposed, compassionate, etc. and therefore would pardon the gentiles of Nineveh.

[25] [30] We conclude, then—since God is equally well-disposed to all and chose the Hebrews only with respect to their social order and their state—that each Jew, considered alone and outside that social order and state, possesses no gift of God which would place him above other men, and that there is no difference between him and a gentile.

[31] Since God is equally beneficent, compassionate, etc., to all, and [30] the function of the Prophet was to teach men, not the special laws of their native land so much as true virtue, and to advise them about that, there is no doubt that all the nations had Prophets, and that the gift of Prophecy was not peculiar to the Jews. Indeed, both sacred and profane histories testify to this. Although the sacred histories of the Old Testament [III/51] do not establish that the other Nations had as many Prophets as the Hebrews, or indeed that God sent any gentile Prophet expressly to the nations, that does not matter. For the Hebrews were concerned to write only of their own affairs, and not those of other nations.

[32] It is enough, then, that we should find in the Old Testament [5] men who were gentiles and uncircumcised (like Noah, Enoch, Abimelech, and Balaam) and prophesied, and that God sent the Hebrew Prophets not only to their own nation, but also to many others.¹¹ For Ezekiel prophesied to all the nations then known. Obadiah prophesied, so far as we know, only to the Edomites, and Jonah, principally to the Ninevites.

[10] [33] Isaiah not only lamented and predicted the calamities of the Jews, and sang of their restoration, he also lamented the calamities of other nations. For he says in 16:9 על כן אבכה בבכי יעזר Therefore I shall mourn with the weeping of Jazer; and in ch. 19 he predicts first the calamities of the Egyptians, and afterward their restoration (see 19:19, 20, 21, 25). [15] He says God will send a Savior to them, who will free them, that God will become known to them, and finally, that the Egyptians will worship God with sacrifices and offerings. In the end he calls this nation Blessed Egypt, people of God. All these things are most worthy of being noted.

[34] Finally, Jeremiah is called not only a Prophet of the Hebrew [20] people, but a Prophet of the nations without exception (see 1:5). He too laments when he predicts the calamities of the nations, and predicts their restoration; for he says in 48:31 על כן על מואב איליל ולמואב כלה אזעק Therefore I wail for Moab, I cry out for all Moab etc., and in 48:36 על כן [25] לבי למואב כחללים יהמה Therefore my heart beats for Moab like a drum. And finally he predicts their restoration, as he does also the restoration of the Egyptians, the Ammonites and the Elamites.

[35] So there is no doubt that the other nations had their own Prophets also, as the Jews did, who prophesied to them and to the [30] Jews. Although Scripture mentions only Balaam to whom the future affairs of the Jews and of other nations were revealed, nevertheless it is not credible that Balaam prophesied only on that occasion. For the narrative itself establishes very clearly that he had long been famous for prophecy and other divine gifts. When Balak bids him to come to [III/52] him, he says (Numbers 22:6) כי ידעתי את אשר תברך יבורך ואשר תאור יואר since I know that he whom you bless is blessed, and he whom you curse is cursed. So he had that same power which God bestowed on Abraham (see Genesis 12:3).

[36] Again, Balaam replies to the messengers like one who is accustomed [5] to prophecies, saying that they should wait for him until the will of God is revealed to him. When he prophesied, i.e., when he interpreted the true mind of God, he was accustomed to say this of himself: נאם שומע אמרי אל ויודע דעת עליון מחזה שדי יחזה נופל וגלוי עינים the oracle of him who hears the dictates of God, and who knows the 'knowledge (or mind and [10] foreknowledge) of the most high, who sees the vision of the almighty, falling down, but with his eyes open.¹² Finally, after he has blessed the Hebrews according to the command of God, he began (as was his custom) to prophesy to the other nations and to predict their future affairs.

[37] All these things indicate more than adequately either that Balaam was always a Prophet, or that he prophesied quite frequently, and [15] (what is still to be noted here) that he had what mainly rendered the Prophets certain of the truth of their prophecy: a heart inclined only to the right and the good. For he did not bless those whom he wished to and curse those whom he wished to, as Balak thought, but only those whom God willed to be blessed or cursed. That is why he replied to [20] Balak even if Balak should give me enough silver and gold to fill his house, I cannot transgress God’s edict, to do good or evil according to my own will; what God speaks I will speak.¹³

[38] As for the fact that God was angry with him while he was on his journey, that also happened to Moses, when, in accordance with God’s command (see Exodus 4:24), he was setting out for Egypt. As for the [25] fact that he accepted money for prophesying, Samuel did the same (see 1 Samuel 9:7–8). And if he sinned in some matter (concerning this, see 2 Peter 2:15–16 and Jude 11), no one is so righteous that he always acts well and never sins (see Ecclesiastes 7:20). Surely his utterances must [30] always have had great value before God and his power of cursing was certainly very great, since it is found so often in Scripture (in order to show God’s great compassion toward the Israelites) that God would not listen to Balaam and that he turned his curse into a blessing (see Deuteronomy 23:6,¹⁴ Joshua 24:10, Nehemiah 13:2). So there is no doubt that he was most acceptable to God. For the utterances and [III/53] curses of impious men do not move God at all.

[39] So since Balaam was a true Prophet and nevertheless Joshua (13:22) calls him קוסם, divine or soothsayer, it is certain that this term is also taken in a good sense: those whom the gentiles were accustomed to call soothsayers and divines were true Prophets, and those whom Scripture [5] often accuses and condemns were Pseudo-divines, who deceived the nations as the Pseudo-prophets deceived the Jews. Scripture clearly establishes this too in other passages. So we conclude that the gift of Prophecy was not peculiar to the Jews, but common to all the nations.

[10] [40] Still, the Pharisees bitterly maintain the contrary, that this divine gift was peculiar to their nation, and that the other nations predicted future affairs by I know not what diabolical power.¹⁵ What will superstition not invent? The main passage they cite, to confirm this opinion by the authority of the Old Testament, is Exodus 33:16, where Moses [15] says to God: ובמה יודע אפה¹⁶ כי מצאתי חן בעיניך אני ועמך הלא בלכתך עמנו ונפלינו אני ועמך מכל העם אשר על פני האדמה for how shall it be known that I and your people have found grace in your eyes? surely when you go with us, and we are separated, I and your people, from every people on the surface of the earth. [20] [41] From this the Pharisees want to infer that Moses asked God to be present to the Jews, to reveal himself prophetically to them, and to grant this grace to no other nation.

It’s ridiculous, of course, that Moses should envy God’s presence to the nations, or that he should have dared to ask such a thing of God. But the fact is that after Moses knew the mentality and stubborn heart [25] of his nation, he saw clearly that they could not finish what they had begun without the greatest miracles and the special external aid of God—indeed, that they would necessarily perish without such aid. To establish that God wished them to be preserved, he asked this special external aid of God. So he says in [Exodus] 34:9 if I have found grace in [30] your eyes, Lord, may the Lord go among us, since this is a stiff-necked people, etc. [42] The reason, then, why he asked this special external aid of God was that the people were stubborn. And God’s response shows even more clearly that Moses asked for nothing beyond this special external aid of God. For he immediately replied (Exodus 34:10): Behold, I make a covenant, that in the presence of your whole people I shall do wonders which [III/54] have not been done in all the earth, nor in any nation. So Moses deals here only with the choice of the Hebrews, as I have explained it, and does not ask anything else of God.

[43] Nevertheless, in Paul’s epistle to the Romans I find another text which moves me more, viz. 3:1–2, where Paul seems to teach something [5] other than what we do here. For he says what, then, is the superiority of the Jew? or what is the advantage of circumcision? it is great in every way; for the primary one is that the utterances of God were entrusted to him.

But if we attend to the doctrine which Paul mainly wants to teach, we shall find nothing contrary to our doctrine; on the contrary, we shall [10] find that he teaches the same thing we do here. For he says (3:29) that God is the God both of the Jews and of the nations, and in 2:25–26: if he who is circumcised departs from the law, his circumcision will be made a foreskin; on the other hand, if he who has a foreskin observes the commandment of the law, his foreskin will be counted as circumcision. [44] Again, in 3:9 [15] and 4:15 he says that all—the Jews and the nations equally—have been under sin, but that there is no sin without a commandment and a law.

From this it is established with the utmost clarity that the law was revealed to everyone without exception (as we have also shown above from Job 28:28), and that all have lived under the law, i.e., under that law which concerns only true virtue, and not that which is established [20] according to the nature and constitution of some particular state, and is accommodated to the mentality of one nation.

[45] Finally, Paul concludes that since God is the God of all nations, i.e., since he is equally well-disposed to all, and all were equally under the law and sin, God sent to all nations his Christ, [25] who would free all equally from bondage to the law, so that they would no longer act well because of the Law’s commandment, but because of a constant decision of the heart. So Paul teaches exactly what we require.

[46] When Paul says that the utterances of God were entrusted only to the Jews, either we must understand that only to them were the Laws entrusted in writing, but that to the other nations they were entrusted [30] only by revelation and concept,¹⁷ or we must say that (since Paul was concerned to rebut an objection which only the Jews could make) he was replying according to the power of understanding of the Jews, and the opinions then received among them. For in order to teach those things which he partly saw and partly heard, he was a Greek with the Greeks and a Jew with the Jews.¹⁸

[47] Now all that remains is to reply to certain arguments by which [III/55] they¹⁹ want to persuade themselves that the choice of the Hebrews was not for a time, and in relation only to their state, but eternal. For they say: [i] we see that after the loss of their state the Jews have survived for many years, though they were scattered everywhere and separated [5] from all the nations. This has not happened to any other Nation. And [ii] we see that in many places the Sacred Texts seem to teach that God chose the Jews unto himself to eternity. So even if they have lost their state, they remain God’s chosen people.

[48] There are two principal passages which they think teach this eternal choice most clearly: (1) Jeremiah 31:36, where the Prophet [10] testifies that the seed of Israel will remain God’s nation to eternity, evidently comparing them with the fixed order of the heavens and of nature; and (2) Ezekiel 20:32[–44], where [the Prophet] seems to claim that even though the Jews deliberately choose to abandon the worship of God, he will still gather them from all the regions into which they have been dispersed, lead them to the wilderness of the peoples (as he [15] led their ancestors to the wilderness of Egypt), and at last, after he has weeded out the rebels and the transgressors from among them, lead them from there to the mount of his holiness, where the whole house of Israel will worship him.

[49] It’s common—especially among the Pharisees—to bring up other passages besides these. But I think I will satisfy everyone if I reply to [20] these two. This I will do very easily, once I have shown from Scripture itself that God did not choose the Hebrews to eternity, but only on the same condition on which he previously chose the Canaanites. They too, as we have shown above,²⁰ had priests who worshipped God scrupulously. But God still rejected them on account of their extravagant living, their negligence, and their bad worship. [50] For in Leviticus [25] 18:27–28 Moses warns the Israelites that they should not be defiled by abominations, as the Canaanites were, lest the earth vomit them forth, as it vomited forth the nations which inhabited those places. And Deuteronomy 8:19–20 threatens them most explicitly with total ruin. For it says העדותי בכם היום כי אבד תאבדון כגוים אשר יהוה מאביד מפניכם כן תאבדון [30] I declare to you this day, that you will perish without exception; like the nations which God made perish from your presence, so you will perish. Similarly we find other passages in the Law which indicate explicitly that God did not choose the Hebrew nation unconditionally, nor to eternity.

[51] So if the Prophets predicted a new and eternal covenant of the knowledge, love, and grace of God, it is easily proven that this [III/56] was promised only to the pious. For in the chapter of Ezekiel we have just cited, it is said²¹ explicitly that God will separate the rebels and transgressors from them, and in Zephaniah 3:12–13,²² that God will remove the proud from the midst [of the people of Israel] and will let [5] the poor survive. Because this choice concerns true virtue, we must not think it was promised only to the pious among the Jews, the others being excluded. Rather we must believe that the true gentile Prophets—whom we have shown that all nations had—promised the same thing to the faithful of their Nations, and comforted them with it. [52] [10] So this eternal covenant of the knowledge and love of God is universal.

[The universality of the covenant] is also established with the utmost clarity by Zephaniah 3:10–11. So we must admit no difference in this matter between the Jews and the nations, nor is there any other election peculiar to them, beyond what we have already shown.

Granted, when the Prophets speak about this election, which concerns [15] only true virtue, they mix in many things about sacrifices and other ceremonies, and about the rebuilding of the Temple and the City. But that’s because, as was the custom in prophecy, and its nature, they wanted to explain spiritual matters in figurative expressions. That way they would at the same time indicate to the Jews, whose Prophets they were, that the restoration of the state and of the Temple was to be expected in the time of Cyrus. [53] So today the Jews have absolutely [20] nothing which they could attribute to themselves beyond all the Nations.

It’s true also that they have survived for many years, in spite of being scattered and without a state. But that is nothing to wonder at, after they separated themselves so from all the nations that they have drawn the hatred of all men against themselves, not only by having external customs contrary to the customs of the other nations, but also by the sign of circumcision, which they maintain most scrupulously.²³

[25] Moreover, experience has already taught that the hatred of the Nations has done much to preserve them. [54] Previously, when the King of Spain compelled the Jews either to accept the Religion of the Kingdom or to go into exile, a great many Jews accepted the Religion of the priests. But because all the privileges of native Spaniards were [30] granted to those who accepted that religion, and they were thought worthy of all honors, they immediately mixed themselves with the Spaniards. As a result, after a little while no traces of them remained, nor any memory. Just the opposite happened to those whom the King of Portugal compelled to accept the religion of his state. Although they converted to that religion, they always lived separated from everyone [III/57] else, presumably because he declared them unworthy of all honors.²⁴

[55] I think the sign of circumcision is also so important in this matter that I am persuaded that this one thing will preserve this Nation to eternity. Indeed, if the foundations of their religion did not make their hearts unmanly, I would absolutely believe that some day, given the opportunity, they would set up their state again, and God would [5] choose them anew. That’s how changeable human affairs are.

[56] We have another excellent example of [the importance of a distinguishing mark in preserving national identity] in the Chinese. They have most scrupulously kept a kind of tail on their head, by which they separate themselves from everyone else. Thus separated, they have preserved themselves for so many thousands of years that they far surpass [10] all other nations in antiquity. They have not always remained in charge of their state; but they have regained it when it was lost. Doubtless they will regain it again, when the hearts of the Tartars begin to grow feeble from the negligence and extravagant living of wealth.

[57] Finally, if anyone wants to maintain, for this or some other reason, that God has chosen the Jews to eternity, I won’t resist that, [15] provided he maintains that—whether this election is for a time or eternal—insofar as it is peculiar to the Jews, it concerns only their state and the advantages of the body. This is the only thing which can distinguish one Nation from another. In intellect and true virtue no nation is distinguished from any other; so in these matters God has not chosen one in preference to the others.

1. Gebhardt notes a similar passage in Meyer 1666, 22 (iii, 21).

2. The earlier passage where this has been said is probably i, 44. The other work where this has been shown is probably CM II, 9 (I/267/17ff.), though as ALM note, this compromises the anonymity of the TTP. But I do not think Spinoza would be referring to the unpublished Ethics, and as ALM also note, ADN. VI also refers to the CM.

3. **[ADN. IV] In Gen. 15[:1] it’s related that God said to Abraham that he was his defender and that he would give him a very great reward. To this Abraham replied that he could expect nothing which would be of any importance, because, though already in advanced old age, he was childless.

4. In particular, the Hebrew Bible makes no promise of eternal life in return for obedience. Lucas’s biography of Spinoza (1927) reports that one reason for the excommunication was that Spinoza denied the existence of scriptural evidence for immortality (and argued that the evidence for mortality was much stronger). Cf. i, 28. See also Nadler 2001.

5. In xx, 12, Spinoza will claim that the end of the state is really freedom (ALM). See the annotation there for more on this.

6. **[ADN. V] From Mark 10:21 it’s evident that observing the commandments of the Old Testament does not suffice for eternal life. [In Mark 10:17–22 a rich man asks Jesus what he needs to do to inherit eternal life. Jesus first says he must keep the commandments. When the rich man says he has done that, Jesus replies that he lacks one thing: he must sell what he owns, give the money to the poor, and follow Jesus. For useful discussion of the history of the interpretations of this challenging verse, see Anchor Mark, II, 727–30. There are parallel versions, with interesting variations, in Matt. 19:16–22 and Luke 18:18–25.]

7. Bennett notes the shift in this paragraph from talk about goods “promised” for obedience to the laws to talk about “punishments predicted” for disobedience. Given the impersonality of Spinoza’s conception of God, his identification (in iii, 7) of God’s activity with the operation of the laws of nature, and his denial in the next chapter that God can be a lawgiver, the language of prediction can be taken more literally than the language of promises and threats.

8. Kirchmann (1871, 25–26) accused Spinoza of a gross error for identifying Melchizedek as the king of Jerusalem, when Gen. 14:18 identifies him as the king of Salem. He supposed Jerusalem to have been built much later, by David. ALM suggest that Spinoza is relying on a tradition which goes back to Josephus (Antiquities I, x, 2), according to which Salem was later called Jerusalem. But Spinoza may have been relying on the biblical passage which was probably the ultimate basis for Josephus’s claim, Ps. 76:2.

9. Some translations have put verse 11 in the future tense, e.g., the KJV: “my name shall be great among the Gentiles; and in every place incense shall be offered unto my name, and a pure offering: for my name shall be great among the heathen, saith the LORD of hosts.” And some Christian readers have thus interpreted Malachi as prophesying the worldwide worship of the Christian church. The Vulgate, the NRSV, and the NJPS translation put verse 11 in the present tense. For discussion, see Anchor Malachi, 218–19.

10. Gebhardt has 29:28 here, which is clearly wrong. Droetto/Giancotti correct to 28:28, calling attention to III/54/18.

11. ALM point out that support can be found in the Talmud for the possibility of prophets among the gentiles, and of Hebrew prophets to the gentiles. See Baba Bathra 15b. But it seems that there was strong opposition to the idea among Spinoza’s Jewish contemporaries. See iii, 40, and the annotation there.

12. Num. 24:16, cf. 24:4.

13. Num. 24:13, cf. 22:18.

14. Spinoza follows the numbering of the Hebrew Bible here. The reference is to Deut. 23:5.

15. Ibn Ezra (1988) denied that there were heathen prophets and that Balaam was a prophet. See his commentary on Deut. 13:2 and Num. 22:28. He maintains that Balaam was a diviner who made use of astrology. Rashi’s commentary (1960) on Exod. 33:16–17 allows that Balaam was a prophet, and that there were other heathen prophets, but denies that Balaam was able to prophesy because the glory of the Lord rested on him. He contends that the heathen prophets heard God’s message “through a medium.”

16. MT: אפוא.

17. Presumably there is a reference here to the Pauline doctrine that the law is written in the hearts of the gentiles (Rom. 2:15).

18. See 1 Cor. 9:19–23, cited again in vi, 36, and xi, 23.

19. Spinoza does not make his subject explicit here. From §40 we might suppose he is speaking only of the Pharisees. But the beginning of §49 suggests that he means Jews generally, and especially the Pharisees. Gebhardt V, 28, notes that Rabbi Morteira, one of Spinoza’s teachers, had defended the eternity of the Jews’ election in Providençia de Dios con Israel. He thinks the passage to follow must have its origins in the defense of his opinions Spinoza is reported to have written after the excommunication.

20. The reference is probably to iii, 23–24.

21. God is presented as saying this in Ezek. 20:38.

22. As the verses are normally divided now, the reference should be to verses 11–12. Once again it is God who is reported as saying this.

23. Cf. Tacitus on the history of the Jews (Histories V, 2–5).

24. On the history of the persecutions of the Jews on the Iberian peninsula, see Roth 1947 and Kamen 1997. Roth thinks there was more assimilation in Spain because when Ferdinand forced the Jews to choose between baptism and exile, the more devout Jews fled to Portugal; those who remained were the less committed. But Spinoza is mistaken in saying that in Spain the conversos, or “new Christians,” were thought worthy of all honors. As Méchoulan 1984 points out, the purity of blood legislation there made a significant distinction between them and “old Christians.” And as he also notes, it’s surprising that Spinoza makes this mistake, since he should have known about the discrimination against them, if not from his contact with Spanish refugees in the Netherlands, then from one of the stories in Cervantes’ Novelas exemplares, which he had in his library. For a detailed account of the cult of limpieza del sangre, see Kamen 1997, ch. 11.

[III/57] CHAPTER IV

Of the Divine Law

[1] The word law, taken without qualification,¹ means that according to which each individual, or all or some members of the same species, act [25] in one and the same fixed and determinate way. This depends either on a necessity of nature or on a human decision. A law which depends on a necessity of nature is one which follows necessarily from the very nature or definition of a thing. One which depends on a human decision, and which is more properly called legislation, is one which men prescribe for themselves and others, for the sake of living more safely [30] and conveniently, or for some other causes.

[2] For example, it is a universal law of all bodies, which follows from a necessity of nature, that a body which strikes against another [III/58] lesser body loses as much of its motion as it communicates to the other body.² Similarly, it is a law which necessarily follows from human nature that when a man recalls one thing, he immediately recalls another like it, or one he had perceived together with the first thing. But [the law] that men should yield, or be compelled to yield, the right they have [5] from nature, and bind themselves to a fixed way of living, depends on a human decision.

[3] Though I grant, without reservation, that everything is determined by the universal laws of nature to exist and produce effects in a fixed and determinate way, nevertheless I have two reasons for saying that laws of this second kind depend on a decision of men. First,

[10] because insofar as man is a part of nature, he constitutes part of the power of nature. So the things which follow from the necessity of human nature—i.e., from nature itself insofar as we conceive it to be determinate through human nature—still follow, even though by necessity, from human power.

That’s why we can say quite properly that the enactment of those [15] laws depends on a decision of men: it depends mainly on the power of the human mind, but in such a way that the human mind, insofar as it perceives things as either true or false, can be conceived quite clearly without these laws [that depend on a human decision], although it cannot be conceived without a necessary law, as we have just defined it.

[4] Second, I have also said that these laws depend on a human decision

[20] because we ought to define and explain things through their proximate causes. That universal consideration concerning fate and the connection of causes cannot help us to form and order our thoughts concerning particular things.

Furthermore, we are completely ignorant of the order and connection [25] of things itself, i.e., of how things are really ordered and connected. So for practical purposes it is better, indeed necessary, to consider things as possible. These remarks will suffice concerning law, taken without qualification.

[5] But since the word law seems to be applied figuratively to natural [30] things, and commonly nothing is understood by law but a command which men can either carry out or neglect—since law confines human power under certain limits, beyond which that power extends, and does not command anything beyond human powers—for that reason Law seems to need to be defined more particularly: that it is a principle of living man prescribes to himself or to others for some end.

[6] Nevertheless, since the true end of laws is usually evident only [III/59] to a few, and since most men are almost incapable of perceiving it, and do anything but live according to reason, legislators, to confine all men equally, have wisely established another end, very different from the one which necessarily follows from the nature of laws: they promise those [5] who support the laws what the common people most love, and they threaten those who would break the laws with what they most fear. In this way they have tried, as far as they could, to restrain the common people, as you might rein in a horse.

[7] That’s why law is generally taken to be a principle of living prescribed to men by the command of others,³ and why those who [10] obey the laws are said to live under the law, and seem to be slaves. And really, whoever gives each one his due because he fears the gallows does act according to the command of another and is coerced by evil. He cannot be called just. But the person who gives to each his due because he knows the true reason for the laws and their necessity, that [15] person acts from a constant heart, and by his own decision, not that of another. So he deserves to be called just.⁴

[8] I think Paul also wanted to teach this when he said that those who live under the law could not be justified by the law [Romans 3:19–20]. For justice is commonly defined as a constant and perpetual will to [20] give to everyone his due.⁵ So Solomon says in Proverbs 21:15 that the Just man rejoices when a Judgment is made, but the unjust are terrified.⁶

[9] Since, therefore, Law is nothing but a principle of living which men prescribe to themselves or to others for some end, it seems that Law must be distinguished into human and divine. By human law I understand a principle of living which serves only to protect life and [25] the republic; by a divine law, one which aims only at the supreme good, i.e., the true knowledge and love of God. I call this law divine because of the nature of the supreme good, which I shall show here as briefly and clearly as I can.

[10] If we really want to seek our advantage, then since the intellect [30] is the better part of us, we should certainly strive above all to perfect it as much as we can. For our supreme good must consist in the perfection of the intellect. Next, because nothing can either be or be conceived without God, and because we can doubt everything so [III/60] long as we have no clear and distinct idea of God, all our knowledge, and the certainty which really removes all doubt, depends only on the knowledge of God. It follows that our supreme good and perfection depend only on the knowledge of God, etc.

[11] Next, since nothing can be or be conceived without God, it is certain that all things in nature involve and express the concept of [5] God, in proportion to their essence and perfection. Hence the more we know natural things, the greater and more perfect is the knowledge of God we acquire—or, since knowledge of an effect through its cause is nothing but knowing some property of the cause, the more we know [10] natural things, the more perfectly we know God’s essence, which is the cause of all things. [12] So all our knowledge, i.e., our supreme good, not only depends on the knowledge of God, but consists entirely in it.

That knowledge of God is our supreme good also follows from the fact that a man is more perfect in proportion to the nature and perfection [15] of the thing which he loves before all others, and conversely. Therefore, the man who is necessarily the most perfect and who participates most in supreme blessedness is the one who loves above all else the intellectual knowledge of God, the most perfect being, and takes the greatest pleasure in that knowledge. Our supreme good, then, and our blessedness come back to this: the knowledge and love of God.

[20] [13] We can call the means required by this end of all human actions—i.e., God, insofar as his idea is in us—God’s commands, because God himself, insofar as he exists in our mind, prescribes them to us, as it were. So the principle of living which aims at this end is quite properly [25] called a Divine law. But what these means are, and what principle of living this end requires, and how the foundations of the best republic and the principle of living among men follow from this,⁷ these matters all pertain to a universal Ethics. Here I shall proceed to treat only of the divine law in general.

[14] Since, then, the love of God is man’s highest happiness and [30] blessedness, and the ultimate end and object of all human actions, the only one who follows the divine law is the one who devotes himself to loving God, not from fear of punishment, nor from love for another thing, such as pleasures or reputation, etc., but only because he knows God, or because he knows that the knowledge and love of God is the highest good.

[15] So the main point of the divine law, and its highest precept, [III/61] is to love God as the highest good, as we have said, not from fear of some punishment or penalty, nor from love of some other thing, in which we desire to take pleasure. For the idea of God dictates this: that God is our supreme good, or that the knowledge and love of God [5] is the ultimate end toward which all our actions ought to be directed.⁸

[16] In spite of this, the man of the flesh⁹ cannot understand these things. To him they seem hollow, because he has too meager a knowledge of God, and finds nothing in this highest good to touch or eat or affect the flesh, which is what gives him his greatest pleasure. This good consists only in contemplation and in a pure mind. But those who [10] know that they have nothing more excellent than the intellect and a healthy mind will doubtless judge these things very solid.

[17] We have explained, therefore, what the divine law consists in above all, and what laws are human, viz. all those which aim at something other [than the knowledge of God]—unless they have been enacted by revelation. For as we have shown above, that is another reason why we [15] may refer things to God. It’s in this sense that the law of Moses, although not universal, but accommodated for the most part to the mentality and special preservation of one people, can still be called God’s Law, or divine Law. For we believe it was enacted by the Prophetic light.

[20] [18] If now we attend to the Nature of natural divine law, as we have just explained it, we shall see:

I. that it is universal, or common to all men,

for we have deduced it from universal human nature; and

II. that it does not require faith in historical narratives, no matter what, in the end, those narratives are.¹⁰

For since this natural divine law is understood simply by the consideration [25] of human nature, it is certain that we can conceive it just as much in Adam as in any other man, just as much in a man who lives among others as in a man who lives a solitary life.

[19] Furthermore, faith in historical narratives, no matter how certain that faith may be, cannot give us any knowledge of God. So [30] it also cannot give us the love of God. For love of God arises from knowledge of him, and knowledge of God must be drawn from common notions certain and known through themselves. So it is far from true that faith in historical narratives is necessary for us to attain our supreme good.

Nevertheless, though faith in historical narratives cannot give us the knowledge and love of God, we do not deny that reading them is very [III/62] useful in relation to civil life. For the more we have observed and the better we know the customs and character of men—which can best be known from their actions—the more cautiously we will be able to live among them and the better we will be able to accommodate our actions [5] and lives to their mentality, as much as reason allows.

[20] [Again, if we attend to the nature of natural divine law], we see

III. that it does not require ceremonies, i.e., actions which in themselves are indifferent, and are called good only by institution, or which represent some good necessary for salvation, or, if you prefer, actions whose reason surpasses man’s power of understanding.

[10] For the natural light requires nothing that light itself does not reach, but only what can indicate to us very clearly a good, or a means to our blessedness.¹¹ The things which are good only by command and institution, or because they are representations of some good, cannot perfect our intellect and are nothing but mere shadows. They cannot [15] be counted among the actions which are, as it were, the offspring or fruits of the intellect and of a healthy mind. But there is no need to show this more fully here.

[21] Finally, [if we attend to the nature of natural divine law] we see

IV. that the highest reward for observing the divine law is the law itself, viz. to know God and to love him from true freedom and with a whole and [20] constant heart, whereas the penalty for not observing it is the privation of these things and bondage to the flesh, or an inconstant and vacillating heart.

[22] With these things noted, we must now ask:

(i) whether, by the natural light, we can conceive God as a lawgiver, or prince prescribing laws to men?¹²

(ii) what Sacred Scripture teaches concerning this natural light and natural law?

(iii) to what end ceremonies were formerly instituted? and finally,

[25] (iv) why it matters whether we know the sacred historical narratives and believe in them?

I shall treat the first two of these questions in this chapter [§§23–37 and 38–50], and the last two in the next chapter [§§2–34 and 35–50].

[23] We can easily deduce what we must maintain in answer to the first question from the nature of God’s will, which is distinguished from his intellect only in relation to our reason. That is, in themselves God’s [30] will and God’s intellect are really one and the same; they are distinguished only in relation to the thoughts we form about God’s intellect.¹³

[24] For example, when we attend only to the fact that the nature of a triangle is contained in the divine nature from eternity, as an eternal truth, then we say that God has the idea of the triangle, or understands [III/63] the nature of the triangle. But afterward we may attend to the fact that the nature of the triangle is contained in the divine nature solely from the necessity of the divine nature, and not from the necessity of the essence and nature of the triangle—indeed, that the necessity of the essence and properties of the triangle, insofar as they too are conceived [5] as eternal truths, depends only on the necessity of the divine nature and intellect, and not on the nature of the triangle. When we do that, then the same thing we called God’s intellect we call God’s will or decree.

[25] So in relation to God we affirm one and the same thing when we say that from eternity God decreed and willed that the three angles of a triangle are equal to two right angles, or [when we say] that God [10] understood this. From this it follows that God’s affirmations and denials always involve eternal necessity or truth.¹⁴

[26] So, for example, if God said to Adam that he willed him not to eat of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil [Genesis 2:17], it would imply a contradiction for Adam to be able to eat of that tree. So [15] it would be impossible for him to eat of it. That divine decree would have had to involve eternal necessity and truth. But since Scripture nevertheless relates that God did tell Adam not to eat of the tree, and that Adam nevertheless ate of the tree, we must say that God only revealed to Adam the evil which would necessarily befall him if he ate of that tree, but not the necessity of that evil’s following.¹⁵

[27] That’s how it happened that Adam perceived that revelation, [20] not as an eternal and necessary truth, but as a law, i.e., as something instituted, which profit or loss follows, not from the necessity and nature of the action performed, but solely from the pleasure and absolute [25] command of some Prince. So that revelation was a law, and God, as it were, a lawgiver or Prince, only in relation to Adam, and because of a defect in his knowledge.

[28] That’s also why the Decalogue was a law only in relation to the Hebrews, because of a defect in their knowledge. For since they did not know God’s existence as an eternal truth, they had to perceive as a law [30] what was revealed to them in the Decalogue: that God exists and that he alone is to be worshipped. If God had spoken to them immediately, without using any corporeal means, they would have perceived this, not as a law, but as an eternal truth.

[29] What we say about the Israelites and Adam must also be said [III/64] about all the Prophets who wrote laws in the name of God: they did not perceive God’s decrees adequately, as eternal truths. For example, we must say even of Moses himself that by revelation, or from the foundations revealed to him, he perceived the way the people of Israel could [5] best be united in a certain region of the world, and could form a whole social order, or set up a state. He also perceived the way that people could best be compelled to obedience. But he did not perceive, and it was not revealed to him, that that way is best—or even that the goal they were aiming at would necessarily follow from the general obedience [10] of the people in such a region of the world. [30] So he perceived all these things, not as eternal truths, but as precepts and institutions, and he prescribed them as laws of God. That’s why he imagined God as a ruler, a lawgiver, a king, as compassionate, just, etc., when all these things are attributes only of human nature, and ought to be removed [15] entirely from the divine nature.¹⁶

But I say this only about the Prophets, who wrote laws in the name of God, and not about Christ. [31] For however much Christ too may seem to have written laws in the name of God, nevertheless we must think that he perceived things truly and adequately. Christ was not so much a Prophet as the mouth of God. As we have shown in [20] Chapter 1, God revealed certain things to the human race through the mind of Christ, as previously he had revealed them through Angels, i.e., through a created voice, visions, etc. It would be as contrary to reason to maintain that God accommodated his revelations to Christ’s opinions as to maintain that previously, to communicate the things to be revealed to his prophets, God accommodated his revelations to the [25] angels’ opinions, i.e., those of a created voice and of visions. No one could maintain anything more absurd than that—particularly since Christ was sent to teach, not only the Jews, but the whole human race. So it was not enough for him to have a mind accommodated only to the opinions of the Jews; [he needed a mind accommodated] to the [30] opinions and teachings universal to the human race, i.e., to common and true notions.¹⁷

[32] And of course, from the fact that God revealed himself immediately to Christ, or to his mind—and not, as he did to the Prophets, through words and images—the only thing we can understand is that Christ perceived truly, or understood, the things revealed. For what is perceived with a pure mind, without words and images, is understood.

[III/65] Christ, therefore, perceived the things revealed truly and adequately. [33] If he ever prescribed them as laws, he did this because of the people’s ignorance and stubbornness. So in this respect he acted in place of God, because he accommodated himself to the mentality of [5] the people. That’s why, although he spoke somewhat more clearly than the other Prophets, he still taught these revelations obscurely, and quite frequently through parables, especially when he was speaking to those to whom it was not yet given to understand the kingdom of heaven (see Matthew 13:10 etc.).¹⁸ [34] But doubtless when he was speaking to those to whom it was given to know the mysteries of the heavens, [10] he taught things as eternal truths and did not prescribe them as laws. In this way he freed them from bondage to the law. Nevertheless, he [didn’t abolish the law for them, but] confirmed and established it more firmly, and wrote it thoroughly in their hearts.

Paul also seems to teach this in certain passages. See Romans 7:6 [15] and 3:28. [35] Still, he too did not wish to speak openly, but as he says (Romans 3:5 and 6:19) he speaks in a human manner. He says this explicitly when he calls God just. Doubtless it is also because of the weakness of the flesh that he ascribes mercy, grace, anger, etc., to God, and accommodates his words to the mentality of ordinary people, or [20] (as he also says in 1 Cor. 3:1–2) of men of the flesh.

[36] For Romans 9:18 teaches without reservation that God’s anger and mercy do not depend on human works, but only on God’s calling, i.e., on his will; next, Romans 3:28 teaches that no one becomes just [25] by the works of the law, but by faith alone, by which, of course, he understands nothing but a full consent of the heart; finally, Romans 8:9 teaches that no one becomes blessed unless he has in himself the mind of Christ, by which he perceives God’s laws as eternal truths.

[37] From this we conclude

[i] that it is only because of the common people’s power of understanding and a defect in their knowledge¹⁹ that God is described as a lawgiver or [30] prince, and called just, merciful, etc.;

[ii] that God really acts and guides all things only from the necessity of his own nature and perfection; and finally,

[iii] that his decrees and volitions are eternal truths, and always involve necessity.

That is what I had decided to explain and show under the first [of the four headings enumerated in §22].

[38] Let us turn then to the second question, and survey Holy [III/66] Scripture to see what it teaches concerning the natural light and this divine law. The first thing which strikes us is the story²⁰ of the first man, where it is related that God told Adam not to eat the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil [Genesis 2:17]. This seems to [5] mean that God told Adam to do and seek the good for the sake of the good, and not insofar as it is contrary to the evil, i.e., that he should seek the good from love of the good, and not from fear of evil.²¹ For as we’ve already shown,²² he who does good from a true knowledge and love of the good acts freely and with a constant heart, whereas he who acts from fear of evil is compelled by evil, acts like a slave, and lives under the command of another.

[10] [39] And so this one thing which God told²³ Adam to do contains the whole divine natural law, and agrees absolutely with the dictate of the natural light. It would not be difficult to explain that whole story, or parable, of the first man from this foundation. But I prefer to put this to one side, not only because I cannot be absolutely certain that [15] my explanation agrees with the writer’s intention, but also because most people will not grant that this story is a parable, but maintain without qualification that it is a simple record of fact.

[40] It will be better, therefore, to call attention to other passages in Scripture, especially those which were composed by one who spoke from the power of the natural light, in which he surpassed all the other wise [20] men of his age, and whose maxims the people have embraced as being as holy as those of the Prophets. I mean Solomon, who is commended in the sacred writings, not so much for his Prophecy and piety, as for his prudence and wisdom.

[41] In his Proverbs Solomon calls the human understanding the fountain of true life and makes misfortune consist only in foolishness. [25] Thus he says in 16:22 מקור חיים שכל בעליו ומוסר אוילים אולת Understanding is a fountain of life to its lord,²⁴* and the punishment of fools is folly.²⁵ It should be noted here that in Hebrew true life is understood when life is used without qualification, as is evident from Deuteronomy 30:19. Therefore, he made the fruit of understanding consist only in true life, and punishment only in the privation of understanding. This agrees [30] completely with what we have noted above [III/62/17–21] concerning the natural divine law. Moreover, this same wise man teaches expressly that this fountain of life (or, as we have also shown, understanding alone) [III/67] prescribes laws to the wise. For he says in Proverbs 13:14 תורת חכם מקור חיים The Law²⁶ of the wise (is) the fountain of life, i.e., as is evident from the text just adduced, understanding [is the fountain of life].

[42] Again, in 3:13 he teaches very explicitly that understanding makes man blessed and happy, and gives him true peace of mind. For [5] he says אשרי אדם מצא חכמה ובן אדם ²⁷ יפיק תבונה וגו ארך ימים בימינה בשמאלה עשר וכבוד דרכיה דרכי נעם וכל נתיבותיה שלום Blessed is the man who has found 'knowledge, and the son of the man who has brought forth understanding. The reason for this (as he continues in vv. 16–17) is that it gives length of days²⁸* directly, and indirectly wealth and honor; its ways (i.e., those which [10] 'knowledge indicates) are pleasant, and all its paths are peace. According to Solomon only the wise live with a constant and peaceful heart, unlike the impious, whose heart vacillates with opposite affects, to such an extent that (as Isaiah too says in 57:20) they have neither peace nor rest.

[43] Finally, what we must note most in these Proverbs of Solomon [15] are those in the second chapter, which confirm our opinion as clearly as possible. For 2:3 begins thus:

כי אם לבינה תקרא לתבונה תתן קולך וגו אז תבין יראת יהוה ודעת אלהים תמצא כי יהוה יתן חכמה מפיו דעת ותבונה for if you will call out for prudence, and lift up your [20] voice for understanding, etc., then you will understand the fear of God, and you will find the 'knowledge (or rather, love, for the word ידע yadah means both these things) of God; for (NB) God grants wisdom, from his mouth 'knowledge and prudence (flow out).

[44] By these words he indicates very clearly (i) that only wisdom, or understanding teaches us to fear God wisely, i.e., to worship God [25] with true religion; and he teaches (ii) that wisdom and 'knowledge flow from the mouth of God, and that God grants them. This is what we ourselves have shown above,²⁹ viz. that our understanding and our 'knowledge depend only on the idea or knowledge of God, arise only from it, and are perfected only by it.

[45] He proceeds next (in 2:9) to teach very explicitly that this [30] 'knowledge contains the true Ethics and Politics and that they are deduced from it:³⁰

אז תבין צדק ומשפט ומשרים כל מעגל טוב then you will understand Justice, and Judgment, and the right ways, (and) every good path. Not content with that, he continues: כי תבוא חכמה בלבך ודעת לנפשך ינעם מזמה תשמור עליך תבונה תנצרכה [III/68] when 'knowledge shall enter into your heart, and wisdom shall be pleasant to you, then your providence³¹* will watch over you and prudence will guard you.

[46] All these things are entirely consistent with natural 'knowledge. For that knowledge teaches Ethics and true excellence, after we have acquired knowledge of things and tasted the excellence of 'knowledge. [5] So Solomon agrees that the happiness and peace of one who cultivates the natural understanding does not depend on the rule of fortune (i.e., on God’s external aid), but chiefly on his internal excellence (i.e., on God’s internal aid), because he preserves himself chiefly by being watchful, by acting, and by planning well.

[10] [47] Finally, we must not by any means pass over that passage in Paul (Romans 1:20) where he says (as Tremellius³² translates from the Syriac text): for from the foundations of the world, God’s hidden things are visible in his creatures through the understanding, and his power and divinity, which are to eternity; so they are without escape.³³ [48] By this he indicates clearly [15] enough that everyone, by the natural light, clearly understands God’s power and eternal divinity, from which he can know and deduce what he ought to pursue and what he ought to flee. Hence he concludes that no one has any escape and none can be excused by their ignorance, as they certainly could be, if he were speaking of the supernatural light, [20] and of the fleshly passion of Christ and his resurrection etc. [49] That’s why he continues a bit further on (1:24) as follows: for this reason God gave them up to the unclean lusts of their hearts etc. to the end of the chapter, in verses which describe the vices of ignorance, and expound them as punishments for ignorance.

This agrees completely with that Proverb of Solomon we’ve already [25] cited, 16:22, according to which ומוסר אוילים אולת the punishment of fools is foolishness. [50] So it’s no wonder that Paul says that evildoers are inexcusable. For as each one sows, so shall he reap [Galatians 6:7]. From evil deeds evils necessarily follow, unless they are wisely corrected, and from good deeds, goods necessarily follow, if they are accompanied by constancy of heart.³⁴ Scripture, therefore, commends, without reservation, [30] both the natural light and the natural divine law. And with this I have finished the things I had proposed to treat in this chapter.

1. I take it that here Spinoza is offering a definition of “law” in the most general sense of that term, which covers both the two kinds of law he is about to distinguish: descriptive laws, true in virtue of natural necessity, and prescriptive laws, valid because of human decisions. The laws of nature (of physics and of psychology) exemplify the first kind of laws; the laws of human societies, which establish principles according to which men agree to live, exemplify the second. In iv, 5, Spinoza seems to privilege the second kind of law, saying that this is what men commonly mean by the term, that the term “law” is applied only figuratively to laws of the first kind, and that the term “law” seems to need to be defined more particularly, as a principle of living men prescribe to themselves. But I agree with Rutherford 2010 that the first type of law is more basic, in that the necessary laws of human nature explain why men prescribe to themselves the laws they do. If Spinoza gives preference in §5 to the definition of laws as prescriptions, I think that is primarily because that is the sense of “law” which is most relevant to this chapter. But in Chapter VI, it is the definition of laws as statements of natural necessity which will be most relevant.

2. This is roughly Descartes’ third law of motion. Cf. his Principles of Philosophy II, 40.

3. Cf. Hobbes, DC vi, 9.

4. Cf. Hobbes, Leviathan xv, 10.

5. As Hobbes notes (Leviathan xv, 3), this is the common scholastic definition of justice, defended, for example, by Aquinas, ST II-IIae, qu. lviii, art. 1. In DC iii, 5, Hobbes also gives an account of what it is for a man to be just which is like (but not identical with) Spinoza’s.

6. In x, 4, Spinoza will implicitly reject the attribution of Proverbs to Solomon.

7. Reading hinc for hunc here (following a suggestion of Wernham’s).

8. A central theme in Spinoza, to which he will return in the last half of Part V of the Ethics.

9. Homo carnalis. An allusion to St. Paul. Cf. Romans (6:19, 7:5, 18, 25) or 1 Cor. 3:1–3.

10. Spinoza does not spell out the implications of this position, but on its face it excludes a doctrine common in Christianity, that belief in certain historical facts about Jesus—that he was the son of God, whose sacrificial death on the cross redeemed mankind from sin—is both a necessary and a sufficient condition for salvation. Cf. John 3:16–18.

11. This formula provides an interesting gloss on the definition of “good” in E IV D1, answering a question that definition does not address: For what end is the good useful to us?

12. For an alternate version of this argument, see KV II, xxiv, 4 (Volume I, p. 142). See also E II P3S, ADN. XXXIV at xvi, 53 (III/198/13), and TP ii, 22.

13. This is a common medieval doctrine—cf. Maimonides Guide I, 53; Aquinas, ST I, 3—also advocated by Descartes. See his letter to Mersenne, 6 May 1630 (where the formulation nevertheless seems to give a certain priority to God’s will). But since Spinoza’s Ethics denies both will and intellect to God (E I P31), his argument here may be ad hominem.

14. ALM note that this claim will reappear in xix, 18, where it becomes a ground for claiming that the teachings of religion do not acquire the force of a command immediately from God, but only from the civil sovereign. Cf. TP ii, 22, where Spinoza explains a sense in which man can act contrary to God’s decrees.

15. I take Spinoza’s point in this paragraph to be that, contrary to the usual way of reading Gen. 2:15-17, we should not interpret that passage as reporting that God commanded Adam not to eat of the tree, i.e., expressing a volition that Adam not eat from the tree. Spinoza thinks it involves a contradiction for an omnipotent being to command one of his creatures not to do something which the creature then does. On a proper understanding of omnipotence, it is impossible for an omnipotent being to will something – something logically possible, at least – which does not happen. So if God really had commanded Adam not to eat from the tree, Adam would not have eaten its fruit.

The passage in Genesis does contain a form of words naturally understood as expressing an imperative: e.g., (in the New JPS translation) “you must not eat of the tree.” But imperatives do not always express commands; sometimes they express counsel. (Cf. Hobbes, DCv, iv, 1; Leviathan xxv, 1-3) The fact that God does not simply tell Adam to refrain, relying only on that’s being his will, but offers a reason for refraining which involves a benefit to Adam ("in the day that you eat of it, you shall die"), arguably makes this counsel rather than command. Spinoza’s language in l. 17 – Scriptura . . . narrat, Deum id Adamo praecepisse – admits both these possibilities, since a praeceptum can be either advice or an order. Of course, laws are normally accompanied by penalties which must be paid if they are broken, but those penalties normally depend on the contingent will of the lawmaker, not natural necessity.

Note that when Spinoza returns to this topic in §§38–39, he offers a different reading, and expresses doubt that he has understood the intention of the writer of Genesis.

16. Spinoza reiterates his opposition to anthropomorphic conceptions of God. As ALM note, the term “attribute” is not used here in the technical sense it has in the Ethics. Cf. KV I, vii.

17. But in i, 22, Spinoza did seem to attribute supernatural knowledge to Christ.

18. The passage cited is one which suggests that Jesus had an esoteric teaching intended to be understood only by the few. This seems difficult to reconcile with Spinoza’s earlier claim that Christ was sent to teach the whole human race. Cf. iii, 45; iv, 31.

19. Reading cognitionis (with Wernham), in preference to Gebhardt’s cogitationis. Cf. III/63/25–29. Glazemaker has kennis.

20. Gebhardt (V, 33) notes various authors who interpreted the story of the fall as a parable (e.g., Philo, Allegory of the Laws I, 100–108 [in Philo, Works]; Maimonides Guide II, 3), and others who interpreted it as historical (e.g., Ibn Ezra and Calvin).

21. For Spinoza’s other discussions of the fall, E IV P68S, V P42, Letter 19 (IV/90), and TP ii, 6.

22. Perhaps the reference is to ii, 46–47, or iii, 45, or iv, 15.

23. Accepting Wernham’s suggestion that we should read praecepit.

24. *This is a Hebraism. He who has some thing or contains it in his nature is called the Lord of that thing. Thus a bird is called in Hebrew the Lord of wings, because it has wings. One who understands is called the Lord of the intellect, because he has understanding.

25. Bennett notes that the Vulgate and the King James Version render this verse: “the instruction of fools is folly.” The ambiguity of the Hebrew (מוסר) makes this a possible translation, with the idea that it is foolish to listen to what fools teach. But more modern translations (e.g., the NRSV, the NJPS) tend to translate this verse as Spinoza does, with the idea that foolish people do foolish things, and that the foolishness of their behavior is a sufficient punishment for their folly. Spinoza will return to this verse at the end of the chapter [§§49–50], and gloss it significantly.

26. So Spinoza translates תורה here, and so did the KJV. More recent translations prefer teaching (NRSV) or instruction (NJPS).

27. Where Spinoza has ובן אדם, MT has simply ואדם.

28. *A Hebraism, which signifies nothing but life.

29. Cf. i, 4–5.

30. Wernham suggests reading ex ea easdem deduci. Whether the text needs emendation or not, it certainly must be translated as if that is what we had.

31. *Strictly speaking, מזמה mezima means thought, deliberation, and vigilance.

32. On Tremellius, see the annotation at III/3.

33. In the NRSV the passage from Romans reads: “Ever since the creation of the world his eternal power and divine nature, invisible though they are, have been understood and seen through the things he has made. So they are without excuse.” The prima facie difference between this more familiar translation and Tremellius’s version may cause some to doubt whether Spinoza may have been misled in his understanding of Paul by a bad translation. But it’s evident from his discussion of this text that he regards Tremellius’s sine effugio (without escape) as entailing that the people so characterized are inexcusable. A more serious question is whether Spinoza’s reading of Romans here is consistent with the position he ascribes to Paul in xvi, 6 and 53.

34. Note the qualifications Spinoza attaches to the doctrine that as we sow, so shall we reap. The generalizations that good deeds lead to good results, and evil deeds to bad results, hold only subject to certain conditions.

[III/69] CHAPTER V

The Reason why ceremonies were instituted, and on faith in historical narratives, for what reason and for whom it is necessary

[1] In the preceding Chapter we have shown that the divine law, which [5] renders men truly blessed, and teaches a true life, is universal to all men. We have deduced this from human nature in such a way that we must think that it itself is innate to, and as it were, written in the human mind. [2] But ceremonies—at least those treated in the Old Testament—were instituted only for the Hebrews, and were so adapted to their state that [10] for the most part they could be performed only by the whole society, not by each person. So it’s certain that they do not pertain to the divine law, and make no contribution to blessedness and virtue, but concern only the election of the Hebrews—i.e., as we have shown in Ch. 3 [§§6–21], [15] only the temporal happiness of the body and the peace of the state. For that reason, they could be useful only so long as their state lasted.

[3] Therefore, if the Old Testament referred those ceremonies to the law of God, that was only because they were instituted by revelation or from revealed foundations. But because most Theologians do not [20] value reason highly, even when it is very solid, I want to prove what we have just shown by the authority of Scripture as well. Then, for greater lucidity, I want to show why and how the ceremonies served to stabilize and preserve the Jewish state.

[4] [As for the first point,] Isaiah teaches nothing more clearly than that the divine law, taken without qualification, means that universal [25] law which consists in the true manner of living, but not in ceremonies. For when the Prophet calls his nation to hear the divine Law from him (Isaiah 1:10), he first excludes from it all kinds of sacrifices, and then all festivals. Only then does he teach the law itself (see vv. 16–17), [30] summing it up briefly as consisting in the purification of the heart, in the performance (or habitual practice) of virtue (or of good actions), and finally, in giving aid to the poor.¹

[5] No less clear is the testimony of Psalm 40:7, 9,² for here the Psalmist addresses God:

[III/70] זבח ומנחה לא חפצת אזנים כרית לי עולה וחטאה לא שאלת לעשות רצונך אלהי חפצתי ותורתך בתוך מעי you did not want sacrifice and offering, you have opened my ears,³* you did not ask for a burnt offering or an offering for sin; I have wanted to follow your will, my God; for your law is in my inmost parts.

[5] Therefore, he calls the law of God only that which is written in the inmost parts, or in the mind, and he excludes ceremonies from it. For they are good only by institution, and not by nature; so they are not written in minds. In addition to these there are still other passages in Scripture which testify to the same thing. But it’s enough to have mentioned these two.

[6] [As for the second point,] Scripture itself also establishes that ceremonies contribute nothing to blessedness, but only concern the [10] temporal prosperity of the state. For it promises nothing in return for ceremonies except the advantages and pleasures of the body, and promises blessedness only in return for following the universal divine law. For in the five books commonly attributed to Moses⁴ nothing else is promised (as we have said above [iii, 19]) than this temporal [15] prosperity, i.e., honors or reputation, victories, wealth, pleasures and health.

[7] And although those five books contain, in addition to ceremonies, many precepts related to morals, nevertheless they do not contain those precepts as moral teachings, universal to all men, but as commands especially [20] accommodated to the grasp and mentality of the Hebrew nation, and so as commands which concern only the advantage of the state. For example, Moses does not teach the Jews as a teacher or Prophet that they should not kill or steal, but commands these things as a lawgiver and prince. For he does not prove these teachings by reason, but adds [25] a penalty to the commands, which can and must vary according to the mentality of each nation, as experience has sufficiently taught.

[8] Similarly, the command not to commit adultery concerns only the advantage of the republic and the state. For if he had wanted to teach this as a moral teaching, which concerns not only the advantage of the republic, but also the peace of mind and true blessedness of [30] each person, he would not condemn only the external action, but also the consent of the mind itself, as Christ did, who taught only universal teachings (see Matthew 5:28).⁵ That’s why Christ promises a spiritual reward, not, as Moses does, a corporeal one. [9] For as I’ve said,⁶ Christ [III/71] was sent, not to preserve the state and to institute laws, but to teach the one universal law.

From this we easily understand that Christ did not at all repeal the law of Moses, since he didn’t want to introduce any new laws into the republic, nor was he concerned about anything but teaching moral [5] lessons, and distinguishing them from the laws of the Republic. This was important to him mainly because of the ignorance of the Pharisees, who thought that one who lived blessedly was one who observed the legislation of the Republic, or the law of Moses, whereas that law, as we’ve said [iv, 29–30], was concerned only with the Republic, and did not serve so much to teach the Hebrews as to compel them.

[10] [10] But let’s return to our theme, and cite other passages in Scripture which promise nothing more than corporeal advantages in return for ceremonies, and blessedness only in return for adhering to the universal divine law. Among the Prophets no one taught this more clearly than Isaiah. For in ch. 58, after he has condemned hypocrisy, he commends [15] freedom and loving-kindness toward oneself and one’s neighbor.⁷ In return for these he promises that

אז יבקע כשחר אורך וארוכתך מהרה תצמח והלך לפניך צדקך כבוד יהוה יאספך then your light will burst forth like the dawn, and your health will blossom out immediately, and your justice will go before you, and the glory of God will gather⁸* you etc. [v. 8].

After this he commends the sabbath also, and in return for diligence [20] in observing it, he promises that

אז תתענג על יהוה והרכבתיך על במותי ארץ והאכלתיך נחלת יעקב אביך כי פי יהוה דבר then you will take pleasure⁹* in God, and I shall make you ride¹⁰* on the high places of the earth, and I shall make you eat the heritage of Jacob, your father, as the mouth of Yahweh has spoken [v. 14].

We see, therefore, that in return for freedom and loving-kindness the [25] Prophet promises a sound mind in a sound body, and the glory of God even after death,¹¹ but that in return for ceremonies he promises nothing except the security of the state, prosperity and bodily good fortune.

[11] In Psalms 15 and 24 there is no mention of ceremonies, but only of moral teachings, because in those Psalms it is only a question of blessedness, and that alone is held out as an inducement, although [30] in metaphors. For it is certain that by the mount of God, and his tents, and the inhabitation of these, the Psalmist understands blessedness and [III/72] peace of mind, not the mount of Jerusalem or the tent of Moses.¹² For no one inhabited these places, nor did anyone administer them, except members of the tribe of Levi.

[12] Next, all the maxims of Solomon which I mentioned in the preceding chapter promise true blessedness in return only for the cultivation of understanding and wisdom. That is, they promise that [5] in this way we will at last understand the fear of God, and discover the 'knowledge of God.

[13] But it’s evident from Jeremiah that after the destruction of their state the Hebrews are not bound to perform ceremonies. When he has seen that the destruction of the city is at hand, and is predicting it, he says God loves only those who know and understand that he exercises [10] compassion, judgment, and justice in the world; and so hereafter only those who know these things are to be viewed as worthy of praise (see Jeremiah 9:23),¹³ as if to say that after the destruction of the city God requires nothing special of the Jews, and that henceforth he will not ask of them anything beyond the natural law which binds all mortals.

[15] [14] The New Testament completely proves this. For as we have said, it teaches only moral lessons, and promises the kingdom of heaven in return for adherence to them. Moreover, after the Gospel began to be preached also to other nations, who were bound by the legislation of another Republic, the Apostles set aside ceremonies.

It’s true that the Pharisees retained them, or at least many of them, [20] after they lost their state; but they did this more in a spirit of opposing the Christians than to please God. [15] For after the first destruction of the city, when they were led as captives to Babylon, because (so far as I know) they were not then divided into sects, they immediately neglected ceremonies. Indeed, they said good-bye to the whole law of Moses, consigned the legislation of their country to oblivion, as completely [25] superfluous, and began to mix with the other nations. Ezra and Nehemiah establish this more than adequately.¹⁴ So there is no doubt that after their state was dissolved the Jews were no more bound by the law of Moses than they were before their social order and Republic began. For before the exodus from Egypt, when they lived among other nations, they had [30] no laws peculiar to themselves, and were not bound by any law, except natural law and, no doubt, the legislation of the Republic in which they were living (insofar as it was not contrary to divine natural law).

[16] As for the fact that the Patriarchs sacrificed to God, I think they did that to rouse their hearts more to devotion; their hearts were accustomed to sacrifices from childhood. For from the time of Enosh [III/73] all men had become completely accustomed to sacrifices,¹⁵ so that it was only by them that they were most roused to devotion. So the Patriarchs sacrificed to God, not because some divine legislation commanded it, nor because they had been instructed in the universal foundations of divine law, but only because it was the custom at that time. If they did [5] it because of someone’s command, that command was nothing but the legislation of the republic in which they were living, by which they were also bound (as we have already noted here, and also in Ch. 3, when we spoke about Melchizedek).¹⁶

[17] With this I think I have proven my opinion by the authority [10] of Scripture. It remains now to show how and why ceremonies served to preserve and stabilize the Hebrews’ state. I shall show this from universal foundations, as briefly as I can.

[18] A social order is very useful, and even most necessary, not only for living securely from enemies, but also for doing many things more [15] easily. For if men were not willing to give mutual assistance to one another, they would lack both skill and time to sustain and preserve themselves as far as possible. [19] Not all men are equally capable of all things, and no one would be able to provide the things which a man alone needs most. Everyone, I say, would lack both the strength and [20] the time, if he alone had to plow, to sow, to reap, to grind, to cook, to weave, to sew, and to do the many other things necessary to support life—not to mention now the arts and sciences which are also supremely necessary for the perfection of human nature and for its blessedness. [20] For we see that those who live barbarously, without an organized [25] community, lead a wretched and almost brutal life, and that still it is not without mutual assistance, such as it is, that they are able to provide themselves with the few wretched and crude things they have.¹⁷

Now if nature had so constituted men that they desired nothing except what true reason teaches them to desire, then of course a society could exist without laws; in that case it would be completely sufficient [30] to teach men true moral lessons, so that they would do voluntarily, wholeheartedly, and in a manner worthy of a free man, what is really useful. [21] But human nature is not constituted like that at all. It’s true that everyone seeks his own advantage—but people want things and judge them useful, not by the dictate of sound reason, but for the most part only from immoderate desire and because they are carried away by affects of mind which take no account of the future and of other [III/74] things. [22] That’s why no society can continue in existence without authority and force, and hence, laws which moderate and restrain men’s immoderate desires and unchecked impulses.

Nevertheless, human nature does not allow itself to be compelled in everything. As the Tragic poet, Seneca, says, no one has sustained a [5] violent rule for long; moderate ones last.¹⁸ For as long as men act only from fear, they act very unwillingly, and don’t recognize the advantage, even the necessity, of doing what they’re doing. All they care about is saving their necks, and avoiding punishment. They can only rejoice whenever some evil or harm happens to their ruler, however much evil it may bring them; they can’t help wanting all sorts of bad things to [10] happen to him; when they can, they help to bring them about. Again, the hardest thing for them to endure is being subservient to their equals, and being governed by them. Finally, nothing is more difficult than to take freedom away from men again, once it has been granted.

[23] From these [foundations] it follows, first, that either the whole society should hold sovereignty as a body (if this can be done), so that [15] everyone is bound to be subject to himself, and no one is bound to be subject to his equal—or else, if a few men have sovereignty, or one man alone, he ought to have something above ordinary human nature. If he does not surpass ordinary human nature, he at least must strive with all his might to persuade the common people of this.

[24] Secondly, [it follows from the foundations that] in each state the laws must be so instituted that men are checked not so much by fear as by the hope of some good they desire very much. For in this [20] way everyone will do his duty eagerly.

[25] Finally, since obedience consists in someone’s carrying out a command solely on the authority of the person who commands it, it follows that obedience has no place in a social order where sovereignty is in the hands of everyone and laws are enacted by common consent, [25] and that whether the laws in such a social order are increased or diminished, the people nevertheless remains equally free, because it does not act from the authority of someone else, but by its own consent. But the opposite happens where one person alone holds sovereignty absolutely. For everyone carries out the commands of the state solely because of the authority of one person, with the result that, unless they have been [30] educated from the beginning to hang on the words of the ruler, it will be difficult for him to institute new laws when it is necessary, and to take away a freedom once it has been granted to the people.

[26] Let us now apply these general considerations to the Hebrew republic.¹⁹ When they first left Egypt, they were no longer bound by the legislation of any other nation; so they were permitted, as they [III/75] wished, to enact new laws or to establish new legislation, and to have a state wherever they wished, and to occupy what lands they wished. [27] Nevertheless, they were quite incapable of establishing legislation wisely and keeping the sovereignty in their own hands, as a body. Almost all of them were unsophisticated in their mentality and weakened by [5] wretched bondage. Therefore, the sovereignty had to remain in the hands of one person only, who would command the others, compel them by force, and finally, who would prescribe laws and afterward interpret them.

[28] But Moses was easily able to retain this sovereignty, because he excelled the others in divine power, persuaded the people that he had [10] it, and showed this by a great deal of evidence (see Exodus 14:29, 19:9). So through a divine power in which he was preeminent, he established legislation and prescribed it to the people. But in these matters he took the greatest care that the people should do their duty, not so much from fear, as voluntarily.²⁰ Two things in particular forced this on him: [15] the stubborn mentality of the people (because it would not allow itself to be compelled solely by force) and the threat of war. For if war is to go well, it is better to encourage the soldiers than to frighten them with penalties and threats. In this way they will be eager to distinguish themselves for excellence and nobility of spirit rather than merely to avoid punishment.

[29] That’s why Moses, by divine power and command, introduced [20] religion into the Republic, so that the people would do their duty not so much from fear as from devotion. He also placed them under obligation with benefits, and in the name of God promised them many things in the future. Moreover, the laws he enacted were not very severe. Anyone who has concerned himself with them will easily grant that, particularly if he has attended to the circumstances which were [25] required to condemn someone as guilty.²¹

[30] Finally, in order that the people, who were not capable of being their own masters, should hang on the words of its ruler, he did not permit these men, accustomed as they were to bondage, to act just as they pleased. For the people could do nothing without being bound at the same time to remember the law, and to carry out commands which depended only on the will of the ruler. For it was not at their [30] own pleasure, but according to a fixed and determinate command of the law, that they were permitted to plow, to sow, to reap.²² Likewise, they were not permitted to eat anything, to dress, to shave their head or beard, to rejoice, or to do absolutely anything, except according to the orders and commandments prescribed in the laws. This was not all. They were also bound to have on the doorposts, on their hands, [III/76] and between their eyes, certain signs, which always reminded them of the need for obedience.²³

[31] This, then, was the object of the ceremonies: that men should do nothing by their own decision, but everything according to the command of someone else, and that they should confess, both by constantly repeated actions and by meditations, that they were not their own master in anything, but were completely subjected to someone [5] else’s control. From all this it is established, more clearly than by broad daylight, that ceremonies contribute nothing to blessedness, and that those of the Old Testament, indeed, the whole law of Moses, was concerned with nothing but the Hebrew state, and consequently, with nothing but corporeal advantages.²⁴

[32] As for the Christian ceremonies, viz., Baptism, the lord’s Supper, the festivals, public statements, and whatever others there may be [10] which are and always have been common to all Christianity, if Christ or the Apostles ever instituted these (which so far I do not find to be sufficiently established), they were instituted only as external signs of the universal Church, not as things which contribute to blessedness or have any holiness in them.²⁵

[15] [33] So though these ceremonies were not instituted with respect to a state, still they were instituted only with respect to the whole Society.²⁶ So someone who lives alone is not bound by them at all. Indeed, someone who lives in a state where the Christian religion is forbidden is bound to abstain from these ceremonies. But he can still live blessedly. [20] [34] We have an example of this in Japan, where the Christian religion is forbidden, and the Dutch who live there are bound by a command of the East India Company to abstain from all external worship.²⁷

I do not intend to prove this now by any other authority, though it would not be difficult to deduce this too from the fundamental principles [25] of the New Testament, and perhaps to show it also by clear evidence. Nevertheless I prefer to put these things to one side, because I am anxious to get to other matters. So I proceed to the second question I have decided to discuss in this chapter: for whom is faith in the historical narratives contained in Scriptures necessary? and why? To investigate this by the natural light, it seems that we should proceed as follows.

[30] [35] If someone wants to persuade or dissuade men of something not known through itself, to get them to embrace it he must deduce it from things which have been granted, and convince them either by experience or by reason, viz., either from things they have experienced through the senses as happening in nature, or from intellectual axioms known through themselves. But unless the experience is such that it [III/77] is clearly and distinctly understood, even though it convinces a man, it will still not be able to affect his intellect and disperse its clouds as much as when the thing to be taught is deduced solely from intellectual axioms, i.e., solely by the power of the intellect and its order in perceiving. This is particularly true if it is a question of a spiritual [5] thing, which does not in any way fall under the senses.

[36] But because deducing a thing solely from intellectual notions very often requires a long chain of perceptions, plus extreme caution, mental perceptiveness, and restraint—all of which are rarely found in men—men would rather be taught by experience than deduce all their [10] perceptions from a few axioms and connect them together.

[37] It follows that if someone wants to teach a doctrine to a whole nation—not to mention the whole human race—and wants everyone to understand him in every respect, he is bound to prove his doctrine solely by experience, and for the most part to accommodate his arguments and the definitions of his teaching to the power of understanding [15] of ordinary people, who form the greatest part of the human race. He should not connect his arguments, or give definitions, according as they serve to connect his arguments better. Otherwise he will write only for the learned, i.e., he will be intelligible only to very few men, compared with the rest.

[20] [38] Since the whole of Scripture was revealed first for the use of a whole nation, and eventually for the use of the whole human race, the things it contains must necessarily have been accommodated chiefly to ordinary people’s power of understanding and proved by experience alone. Let us explain this matter more clearly. The strictly speculative matters Scripture wishes to teach²⁸ are chiefly these:

[25] there is a God, or a being who has made all things, who directs and sustains them with supreme wisdom, and who takes the greatest care of those men who live piously and honorably. As for the others, he inflicts many punishments on them and separates them from the good.

[39] Scripture proves these teachings solely by experience, i.e., by [30] the narratives it relates. It does not give any definitions of these things, but accommodates all its words and arguments to ordinary people’s power of understanding. And although experience cannot give any clear knowledge of these things, or teach what God is, and how he sustains and directs all things, and how he takes care of men,²⁹ still it [III/78] can teach and enlighten men enough to imprint obedience and devotion on their hearts.

[40] This establishes clearly enough, I think, who needs faith in the historical narratives contained in Scripture, and why. From what we have just shown it follows with utmost clarity that acquaintance with them, and faith in them, is most necessary for the common people, [5] whose mentality is not able to perceive things clearly and distinctly.

Next it follows that whoever denies these narratives because he does not believe that there is a God, or that God provides for things and for men, is impious. On the other hand, someone who is not familiar with them, and nevertheless knows by the natural light that God exists, and the other things we have just mentioned [in §38], and moreover has a [10] true manner of living, that person is completely blessed.³⁰ Indeed, he is more blessed than the common people, because in addition to true opinions, he has a clear and distinct conception.

[41] Finally, it follows that if someone is not familiar with these historical narratives in Scripture and does not know anything by the natural light, even if he is not impious or stubborn, still he is devoid of human feeling, and almost a beast. He does not have any of God’s gift.

[15] But note: when we say that acquaintance with historical narratives is very necessary for the common people, we do not mean acquaintance with absolutely all the narratives contained in Scripture, but only with the main ones, which by themselves, without the others, show the teaching we have just mentioned more clearly, and are most capable [20] of moving men’s hearts. [42] For if all the Scriptural narratives were necessary to prove its teaching, and no conclusion could be drawn without a general consideration of absolutely all the stories contained in it,³¹ then surely the demonstration of the teaching and the conclusion would surpass, not only the grasp and powers of ordinary people, [25] but those of all men without exception. For who could attend all at once to so many narratives, to so many circumstances, and to so many parts of the teaching which would have to be drawn from so many and such different stories?

[43] For my part, I cannot believe that the men who left us the Scripture as we have it were so plentifully supplied with understanding [30] that they could find such a demonstration; much less can I believe that the teaching of Scripture could not be understood except by someone who had heard the quarrels of Isaac, the advice given by Achitophel to Absalom, the civil war of the Jews and the Israelites, and other Chronicles of that kind. Nor can I believe that that teaching could not be demonstrated as easily to the first Jews, who lived in the time [III/79] of Moses, as it could to those who lived in the time of Ezra. But more of this later.

[44] The common people, then, are bound to know only those narratives which are most able to move their hearts to obedience and devotion. But they themselves are not very well able to make a judgment [5] [about which narratives those are], because they take more pleasure in the narration, and in the particular and unexpected outcomes, than they do in what the narratives teach. So, in addition to reading the narratives, they need Pastors or ministers of the Church as well, who will teach them according to the weakness of their understanding.

[45] But not to wander from our subject, let us conclude with what [10] we mainly meant to show, viz. that faith in historical narratives, whatever in the end those narratives may be, does not pertain to the divine law and does not render men more blessed in itself, and does not have any utility except in relation to teaching. It is only in this respect that some narratives can be better than others.

[46] So the narratives contained in the Old and New Testaments [15] are better than the other, secular narratives, and among the [scriptural narratives], some are better than others, in proportion as the opinions which follow from them are salutary. Hence, if someone has read the narratives of Holy Scripture, and has had faith in them in every respect, and has nevertheless not attended to the lesson Scripture intends to teach with those stories, nor improved his life, it is just the same as if [20] he had read the Koran, or the dramas of the Poets, or even the ordinary Chronicles, with the same attention as the common people usually give to these things. On the other hand, as we have said, someone who is completely unfamiliar with these narratives, and nevertheless has salutary opinions and a true manner of living, is completely blessed and really has the Spirit of Christ in him.³²

[47] But the Jews think just the opposite.³³ For they maintain that true [25] opinions and a true manner of living contribute nothing to blessedness so long as men embrace them only by the natural light and not as teachings revealed prophetically to Moses. In ch. 8 of Kings, law 11, Maimonides is bold enough to affirm this openly, in these words: [30] כל המקבל שבע מצות ונזהר לעשותן הרי זה מחסידי אומות העולם ויש לו חלק לעולם הבא : והוא שיקבל אותן ויעשה אותן מפני שצוה בהן הקדוש ברוך הוא בתורה והודיענו על ידי משה רבינו שבני נח מקודם נצטוו בהן אבל אם עשהן מפני הכרע הדעת אין זה גר תושב ואינו מחסידי אומות העולם ואינו מחכמיהם [III/80]everyone who has accepted the seven precepts³⁴* and has carried them out diligently is among the pious of the Nations, and will inherit the world to come, that is, provided he has accepted them and carried them out because God commanded them in the law and because he revealed to us through Moses that previously he gave the same precepts to the sons of Noah; but if he [5] has carried them out because he has been led by reason, he is not a resident,³⁵ nor to be numbered among the pious of the Nations, nor among their wise men.³⁶

[48] Those are the words of Maimonides. And Rabbi Joseph, son of Shem Tov, adds in his book, Kevod Elohim, or Glory of God,³⁷ that even if Aristotle (who he thinks wrote the best Ethics, and whom he [10] esteems above all others) had included all the things which concern the true Ethics, and which he has embraced in his own Ethics, but had carried out all of them diligently, this still could not have helped him attain salvation. For he did not embrace the things he teaches as divine teachings, prophetically revealed, but only as dictates of reason.

[49] But I think anyone who reads these things attentively will find [15] it clear enough that these are all just inventions, unsupported either by any reasons or by the authority of Scripture. To refute this position, it’s enough to give an account of it. Nor do I intend here to refute the opinion of those who maintain that the natural light cannot teach anything sound about the things bearing on true salvation. For a person [20] who does not grant himself any sound reason can not prove this by any reason.³⁸ And if they seek to recommend themselves as having something beyond reason, that is a mere invention, and far beneath reason, which their ordinary way of living has already sufficiently shown.

[50] But there is no need to speak more openly about these people. I add only this: that we cannot know anyone except by his works. [25] Therefore, if a man is rich in these fruits,³⁹ loving-kindness, gladness, peace, patience, beneficence, goodness, good faith, gentleness, and selfrestraint—against which (as Paul says in Galatians 5:22) there is no law—whether he has been taught only by reason or only by Scripture, he has truly been taught by God and is completely blessed. With this [30] I have finished everything I had decided to say about the divine law.

1. Isa. 1:16–17 reads: “Wash yourselves clean; put your evil doings away from my sight. Cease to do evil; learn to do good. Devote yourself to justice; aid the wronged; uphold the rights of the orphan; defend the cause of the widow” (NJPS).

2. Spinoza uses the numbering of the Hebrew Bible for what in the English versions are vv. 6 and 8. The Hebrew which Spinoza translates here as lex (“law”), torah, can also be translated “teaching,” and is so translated in the NJPS translation.

3. *A phrase meaning perception.

4. The first hint, I think, that Spinoza will question the attribution of those books to Moses.

5. Matt. 5:28 reads: “But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart” (NRSV). Sanders (1993, 201–4) has argued that we need to put the “idealistic perfectionism” of passages like this into context, noting that it seems to be localized in the gospel of Matthew, and to be inconsistent with the compassion toward human frailty found elsewhere in the teachings of Jesus.

6. I believe the reference is to iv, 31–34.

7. hic enim cap. 58., postquam hypocrisin damnavit, libertatem, et charitatem erga se, et proximum commendat. This sentence is puzzling, partly because of the reference to libertas. Totaro suggests that Spinoza may have in mind Isa. 58:6, which urges the people of Israel to free the workers they have oppressed. But she also suggests that libertas may have the broader meaning it had acquired by the seventeenth century, which includes what would classically have been called liberalitas (liberality or generosity). Cf. Isa. 58:7, with its call to the people of Israel to share their bread with the hungry, bring the homeless into their homes, and clothe the naked.

Also puzzling is the apparent injunction to love oneself (commending charitas erga se). Isaiah does not seem to think that the people suffer from a deficit of self-love, but that their self-love fails to motivate the behavior God really wants, not ritual, but care for others. We might propose taking the reflexive se to have reciprocal force, so that the injunction is to love one another. But then the reference to loving one’s neighbor seems redundant.

8. *A Hebraism by which the time of death is meant. To be gathered unto one’s people means to die. See Gen. 49:29, 33. [Spinoza is at odds with the major modern translations, which interpret the verb אסף here as meaning to be one’s rearguard, and not, as Spinoza does, to gather or collect (with a reference to the custom of gathering a person’s bones for burial with those of his ancestors). So the NJPS has for the last verse: “The presence of the LORD shall be your rearguard.” The NRSV and NIV are similar. I owe this information to John Huddlestun. Cf. Isa. 52:12, where the HCSB commentary suggests a contrast with the exodus.]

9. *This means to take pleasure in honorably, as is also said in Dutch: met Godt en met eere [, with God and with honor].

10. *This means control, as to handle a horse by the reins.

11. So here Spinoza finds a reference to reward in the afterlife in the Hebrew Bible (though apparently he bases this on a misreading of Isaiah).

12. See Ps. 15:1 and Ps. 24:3.

13. Though in italics in the text, this is more a paraphrase than a quote. The verse cited reads: “But only in this should one glory: in his earnest devotion to Me. For I the Lord act with kindness, justice and equity in the world; for in these I delight” (NJPS). The verses which follow reject the importance of physical circumcision, in favor of a circumcision of the heart.

14. See Ezra 9 and Neh. 13.

15. Gen. 4:26, which does not specifically mention sacrifices, reports that in the time of Enosh (the grandson of Adam through Seth) people began to invoke Yahweh by name. According to a different tradition, preserved in Exod. 3:13–15, 6:2–3, the name Yahweh was introduced in the time of Moses. See the discussion in Anchor Genesis, 37–38.

16. In iii, 23–24.

17. The considerations Spinoza introduces here will recur in xvi, 13, as part of his argument for a social contract. They occur also in Hobbes. Cf. Leviathan xiii, 9, 14.

18. Seneca, Troades 258–59, quoted again at III/194/15. As ALM note, Spinoza’s Latin teacher, Van den Enden, had his students put on performances, not only of Terence’s comedies, but also of Seneca’s tragedies.

19. Cf. xvii, 26–40.

20. ALM call attention to a passage in Terence’s Adelphi, 74–75, another of the Latin authors whose plays Van den Enden had his students perform. Cf. also TP x, 7.

21. Cf. Deut. 19:15, according to which two or more witnesses are required for conviction for any crime.

22. Cf. Deut. 22:9–10.

23. Cf. Deut. 6:8–9.

24. This section of the TTP would thus provide one way for Spinoza to defend one of the opinions for which he was excommunicated, his contention that the Law of Moses was not the true law. Cf. the Editorial Preface to the TTP, pp. 49–50, 52–53.

25. In rejecting these Christian ceremonies, Spinoza’s position resembles that of the Quakers. Cf. Barbour 2005.

26. That is, as I take it, the Christian religious community, which lacks the political structure characteristic of a state, and transcends national boundaries.

27. Catholic missionaries had been active in Japan since the mid-sixteenth century and the Dutch established a trading post there early in the seventeenth century. But the Tokugawa shoguns, aware of the role of missionaries in the Spanish and Portuguese colonialism in Asia, came to view them as a threat to their rule. They banned Christianity, expelled the missionaries, and adopted a policy of national seclusion. From 1633 until the nineteenth century, Japanese subjects were prohibited from traveling abroad. Foreign contact was limited to a few Chinese and Dutch merchants allowed to trade through the port of Nagasaki, on the condition that they would refrain from proselytizing and from publicly practicing Christianity. When this agreement became known in the Netherlands, the Calvinist clergy, mindful of the willingness of the early Christians to suffer martyrdom in the Roman Empire, strongly opposed it. During the French invasion of the Dutch Republic in the 1670s, Jean-Baptiste Stouppe, a Swiss Calvinist in the service of Louis XIV, sought to justify the participation of Protestants in a Catholic war against a Protestant country on the ground that the Dutch Republic was not truly a Protestant country. He cited both the agreement with Japan and the “unlimited freedom” the Republic extended to all sorts of religions (and to freethinkers like Spinoza). For further detail, see Stouppe 1673; ALM, 727–28, n. 29; and Gebhardt V, 34–36. Spinoza will refer to this agreement again in xvi, 67.

28. Here we get a first sketch of the minimum creed Spinoza will develop later in xii, 34–38, and xiv, 5–34.

29. Questions Spinoza addressed earlier in iii, 7–11.

30. Here Spinoza sets himself against the exclusivism affirmed in such New Testament passages as John 3:18, 14:6; Acts 4:12; Romans 3:9–28, 5:12–21; etc. Cf. Letter 76 and the discussion of it in Curley 2010.

31. As Maimonides had argued, Guide III, 50.

32. So Spinoza’s view is pluralistic, in the sense that he thinks no one religious book which claims to offer a unique route to salvation actually does that.

33. Maimonides’ position was not universal among Jews even in the medieval period. But the issue was an important one in the Amsterdam Jewish community of Spinoza’s day, and seems to have been one of the issues which separated Spinoza and Juan de Prado from that community. On this see Kaplan 1989, 122–78. Since the Enlightenment a more pluralistic understanding of the relation of Judaism to other religions has been common (though not universal). In the eighteenth century Moses Mendelssohn is particularly close to Spinoza’s view. On history of this problem, see Porton 2005.

34. *The Jews think that God gave Noah seven precepts and that it is only by those precepts that all nations are bound; but they think he gave a great many others as well to the Hebrew nation alone, so as to make it more blessed than the others. [The seven precepts which Spinoza says God is thought to have given to Noah (known as the Noachide laws) include prohibitions of idolatry, blasphemy, murder, adultery, theft, eating a limb torn from a living animal, and an injunction to establish a legal system. There has been debate within the Jewish tradition as to whether the Noachide laws constituted a formulation of natural law or were intended only to govern the conduct of non-Jews living under Jewish jurisdiction. For further detail, see Schwarzschild et al. 2007.]

35. Spinoza uses the term incola, resident, or inhabitant, to translate a Hebrew phrase which normally designates a resident alien, someone who has the right to live in a political community without being a citizen.

36. See the Mishneh Torah, Hilkot Melakim 8, 11, and the discussions of this passage in Fox 1990, 130–32, and Kaplan 1989, 118–22. The text Spinoza translates appears to be corrupt. Modern editions of Maimonides have a reading in which the last clause would be translated “but among their wise men.” ALM, 729–30, n. 40, helpfully summarizes the debate among Joel, Cohen, and Strauss about whether Maimonides’ position on the righteous among the gentiles is truly representative of the Jewish tradition. See also Porton 2005.

37. Joseph ben Shem Tov (c. 1400–c. 1460) was a philosopher and physician in the court of two Spanish kings, John II and Henry IV. His Kevod Elohim (written in 1442, but not published until 1556) argued that Aristotle’s views could be reconciled with the teachings of the Torah, and that philosophical inquiry could be useful to religion. A Jew who philosophizes is better than one who practices his religious duties blindly. But he did not think it was necessary to understand philosophy or the reasons for the divine commandments in order to practice them.

38. Another reference to the Calvinists. Cf. Preface, §17.

39. Alluding to a proverb found in the gospels, e.g., Matt. 7:16, 20; 12:33.

[III/81] CHAPTER VI

On Miracles

[1] Just as men are in the habit of calling divine whatever 'knowledge surpasses the human power of understanding, so they’ve become accustomed [5] to call a work divine, or a work of God, if its cause is commonly not known. For the common people think God’s power and providence are established most clearly when they see something unusual happen in nature, which is contrary to the opinion they have of nature from custom. This is particularly so if the event has turned out to their profit [10] or advantage. They judge that nothing can prove God’s existence more clearly than that nature, as they think, does not maintain its order.

That’s why these people think someone who explains things and miracles by their natural causes, or who strives to understand them, eliminates God, or at least God’s providence. [2] For they think that God does nothing so long as nature acts according to its usual order. [15] Conversely, they think the power of nature and natural causes are inactive so long as God acts. So they imagine two powers numerically distinct from one another, the power of God and the power of natural things. Nevertheless, they think the power of natural things is determined by God in a certain way—or (as most think today instead) created.

[20] [3] But what do they understand by these two powers, and by God and nature? They don’t know, of course, except that they imagine God’s power as the rule of a certain Royal majesty, whereas they imagine nature’s power as force and impulse. So the common people call unusual works of nature miracles, or works of God. Partly from devotion, partly [25] from a desire to oppose those who cultivate the natural sciences, they don’t want to know the natural causes of things. They long to hear only the things they’re most ignorant of, which they’re most amazed by. [4] They can worship God and relate all things to his rule and will only by eliminating natural causes and imagining events outside the [30] order of nature. They marvel most at the power of God when they imagine the power of nature as if it were subjected to God’s control.

This [attitude] seems to have originated with the earliest Jews. The Gentiles of their time worshipped visible Gods, such as the Sun, the Moon, the Earth, Water, Air, etc. To prove them wrong and to show [III/82] them that those Gods were weak and inconstant, or changeable, and under the rule of an invisible God, the Jews related their miracles, by which they tried to show that the whole of nature was directed only for their advantage, by the command of the God they worshipped. This was so pleasing to men that to this day they haven’t ceased to feign miracles, so that they might be believed to be dearer to God than the [5] rest, and the final cause on account of which God has created, and continually directs, all things.

[5] What do the common people not foolishly claim for themselves, because they have no sound concept either of God or of nature, because they confuse God’s decrees with men’s decisions, and finally, because [10] they posit a nature so limited that they believe man to be its chief part! But that’s enough about the opinions and prejudices of the common people regarding Nature and miracles. [6] To treat this topic in proper order, I’ll show

(i) that nothing happens contrary to nature, but that it preserves an eternal, fixed and immutable order [§§7–12]; at the same time, I’ll show [15] what must be understood by a miracle [§§13–15];

(ii) I’ll show that we cannot know either the essence or the existence of God from miracles, and hence, that we cannot know his providence from miracles, but that all these things are far better perceived from the fixed and immutable order of nature [§§16–38];

(iii) by a number of Scriptural examples I’ll show that Scripture itself understands by God’s decrees and volitions—and hence his providence—nothing [20] but the order itself of nature, which follows necessarily from its eternal laws [§§39–51];

(iv) finally, I’ll discuss how the miracles of Scripture are to be understood, and what must principally be noted regarding the miracle narratives [§§52–64].

These are the main points of the argument of this chapter. I think [25] they’ll contribute in no small way to the purpose of the work as a whole.

[7] The first point [that nothing happens contrary to nature, but that it preserves an eternal, fixed and immutable order] is easily shown from what we demonstrated in Ch. 4¹ regarding the divine law: viz. that whatever God wills or determines involves eternal necessity and truth; [8] for we have shown, from the fact that God’s intellect is not [30] distinguished from his will, that we affirm the same thing when we say that God wills something as when we say that he understands it. So by the same necessity with which it follows from the divine nature and perfection that God understands a thing as it is, it follows also that God wills the same thing as it is.² [9] But since nothing is necessarily true except by the divine decree alone, it follows quite clearly from [III/83] this that the universal laws of nature are nothing but decrees of God, which follow from the necessity and perfection of the divine nature. Therefore, if anything were to happen in nature which was contrary to its universal laws, it would also necessarily be contrary to the divine [5] decree, intellect and nature. Or if someone were to maintain that God does something contrary to the laws of nature, he would be compelled to maintain at the same time also that God acts in a way contrary to his own nature. Nothing would be more absurd than that.

We could also show the same thing from the fact that the power of nature is the divine power and virtue itself. Moreover, the divine power is the very essence of God. But for the present I prefer to pass over this.³

[10] [10] Nothing, therefore, happens in nature⁴* which is contrary to its universal laws. Nor does anything happen which does not agree with those laws or does not follow from them. For whatever happens, happens by God’s will and eternal decree, i.e., as we have now shown, whatever happens, happens according to laws and rules which involve eternal necessity and truth.

[15] [11] So nature always observes laws and rules which involve eternal necessity and truth—though they are not all known to us—and so it also observes a fixed and immutable order. No sound reason urges us to attribute a limited power and virtue to nature, or to maintain that its laws are suited only for certain things and not everything. For since [20] nature’s virtue and power is the very virtue and power of God, and its laws and rules are God’s decrees themselves, we must believe without reservation that the power of nature is infinite, and that its laws are so broad that they extend to everything which is conceived by the divine intellect itself. [12] For otherwise what else are we saying but that God [25] has created a nature so impotent, and established laws and rules for it so sterile, that often he is compelled to come to its aid anew, if he wants it to be preserved and wants things to turn out as he wished? I think nothing is more foreign to reason than that.

[13] Thus, from these propositions—that nothing happens in nature [30] which does not follow from its laws, that its laws extend to all things conceived by the Divine intellect itself, and finally, that nature maintains a fixed and immutable order—it clearly follows that the term “miracle” cannot be understood except in relation to men’s opinions, [III/84] and means nothing but a work whose natural cause we cannot explain by the example of another familiar thing, or at least which cannot be so explained by the one who writes or relates the miracle.

[14] I could, of course, say that a miracle is something whose cause cannot be explained according to the principles of natural things known [5] to the natural light. But since miracles have occurred according to the power of understanding of the common people, who were, in fact, completely ignorant of the principles of natural things, it is certain that the ancients took for a miracle what they could not explain in the way the common people are accustomed to explain natural things, viz. by falling back on memory to recall some other similar thing they are [10] accustomed to imagine without wonder. For the common people think they understand a thing well enough when they do not wonder at it.

[15] So the ancients, and almost everyone up till now, has had no other standard for a miracle than this. We ought not doubt that many things are related as miracles in the Sacred Texts whose causes can easily [15] be explained according to known principles of natural things. We already hinted at this in Ch. 2 when we spoke about the sun’s standing still in the time of Joshua, and its going backward in the time of Ahaz.⁵ But we’ll soon treat this more fully, when we discuss the interpretation of miracles, as I’ve promised to do in this chapter.

[20] [16] It’s time now to pass to the second point, viz. to show that from miracles we understand neither God’s essence, nor his existence, nor his providence, but that on the contrary these things are far better perceived from the fixed and immutable order of nature. I proceed to demonstrate this as follows.⁶

[17] Since God’s existence is not known through itself,⁷** it must [25] necessarily be inferred from notions whose truth is so firm and steady that no power can be or be conceived by which they could be changed. At least, so they must appear to us when we infer God’s existence from them, if we want to infer it beyond any chance of doubt. For if we [30] could conceive that the notions themselves could be changed by some power, whatever in the end it was, we would doubt their truth, and consequently also doubt our conclusion, viz. God’s existence, so that we could never be certain of anything.

[18] Next, we know that nothing agrees with nature (or is contrary to it) except what we have shown to agree with those principles (or to be contrary to them). So if we could conceive that by some [III/85] power (whatever in the end it was) something could happen in nature which was contrary to nature, that would be contrary to those first notions, and we would have to reject it as absurd—either that, or we would have to doubt the first notions (as we have just shown) and consequently, doubt God and all things, however they might have been perceived.

[5] [19] So it is far from true that miracles (understood as works contrary to the order of nature) show us the existence of God. On the contrary, they would make us doubt his existence, since without them we could be absolutely certain of his existence, i.e., when we know that all things in nature follow a fixed and immutable order.

[10] [20] But suppose a miracle is something which cannot be explained by natural causes. This can be understood in either of two ways: either it in fact has natural causes which nevertheless cannot be found by the human intellect, or it admits no cause except God, or God’s will. [21] But because all things which happen through natural causes also [15] happen from God’s power and will alone, in the end we must arrive at this: that whether a miracle has natural causes or not, it is a work which cannot be explained by its cause, i.e., a work which surpasses man’s power of understanding.

But from a work, and absolutely, from anything which surpasses [20] our power of understanding, we can understand nothing. For whatever we understand clearly and distinctly must become known to us either through itself or through something else which through itself is understood clearly and distinctly. [22] So from a miracle, or a work surpassing our power of understanding, we can understand neither God’s essence, nor his existence, nor absolutely anything concerning [25] God and nature. On the contrary, since we know that all things are determined and ordained by God, that nature’s operations follow from God’s essence, indeed, that the laws of nature are God’s eternal decrees and volitions, we must conclude absolutely that the better we know natural things—the more clearly we understand how they depend on [30] their first cause, and how they produce effects according to the eternal laws of nature—the better we know God and his will.

[23] That’s why, in relation to our intellect, we have a far better right to call those works we clearly and distinctly understand works of God, and to refer them to God’s will, than we do those we are completely ignorant of, though the latter occupy our imagination powerfully and [III/86] carry men away with wonder. For only the works of nature which we understand clearly and distinctly make our knowledge of God more elevated and indicate God’s will and decrees as clearly as possible. So those who have recourse to the will of God when they have no knowledge of a thing are just trifling. It’s a ridiculous way of confessing their ignorance.⁸

[5] [24] Again, even if we could infer something from miracles, we could still not infer God’s existence from them in any way. For since a miracle is a limited work, and never expresses any power except a definite and limited one, it is certain that from such an effect we cannot [10] infer the existence of a cause whose power is infinite, but at most that of a cause whose power is greater [than that expressed by the effect]. I say at most, because from many causes concurring at the same time, there can also follow a work whose force and power is indeed less than the power of all the causes together, but far greater than the power of each cause. [25] But since (as we’ve already shown)⁹ the laws of nature [15] extend to infinitely many things, and we conceive them under a certain species of eternity, and nature proceeds according to them in a definite and immutable order, to that extent they indicate to us God’s infinity, eternity and immutability.

[26] We conclude, then, that we cannot know God, his existence, [20] or his providence, by miracles; but we can infer these things far better from the fixed and immutable order of nature. In this conclusion I speak of a miracle only as a work which surpasses, or is believed to surpass, men’s power of understanding. For insofar as we suppose it to destroy, or interrupt, the order of nature, or to be contrary to nature’s laws, to [25] that extent (as we have just shown) it could give no knowledge of God; on the contrary, it would take away the knowledge we naturally have, and make us doubt God and everything else.

[27] I don’t recognize here any difference between a work contrary to nature and a work above nature (i.e., as some say, a work which in [30] fact is not contrary to nature, but which still cannot be produced or brought about by it).¹⁰ For since a miracle doesn’t happen outside nature, but in nature itself, even if it’s said to be above nature, it’s still necessary that it interrupt the order of nature, which we otherwise conceive as fixed and immutable, according to God’s decrees. [28] Therefore, if something were to happen in nature which did not follow from its laws, [III/87] that would necessarily be incompatible with the order which God has established to eternity in nature through the laws of nature. And so that would be contrary to nature and its laws. Hence belief in it would make us doubt everything and would lead to Atheism.

[29] I think I’ve now shown, by strong enough reasons, what I wanted [5] to regarding the Second point. From this we can conclude again that a miracle—whether [defined as] contrary to nature or above nature—is just an absurdity. So the only way we can understand a miracle in the Sacred Texts is as a work of nature which, as we have said, either surpasses men’s power of understanding or is believed to surpass it.

[10] [30] Before I proceed to my third point, I should like first to confirm, by the authority of Scripture, this opinion of ours—viz. that we cannot know God from miracles. Scripture nowhere teaches this openly. Still, it can easily be inferred from it, especially from what Moses commands (Deuteronomy 13[:1–5]), that [the people of Israel] should condemn to [15] death a Prophet who leads them astray, even if he performs miracles. [31] For he says that (even if) ובא האות והמופת אשר דבר אליך : לא תשמע אל דברי הנביא ההוא וגו כי מנסה יהוה אלהיכם אתכם וגו והנביא ההוא יומת וגו a sign and a wonder he has predicted to you should happen, etc., do not (nevertheless) assent to the words of this Prophet etc., because the Lord your God tests you [20] etc. (Therefore) let that Prophet be condemned to death etc. From this it clearly follows that even false Prophets can perform miracles, and that unless men are well protected by the true knowledge and love of God, miracles can lead them to embrace false Gods as easily as the True God. For Moses adds כי מנסה יהוה אלהיכם אתכם וגו since the LORD your God is testing [25] you, to know whether you love him with all your heart and all your soul.

[32] Moreover, in spite of their many miracles, the Israelites were still not able to form any sound concept of God, as experience itself has testified. For when they believed Moses had left them, they sought visible divinities from Aaron. The idea of God they finally formed from so many miracles was a calf. How shameful! [Exodus 32:1–6]. [30] [33] Although Asaph had heard of so many miracles, he still doubted God’s providence and would almost have been turned from the true way if he had not at last understood true blessedness. See Psalm 73. Even Solomon, in whose time the affairs of the Jews were at the peak of their prosperity, supposes that all things happen by chance. See [III/88] Ecclesiastes 3:19–21, 9:2–3, etc.¹¹

[34] Finally, almost all the Prophets found it extremely obscure how the order of nature and what happened to men could agree with the concept they had formed concerning God’s providence. But this was always quite clear to the Philosophers, who strive to understand things, [5] not from miracles, but from clear concepts. They locate true happiness only in virtue and peace of mind; they are concerned, not that nature should obey them, but that they should obey nature; they know with certainty that God directs nature as its universal laws require, not as the particular laws of human nature require, and that God takes account, [10] not of the human race only, but of the whole of nature.

[35] Scripture itself, then, establishes that miracles do not give a true knowledge of God or teach his providence clearly. Moreover, what is often found in Scripture—that God brought about wonders, to make [15] himself known to men (as in Exodus 10:[1–]2 God deceived the Egyptians and gave signs of himself, that the Israelites would know that he was God)—does not entail that miracles really teach this, but only that the Jews had opinions which disposed them to be easily convinced by these miracles. [36] For we have shown clearly in the second chapter that the Prophetic arguments, or those which are formed from revelation, [20] are not drawn from universal and common notions, but from things previously granted, no matter how absurd, and from the opinions of those to whom the things are revealed, or whom the Holy Spirit wishes to convince. We’ve illustrated this by many examples, and also by the testimony of Paul, who was a Greek with the Greeks and a Jew with the Jews [1 Corinthians 9:20–22].

[25] [37] But although those miracles could convince the Egyptians and the Jews from things they granted, they still could not give a true idea and knowledge of God. They could only make them grant that there is a Divinity more powerful than anything else they knew, and that this Divinity cared, above all others, for the Hebrews (whose affairs at that time were turning out much more fortunately than they hoped). [30] They could not make them grant that God cares equally for all. Only Philosophy can teach that. [38] So the Jews, like all who have known God’s providence only from the different conditions of human affairs and men’s unequal fortunes, persuaded themselves that they were dearer to God than the others, even though they still did not surpass the others in true human perfection, as we’ve already shown in Chapter 3.

[III/89] [39] I pass, then, to my Third point. I shall show from Scripture that God’s decrees and commands, and consequently his providence, are really nothing but the order of nature. That is, when Scripture says that God did this or that, or that this or that happened by the will of God, what [5] it really means is just that it happened according to the laws and order of nature, and not, as the common people think, that for some period nature ceased to act, or that for some time its order was interrupted. [40] But Scripture doesn’t teach directly things which don’t concern its doctrine; as we’ve shown concerning the divine law, its purpose is not to teach things through their natural causes, or things which are [10] merely speculative. So what we want to prove here must be drawn by inference from certain Scriptural Narratives, where, by chance, events have been related more fully and with more circumstances.¹² I’ll cite a number of examples.

[41] In 1 Samuel 9:15–16 it’s related that God revealed to Samuel [15] that he would send Saul to him. Nevertheless, God didn’t send Saul to him the way men usually send one man to another; this sending of God’s was nothing but the order of nature itself. The same chapter relates [vv. 3–10] that Saul was looking for asses he had lost, and was already deliberating whether to return home without them when he went to the Prophet Samuel, on the advice of his servant, to learn from [20] him where he could find them. The whole narrative shows that Saul did not have any other command of God than this order of nature to cause him to go to Samuel.

[42] In Psalm 105:24[–25] it’s said that God changed the hearts of the Egyptians so they would hate the Israelites. This was also a [25] completely natural change. It’s evident from Exodus 1 that the Egyptians had no slight reason which moved them to reduce the Israelites to bondage.¹³

[43] In Genesis 9:13 God says to Noah that he’ll put a rainbow in the clouds. This action of God is certainly nothing but the refraction and reflection of the rays of the sun, which the rays undergo in the drops [30] of water.¹⁴ In Psalm 147:18 the natural action of the wind, and the heat by which frost and snow are melted, is called the word of God; and in v. 15 the wind and cold are called the command and word of God. In Psalm 104:4 wind and fire are called the messengers and ministers of God. Many other things of this kind are found in Scripture, which indicate quite clearly that the decree, order, dictate and word of God [III/90] are nothing but the very action and order of nature.

[44] So there is no doubt that everything related in Scripture happened naturally, and yet is referred to God, because, as we’ve already shown, the purpose of Scripture is not to teach things through their natural causes, but only to relate those things which fill the imagination, and to do this [5] by that Method and style which serves best to increase wonder at things, and consequently to impress devotion in the hearts of the common people.

[45] So if we find in the Sacred Texts certain things whose causes we do not know how to give an account of, and which seem to have happened beyond, and indeed, contrary to the order of nature, they must not cause us any difficulty; we must believe without reservation [10] that what really happened happened naturally. This is also confirmed by the fact that in miracles many circumstances were found, although they are not always related, particularly when they are celebrated in the Poetic style. I say that the circumstances of the miracles clearly show that they require natural causes.

[15] [46] For example, to harass the Egyptians with boils, it was necessary for Moses to scatter ashes up into the air (see Exodus 9:10). Also the locusts attacked the country of the Egyptians by a natural command of God, i.e., by an east wind blowing a whole day and night, and they left it again by a very strong west wind (see Exodus 10:14, 19).¹⁵ It was [20] also by the same order of God that the sea opened a way for the Jews (see Exodus 14:21), viz. by Eurus,¹⁶ which blew very strongly all night.

[47] Again, to revive the boy who was believed to be dead, Elisha had to lie upon him several times, until first he became warm and finally he opened his eyes (see 2 Kings 4:34–35).¹⁷ So also the Gospel of John [25] relates certain circumstances Christ used to heal the blind man.¹⁸ Thus many other things are found in Scripture, all of which show sufficiently that miracles require something else besides what they call the absolute command of God.¹⁹

[48] So we must believe that although the circumstances of miracles [30] and their natural causes are neither always nor all fully described, nevertheless the miracles did not happen without them. This is established also by Exodus 14:27, where it is related only that it was simply by the command of Moses that the sea rose up again, and there is no mention of a wind. Nevertheless, in the Song it is said (15:10) that it happened because God blew with his wind, i.e., with a very strong wind.²⁰ So this circumstance is omitted in the story, and for this reason [III/91] the miracle seems greater.

[49] But perhaps someone will object that we find a great many things in Scripture which don’t seem capable of being explained in any way by natural causes, e.g., that men’s sins and prayers can be the cause of rain or of the fertility of the earth, or that faith was able to heal the [5] blind, and other things of this kind, related in the Bible.

But I think I have already replied to this. For I have shown²¹ that Scripture does not teach things through their proximate causes, but only relates them in that order and with those phrases with which it can most effectively move people (especially, ordinary people) to devotion. For this reason it speaks quite improperly concerning God and [10] things, because its concern is not to convince people’s reason, but to affect and fill their fantasy and imagination.

[50] If Scripture were to relate the destruction of some state in the way political historians usually do, that would not stir ordinary people at all. On the other hand, if it depicts everything poetically and refers everything to God, as it usually does, it will move them very much. [15] So when Scripture relates that the earth is barren because of men’s sins, or that the blind were healed by faith,²² those passages ought not to move us more than when it relates that because of men’s sins God becomes angry, or sad, or repents of the good he has promised or done, or that because he sees a sign, he recalls a promise, or a great many [20] other things, which are either said poetically or are related according to the opinions and prejudices of the Writer.

[51] So we conclude here, without qualification, that everything Scripture truly relates as having happened must have happened, as all things do, according to the laws of nature. And if anything should be found which can be conclusively demonstrated to be contrary to the [25] laws of nature, or to have been unable to follow from them, we must believe without reservation that it has been added to the Sacred Texts by sacrilegious men.²³ For whatever is contrary to nature is contrary to reason; and what is contrary to reason is absurd, and therefore to be rejected.

[52] It remains now only to note a few things concerning the interpretation of miracles, or rather to recapitulate them (for the main [30] points have already been made), and to illustrate them with one or two examples, as I have promised to do here in this Fourth part of the chapter. I want to do this to prevent anyone from rashly supposing, because he has misinterpreted some miracle, that he has found anything in Scripture contrary to the light of nature.

[53] It is quite rare for men to relate a thing simply, just as it happened, without mixing any of their own Judgment into the narration. [III/92] Indeed, when they see or hear something new, unless they take great precautions against their preconceived opinions, they will, for the most part, be so prejudiced by them that they will perceive something completely different from what they see or hear has happened, particularly if the thing which has been done surpasses the grasp of the narrator or the audience, and especially if it makes a difference to his affairs that [5] the thing should happen in a certain way.

[54] That’s why in their Chronicles and histories men relate their own opinions more than the actions they’re reporting, and why two men who have different opinions relate one and the same event so differently that they seem to be speaking about two events, and finally, why [10] it is often not very difficult to find out the opinions of the Chronicler and historian just from their histories. If I did not think it would be superfluous, I could cite many examples to confirm this, both from Philosophers who have written the history of nature, and from Chroniclers. But I’ll cite only one example from Sacred Scripture. Let the Reader himself judge of the others.

[15] [55] In the time of Joshua the Hebrews (as we noted above)²⁴ believed, with the common people, that the sun moves, as they say, with a daily motion and that the earth is at rest. They adapted the miracle which happened to them when they fought against the five kings to this preconceived opinion. For they did not relate simply that that day was longer than usual, but that the sun and the moon stood still, or ceased [20] their motion [Joshua 10:12–13]. This was also quite advantageous to them at that time in overcoming the Gentiles, who worshipped the sun, and in proving to them by experience that the sun is under the control of another divinity, according to whose command it is bound to change its natural order. [56] So partly because of religion and partly because [25] of preconceived opinions they conceived and recounted the affair far differently than it really could have happened.

Therefore, to interpret the miracles in Scripture and to understand from the narrations of them how they really happened, we need to know the opinions of those who first narrated them, and those who left them to us in writing, and to distinguish those opinions from what the [30] senses could have represented to them. Otherwise we’ll confuse their opinions and judgments with the miracle itself, as it really happened.

It’s important to know their opinions not only for these purposes, but also so that we do not confuse the things which really happened with imaginary things, which were only Prophetic representations. [57] For many things are related in Scripture as real, and were even [III/93] believed to be real, which were, nevertheless, only representations and imaginary things, e.g., that God (the supreme being) descended from heaven (see Exodus 19:18 and Deuteronomy 5:19),²⁵ and that Mt. Sinai was smoking because God had descended upon it, surrounded with [5] fire, and that Elijah ascended to heaven in a fiery chariot with horses of fire [2 Kings 2:11]. Of course all these things were only representations, adapted to the opinions of those who handed them down to us as represented to them, i.e., as actual things. [58] For anyone who is even a little wiser than the common people are knows that God has [10] neither a right hand nor a left hand, that he neither moves nor is at rest, that he is not in a place, but is absolutely infinite, and that all the perfections are contained in him.²⁶ They know these things, I say, if they judge things from the perceptions of the pure intellect, and not as the imagination is affected by the external senses, as the common people usually do. That is why they imagine God as corporeal and as [15] maintaining a kingly rule, whose throne they feign to be in the dome of heaven, above the stars, whose distance from the earth they do not believe to be very great. It is to these and similar opinions (as we have said) that a great many events in Scripture are adapted, which therefore ought not to be accepted by Philosophers as real.

[59] Finally, to understand miracles as they really happened, it is [20] important to know the Hebrews’ expressions and figures of speech.²⁷ For whoever does not attend sufficiently to them will ascribe to Scripture many miracles which its writers never intended to relate, so that he will know nothing at all, not only about the things and miracles as they really happened, but also about the mind of the authors of the sacred texts.

[25] [60] For example, Zechariah, speaking in 14:7 of a future battle, says והיה יום אחד הוא יודע ליהוה לא יום ולא לילה והיה לעת ערב יהיה אור and there shall be one day, known only to God, (for there will be) neither day nor night, but in the evening there will be light. With these words he seems [30] to predict a great miracle, but all he means is that for a whole day the battle will be in doubt, and its outcome known only to God, and that they will win victory in the evening. For the Prophets were accustomed to use expressions of that kind to write about and predict the victories and defeats of nations.

[61] In the same way we see Isaiah, who in 13:[10] depicts the destruction of Babylon thus: כי כוכבי השמים וכסיליהם לא יהלו אורם חשך השמש בצאתו וירח לא יגיה אורו [III/94] since the stars of the heavens and their constellations will not give their light, the sun will grow dark in its rising, and the moon will not give forth the brightness of its light. I don’t think anyone believes that this happened in the destruction of that state, or that those other things happened which he soon adds, viz. על כן שמים ארגיז ותרעש הארץ ממקומה [5] therefore I shall make the heavens tremble and the earth will be moved from its place.²⁸

[62] So also in 48:21, to signify to the Jews that they would return safely from Babylon to Jerusalem, and that they would not suffer from thirst on the journey, Isaiah says ולא צמאו בחרבות הוליכם מים מצור הזיל למו ויבקע צור ויזבו מים and they did not thirst, he led them through the deserts, he made water flow from the rock for them, he split open the rock and the [10] waters flowed. By these words he means only that the Jews, as happens, will find springs in the deserts, from which they will quench their thirst. For when, with Cyrus’ agreement, they made their way to Jerusalem, it is apparent that no such miracles happened to them.

[15] [63] In this way a great many things happen in the Sacred Texts which were only a manner of speaking among the Jews. There is no need to recount them all separately here. But I do want to make this general point: in using these habitual expressions the Hebrews were speaking not only eloquently, but also, and mainly, in a spirit of devotion. That is why to bless God is found in the Sacred Texts in place of [20] to curse God (see 1 Kings 21:10 and Job 2:9). That’s also the reason why they referred all things to God, and why Scripture seems to relate nothing but miracles, even when it speaks of the most natural things.²⁹ We’ve already given several examples of this above. So we must believe that when Scripture says that God hardened the heart of Pharaoh [25] [e.g., in Exodus 4:21, 7:3], that means nothing but that Pharaoh was obstinate. And when it is said that God opens the windows of heaven [Genesis 7:11], that means only that it rained very hard, and similarly with other things.

[64] If you attend thoroughly to these things, and to the fact that Scripture relates many things very briefly, without any circumstances, and in a way almost mutilated, you will find almost nothing in Scripture [30] which can be demonstrated to be contrary to the light of nature; on the other hand, with moderate reflection you will be able to understand, and interpret easily, many things which seemed most obscure. With this I think I’ve shown clearly enough what I intended to.

[65] Before I end this chapter, there’s something else I want to note. I’ve proceeded regarding miracles according to a method completely [III/95] different from the one I followed regarding Prophecy. Concerning Prophecy I affirmed nothing but what I could infer from foundations revealed in the Sacred Texts. But here I’ve elicited the main points only from principles known to the natural light. I did this deliberately. For since Prophecy surpasses man’s power of understanding, and is a purely [5] Theological question, I could affirm nothing about it, nor even know in what it chiefly consisted, except from the foundations which have been revealed. I was compelled to put together a history of Prophecy, and to formulate certain doctrines from it, which would teach me the nature and properties of Prophecy, as far as this can be done.

[10] [66] But concerning miracles what we are asking is completely philosophical: can we grant that something happens in nature contrary to its laws, or something which couldn’t follow from them? So I didn’t need anything like that. Indeed, I thought it wiser to unravel this question according to foundations known to the natural light, as those which [15] are most known. I say that I thought it wiser, for I could easily have resolved it solely from the doctrines and foundations of Scripture. To make this evident to everyone, I shall show it here briefly.

[67] In certain passages³⁰ Scripture affirms of nature in general that it observes a fixed and immutable order. For example, see Psalm 148:6 [20] and Jeremiah 31:35–36. Moreover, the Philosopher³¹ teaches most clearly in Ecclesiastes 1:10 that nothing new happens in nature. And illustrating this same point in vv. 11–12,³² he says that although sometimes something happens which seems new, nevertheless it is not new, but happened in ages past of which there is no memory. For as he says, [25] there is no remembrance of things past among us today, nor will there be any remembrance of today’s events among those who come after us. [68] Again, he says in 3:11 that God has ordered all things well in their time, and in 3:14 he says that he knows that whatever God makes will remain to eternity, and that nothing can be added to it or subtracted from it. All these passages teach very clearly that nature observes a [30] fixed and immutable order, that God has been the same in all ages, both those known to us and those unknown, that the laws of nature are so perfect and fruitful that nothing can be added to them or taken away from them, and finally, that miracles are seen as something new only because of men’s ignorance.

[69] Scripture, then, teaches these things explicitly, but nowhere does it teach that anything happens in nature which is contrary to its laws, [III/96] or which cannot follow from them. So these things ought not to be ascribed to Scripture. To this we may add that miracles require causes and circumstances—as we have already shown [§§39–51]—and that they do not follow from I know not what kingly rule which the common [5] people ascribe to God, but from his command and divine decree, i.e.,—as we have also shown from Scripture itself [§§52–64?]—from the laws of nature and its order, and finally, that miracles can also be performed by those who seduce the people, as is proven by Deuteronomy 13[:1–5] and Matthew 24:24.

[70] From these conclusions it follows with utmost clarity that miracles were natural events, and hence, that they are to be explained in [10] such a way that they do not seem to be something new (to use Solomon’s term) or to be contrary to nature. If possible, they should be explained in such a way that they seem to be very much in agreement with natural things. That everyone may be able to do this more easily, I have passed on certain rules derived solely from Scripture.³³ [71] But though I say Scripture teaches these things, I don’t mean by that that [15] it teaches them as lessons necessary for salvation, only that the Prophets embraced the same things we do. So everyone is free to judge of these things as he thinks best for himself, for the purpose of entering wholeheartedly into the worship of God and religion.

[72] Josephus agrees, for he writes as follows at the end of Book II of his Antiquities:

Let no one resist the word miracle, if a safe passage was made through [20] the sea for these ancient men, free of wickedness, whether this was done by the will of God or of its own accord; once the Pamphylian sea was also divided for those who were with Alexander, king of Macedon, and when there was no other way, it offered a passage to them, it being God’s will to destroy the Persian empire through him. Everyone who [25] writes about Alexander’s deeds admits this. So anyone may judge these things as he pleases.³⁴

These are the words of Josephus, and his judgment concerning belief in miracles.

1. See iv, 23–25.

2. That is, because God’s intellect necessarily understands things as they are, and because his will and intellect are identical, his will necessarily wills them as they are.

3. Because the argument of the preceding paragraph relied on ascribing will and intellect to God, we might reasonably suspect it of being ad hominem. Cf. iv, 23, and the annotation there. But this paragraph seems to suggest an argument which relies only on doctrines Spinoza himself holds.

4. *NB: By Nature here I do not understand only matter and its affections, but in addition to matter, infinite other things.

5. See Josh. 10:12–14, Isa. 38:7–8, and 2 Kings 20:8–11, discussed in ii, 26–28.

6. Gebhardt points out (V, 39) that this was one of the issues on which Spinoza and Juan de Prado agreed, as we can learn from Orobio de Castro’s Epistola invectiva contra Prado. ALM cite Revah 1959, 102–4.

7. **[ADN. VI] So long as the idea we have of God himself is not clear and distinct, but confused, we doubt God’s existence, and consequently we doubt everything. For just as someone who does not properly know the nature of a triangle does not know that its three angles are equal to two right angles, so one who conceives the divine nature confusedly does not see that it pertains to the nature of God to exist. But for us to be able to conceive God’s nature clearly and distinctly, we must attend to certain very simple notions, called common notions, and connect with them those pertaining to the divine nature. If we do that, it becomes evident to us: first, that God exists necessarily and is everywhere; next, that whatever we conceive involves in itself the nature of God and is conceived through it; and finally, that everything we conceive adequately is true. But on these matters see the preface of the book entitled The principles of philosophy demonstrated in a geometric manner [Volume I, pp. 231–38].

8. Cf. E App., II/81/10–11.

9. Above iv, 23–25; vi, 7–12.

10. In CM II, 12 (I/276–77) Spinoza had noted that “most of the more prudent theologians concede that God does nothing against nature, but only acts above nature.” As he explained the distinction there, God’s acting “above nature” involves his acting according to laws he has not communicated to the human intellect. It seems doubtful that the theologians to whom he refers would accept that explanation. In ST I, qu. 105, art. 6, Aquinas wrestles with the problem posed by Augustine’s statements that “God, the Maker and Creator of each nature, does nothing against nature” (Answer to Faustus, a Manichean, vol. I/20, in Augustine 1990; PL 42, 480) and “God sometimes does things which are contrary to the usual course of nature” (Answer to Faustus, a Manichean, vol. I/20, in Augustine 1990; PL 42, 481). His solution seems to depend on making a distinction between “the order of things as it depends on the first cause” (which God cannot act against, since doing so would involve acting against his foreknowledge, or his will, or his goodness) and “the order of things according as it depends on any secondary cause.” Because God is not subject to the order of secondary causes, which depends on his will, he can do something outside that order. So, he can produce “the effects of secondary causes without [the secondary causes],” or produce “certain effects to which the secondary causes do not extend.”

11. The two passages explicitly cited are more notable for their mortalism (or at least, agnosticism about immortality) than for explicitly teaching that all things happen by chance. But see Eccles. 9:11–12. The criticism of Solomon here is somewhat surprising, after the praise of iv, 41–46, and v, 12. Though Ecclesiastes was traditionally ascribed to Solomon, this attribution is now generally rejected. See HCSB 890. When Spinoza discusses Ecclesiastes in x, 5, he does not discuss its authorship, only its canonicity.

12. Maimonides’ view in the Guide II, 48, is similar: whatever is produced in time must have a proximate cause, which is also produced in time—a natural cause, in Spinoza’s terms—but the prophets sometimes omit these intermediate causes, and refer the events directly to God. Among the proximate causes omitted Maimonides includes free human choices. This will be a point of difference if Maimonides understands freedom as requiring an absence of causation. But on the face of it, that would be contrary to the causal principle he embraces. It appears that Maimonides was not consistent on this issue. Cf. Fox 1990, 87–88.

13. Exod. 1:7–11 suggests that the rapid growth in numbers, and consequent increasing power, of the Israelites prompted the Egyptians to reduce them to slavery.

14. Spinoza assumes the explanation of the rainbow offered by Descartes in his Météores, Discourse 8.

15. Exod. 10:13, 19 would be more exact.

16. That is, the east wind.

17. Spinoza’s account of this story—emphasizing that Elisha lay upon the boy several times (aliquoties)—seems closer to the version given in the Septuagint than to that in the Masoretic text. But he omits the detail we might find most significant: that Elisha seems to have used what we would call mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

18. John 9:6–7 relates that Jesus spat on the ground, made mud with the saliva, and applied the mud to the man’s eyes.

19. That is, to explain the event in terms of God’s decrees (the laws of nature) it is necessary also to understand the particular circumstances under which the laws were operating.

20. Spinoza refers here to the song ascribed to Moses in Exod. 15:1–18, which recapitulates in verse the prose account of the crossing of the Red Sea in Exod. 14.

21. Cf. i, 30–44.

22. ALM suggest Mark 10:51–52 and Luke 18:41–42 as examples of faith-healing. We might add Ps. 107:33–34 as an example of a land said to be barren because of men’s sins.

23. On the possible corruption of the text by pious frauds, see also vii, 3 and 25. See also Letter 76, IV/324a/5–10.

24. See ii, 26–27.

25. The first edition has Deut. 5:28, which seems to be clearly a mistake for 5:19 (in the numbering of the Hebrew Bible) or 5:22 (in the numbering of English versions).

26. Although Spinoza would endorse the conception of God which he here contrasts with that of the common people, his rejection of the anthropomorphism of Scripture (and of popular conceptions of God) is common among philosophical theologians. Cf., for example, Maimonides’ comments on the biblical passages which seem to imply that God has a place, and may move from one place to another, in the Guide I, 8–10. See also his comments on the Talmudic saying, “The Torah speaks in the language of the sons of man,” in Guide I, 26. That God is absolutely infinite—i.e., has infinitely many attributes, each of which is infinite in its own kind—is a position Spinoza shares with Descartes. Cf. Descartes’ discussion of the idea of God in the Third Meditation.

27. Cf. Maimonides Guide II, 47.

28. Isa. 13:13. Maimonides uses these examples to make the same point in Guide II, 29 (Gebhardt V, 41).

29. Cf. Maimonides Guide II, 48 (Gebhardt V, 42).

30. As Joël noted (1870), Maimonides discusses the passages cited in this paragraph in his Guide II, 28. Maimonides reminds us that some wished to suppress the book of Ecclesiastes as heretical.

31. A reference to Solomon. Cf. ii, 48n. The author of Ecclesiastes is identified in the first verse as Qoheleth, “the son of David, king in Jerusalem.” Qoheleth has usually been taken to mean “the Preacher,” or “the Teacher,” or more generally, “one who speaks to an assembly.” Spinoza’s identification of him as a philosopher is presumably based on his assumption that the author was Solomon and on Solomon’s reputation for wisdom.

32. It seems that Spinoza’s reference would more logically be to vv. 9–11.

33. I think that by the “rules derived from Scripture” Spinoza is referring to the points about Hebrew ways of speaking made in §§59–64.

34. Josephus, Antiquities II, xvi, 5, discussing the parting of the Red Sea. Shirley (2002) points out that Spinoza quotes Josephus from a fifteenth-century Latin translation by Rufinus Aquileiensis which was in his library, and which uses a phrase which makes no sense. Rather than go back to Josephus’ Greek, I’ve followed ALM in omitting the unintelligible phrase, which seems inessential to Spinoza’s point. Thackeray (LCL edition of Josephus) observes that the concluding sentence is a standard formula Josephus uses whenever he recounts a miracle. See his comment on i, 108, where the issue is the longevity of the biblical patriarchs. He reports that by the second century C.E. “this noncommittal attitude to the marvellous had become a rule for historians,” citing a passage from Lucian which reads (in the Fowler translation): “It may occasionally happen that some extraordinary story has to be introduced; it should be simply narrated, without guarantee of its truth, thrown down for anyone to make what he can of it; the writer takes no risks and shows no preference” (Lucian 1905, II, §60).

[III/97] CHAPTER VII

On the Interpretation of Scripture

[1] Everyone says that Sacred Scripture is the word of God, which teaches men true blessedness or the way to salvation. But their deeds [5] reveal a completely different view. For the common people seem to care nothing about living according to the teachings of Sacred Scripture. We see that almost everyone peddles his own inventions as the word of God,¹ concerned only to compel others to think as he does, under the pretext of religion. [2] We see that the Theologians have mainly [10] been anxious to twist their own inventions and fancies out of the Sacred Texts, to fortify them with divine authority. There’s nothing they do with less scruple, or greater recklessness, than interpret Scripture or the mind of the Holy Spirit. If they’re worried about anything, it’s not that they fear they may ascribe some error to the holy Spirit and stray [15] from the path to salvation, but that others may convict them of error, trampling on their authority and exposing them to scorn.

[3] But if men were sincere in what they say about Scripture, they would live very differently. These disagreements wouldn’t upset them so often; they wouldn’t quarrel with such hatred; and they wouldn’t be [20] in the grip of such a blind and reckless desire to interpret Scripture and think up new doctrines in Religion. On the contrary, they wouldn’t dare to embrace anything as the teaching of Scripture which it doesn’t teach with the greatest possible clarity. And finally, those sacrilegious people who have not been afraid to corrupt Scripture in so many passages [25] would have taken great care to avoid such a crime, and would have kept their sacrilegious hands away from those texts.²

[4] But in the end ambition and wickedness have been so powerful that religion is identified not so much with obeying the Holy Spirit as with defending human inventions, so that religion consists not in loving-kindness, but in spreading dissension among men, and in propagating [30] the most bitter hatred, which they shield under the false name of religious zeal and passionate devotion. To these evils we may add superstition, which teaches men to scorn reason and nature, and to [III/98] admire and venerate only what is contrary to both of these.

[5] So it’s no wonder that to admire and venerate Scripture more, men have been eager to explain it in a way that makes it seem as contrary as possible to both reason and nature. They dream that the most profound mysteries lie hidden in the Sacred Texts, wear themselves [5] out searching for these absurdities, neglecting the rest, which are useful. Whatever they invent in their madness they attribute to the Holy Spirit, and strive to defend with the utmost force and violent affects. That’s how men are made: what they conceive by the pure intellect, they defend only with the intellect and reason; but what they think [10] because of affects of the heart, they defend with those affects.

[6] To extricate ourselves from these confusions, to free our minds from theological prejudices, and to stop recklessly embracing men’s inventions as divine teachings, we must treat the true method of interpreting Scripture and discussing it. For as long as we are ignorant of [15] this, we cannot know anything with certainty about what either Scripture or the Holy Spirit wishes to teach.

To sum up briefly, I say that the method of interpreting Scripture does not differ at all from the method of interpreting nature, but agrees with it completely. [7] For the method of interpreting nature consists [20] above all in putting together a history of nature, from which, as from certain data, we infer the definitions of natural things. In the same way, to interpret Scripture it is necessary to prepare a straightforward history of Scripture and to infer from it the mind of Scripture’s authors, by legitimate inferences, as from certain data and principles. [8] For [25] in this way everyone—provided he has admitted no other principles or data for interpreting Scripture and discussing it than those drawn from Scripture itself and its history—everyone will always proceed without danger of error. He will be able to discuss the things which surpass our grasp as safely as those we know by the natural light.

[30] [9] But to establish clearly that this way is not only certain, but also the only way, and that it agrees with the method of interpreting nature, we must note that Scripture most often treats things which cannot be deduced from principles known to the natural light. For historical narratives and revelations make up the greatest part of it. [10] But the historical narratives give a prominent place to miracles, [III/99] i.e., (as we showed in the last Chapter) narratives of unusual events in nature, accommodated to the opinions and judgments of the historians who wrote them. Moreover, the revelations were also accommodated to the opinions of the Prophets (as we showed in the second Chapter); [5] they really surpass man’s power of understanding. So the knowledge of all these things, i.e., of almost everything in Scripture, must be sought only from Scripture itself, just as the knowledge of nature must be sought from nature itself.

[11] As for the moral teachings also contained in the Bible, although they can be demonstrated from common notions, still, it cannot be [10] demonstrated from these notions that Scripture teaches them. This can only be established from Scripture itself. Indeed, if we want to testify, without prejudice, to the divinity of Scripture, we must establish from Scripture alone that it teaches true moral doctrines. For only from this can its divinity be demonstrated. We have shown that the Prophets’ [15] certainty is known chiefly from the fact that they had a heart inclined toward the right and the good.³ So it’s necessary to establish the same thing for us also, if we’re to be able to have faith in them.⁴

[12] Moreover, we’ve also demonstrated already that the divinity of God cannot be proven by miracles (not to mention that miracles could [20] also be performed by false Prophets). So the divinity of Scripture must be established only by the fact that it teaches true virtue. But this can only be established by Scripture. If it could not be done, it would only be as a result of great prejudice that we would embrace it and testify to its divinity. Therefore, all knowledge of Scripture must be sought only from Scripture itself.⁵

[25] [13] Finally, Scripture does not give definitions of the things of which it speaks, any more than nature does. So just as the definitions of natural things are to be inferred from the different actions of nature, in the same way [the definitions of the things spoken of in Scripture] are to be drawn from the different narratives occurring in the Texts concerning them.

[30] [14] Therefore, the universal rule in interpreting Scripture is to attribute nothing to Scripture as its teaching which we have not understood as clearly as possible from its history. What sort of history must that be? What must it chiefly relate? These are the questions we must now answer.⁶

[15] First, it must contain the nature and properties of the language in which the books of Scripture were written, and which their Authors [III/100] were accustomed to speak. For in this way we shall be able to find out all the meanings each utterance can admit in ordinary conversational usage. And because all the writers, both of the Old Testament and the New, were Hebrews, it’s certain that the History of the Hebrew language [5] is necessary above all others, not only for understanding the books of the Old Testament, which were written in this language, but also for understanding those of the New. For though they’ve been circulated in other languages, nevertheless they are expressed in a Hebrew manner.⁷

[16] Second, it must collect the sentences of each book and organize them under main headings so that we can readily find all those [10] concerning the same subject. Next, it must note all those which are ambiguous or obscure or which seem inconsistent with one another. When I call these sentences clear or obscure here, I mean that it is easy or difficult to derive their meaning from the context of the utterance, not that it is easy or difficult to perceive their truth by reason. For we [15] are concerned only with the meaning of the utterances, not with their truth. [17] Indeed, we must take great care, so long as we are looking for the meaning of Scripture, not to be predisposed by our own reasoning, insofar as it is founded on the principles of natural knowledge (not to mention now our prejudices). In order not to confuse the true [20] meaning with the truth of things, we must seek that meaning solely from linguistic usage, or from reasoning which recognizes no other foundation than Scripture.⁸

To make this clearer, I’ll illustrate with an example. [18] These sentences of Moses—that God is a fire and that God is jealous⁹—are as clear as possible, so long as we attend only to the meaning of the words. So I count them among the clear sentences, even though they [25] are very obscure in relation to truth and reason. Indeed, although their literal meaning is contrary to the natural light, we must still retain that literal meaning, unless it is also clearly opposed to the principles and foundations derived from the history of Scripture. And conversely, if [30] we find that these sentences, in their literal interpretation, are contrary to principles derived from Scripture, they would still have to be interpreted differently (i.e., metaphorically), even though they agreed completely with reason.

[19] So to know whether Moses believed that God is a fire, we must in no way infer our answer from the fact that this sentence [taken literally] agrees with reason or is contrary to it. Instead, we must rely only [III/101] on other statements Moses himself made. Since Moses teaches clearly, in a great many places, that God has no likeness to any visible things in the heavens, on the earth, or in the sea,¹⁰ we must give a metaphorical explanation, either of this sentence or of all of the others. [20] But we [5] ought to depart from the literal meaning as little as possible. So we must first ask whether this one sentence, God is a fire, admits another meaning beyond the literal one, i.e., whether the term fire means something other than natural fire. If linguistic usage does not show that that term [10] can signify something else, then we must not interpret this sentence in any other way, no matter how contrary it may be to reason. Instead, we would have to accommodate the others [which say or entail that God is not a fire] to this one, however much the other statements agree with reason.

[21] But if linguistic usage does not offer us an alternative meaning, then these sentences would be irreconcilable, and we would have to [15] suspend judgment about them. However, because the term fire is also taken for anger and jealousy (see Job 31:12), these sentences of Moses are easily reconciled, and we legitimately infer that these two sentences, God is a fire and God is jealous, are one and the same [i.e., make one and the same statement].

[22] Next, since Moses clearly teaches that God is jealous, and nowhere teaches that God lacks passions or passive states of mind, from [20] this we must conclude without reservation that Moses believed this, or at least that he wished to teach it, however much we may believe that this opinion is contrary to reason.¹¹ For as we’ve already shown, it’s not permissible for us to twist the meaning of Scripture according to the dictates of our reason and according to our preconceived opinions. Our [25] whole knowledge of the Bible must be sought from the Bible alone.

[23] Finally, this history must describe fully, with respect to all the books of the Prophets, the circumstances of which a record has been preserved, viz. the life, character, and concerns of the author of each book, who he was, on what occasion he wrote, at what time, for whom [30] and finally, in what language. Next, it must relate the fate of each book: how it was first received, into whose hands it fell, how many different readings of it there were, by whose deliberation it was accepted among the sacred books, and finally, how all the books which everyone now acknowledges to be sacred came to be unified into one corpus.

The history of Scripture, I say, must contain all these things. [24] For [III/102] to know which sentences are put forward as laws and which as moral teachings, it’s important to know the life, character, and concerns of the author. Moreover, the better we know someone’s spirit and mentality, the more easily we can explain his words. Next, if we’re not to confuse eternal teachings with those which could be useful only for a time or [5] only for a few people, it’s important also to know on what occasion, at what time, and for which nation or age all these teachings were written.

[25] Finally, it’s important to know the other things I’ve also mentioned, in order to know, in addition to the authority of each book, whether it could have been corrupted by falsifying hands, and whether [10] errors have crept in, and whether they have been corrected by men sufficiently expert and worthy of trust.¹² We absolutely need to know all these things, so that we may embrace only what is certain and indubitable, and not be carried away by a blind impulse to accept whatever has been thrust upon us.

[15] [26] Once we have this history of Scripture, and have firmly resolved to maintain nothing as certainly the teaching of the Prophets unless it follows from this history, or is derived from it as clearly as possible, then it will be time for us to prepare to investigate the intentions of the Prophets and the Holy Spirit. To do this we also need a method and [20] order like the one we use for interpreting nature according to its history.

[27] In examining natural things we strive to investigate first the things most universal and common to the whole of nature: motion and rest, and their laws and rules, which nature always observes and through which it continuously acts. From these we proceed gradually [25] to other, less universal things.¹³ In the same way, the first thing we must seek from the history of Scripture is what is most universal, what is the basis and foundation of the whole of Scripture, and finally, what all the Prophets commend in it as an eternal teaching, most useful for all [30] mortals. For example, that a unique and omnipotent God exists, who alone is to be worshipped, who cares for all, and who loves above all those who worship him and who love their neighbor as themselves, etc.¹⁴

[28] Scripture, I say, teaches these and similar things everywhere, so clearly and so explicitly that there has never been anyone who disputed the meaning of Scripture concerning these things. But what God is, [III/103] and in what way he sees all things, and provides for them—these and similar things Scripture does not teach explicitly and as an eternal doctrine. On the contrary, we have already shown above that the Prophets themselves did not agree about them. So concerning such things we must maintain nothing as the doctrine of the Holy Spirit, even if it [5] can be determined very well by the natural light.

[29] Once we rightly know this universal teaching of Scripture, we must next proceed to other, less universal things, which nevertheless concern how we ordinarily conduct our lives and which flow from this universal teaching like streams. Examples would include all the particular external actions of true virtue, which can only be put into [10] practice when the occasion for them arises. Whatever is found to be obscure or ambiguous in the Texts about these things must be explained and determined according to the universal teaching of Scripture. But if we find any things which are contrary to one another, we must see on what occasion, and at what time, and for whom they were written.

[30] For example, when Christ says blessed are those who mourn, for [15] they shall receive comfort [Matthew 5:4], we do not know from this Text what kind of mourner he means. But because he teaches later that we should be apprehensive about nothing except the kingdom of God and his justice, which he commends as the supreme good (see Matthew 6:33), from this it follows that by mourners he understands only those who mourn for the kingdom of God and the justice men have [20] neglected. For this is the only thing they can mourn, who love nothing but the divine kingdom or righteousness, and who completely disdain what fortune may bring.

[31] So also, when he says to a man who strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also, and what follows [Matthew 5:39ff.]. If Christ had ordered this to judges, as a Lawgiver, he would have destroyed the [25] law of Moses with this precept. Nevertheless, he advises us expressly that this is not his intention. See Matthew 5:17. So we must consider who said these things, to whom they were said, and when.

[32] It was Christ who spoke. And he did not institute laws as a lawgiver; instead as a teacher he taught lessons, because (as we have shown above)¹⁵ he did not want to correct external actions so much as [30] the heart. Secondly, he said these things to oppressed men, who were living in a corrupt republic, where justice was completely neglected. Finally, he said it at a time when he saw that the ruin of the republic was near at hand.¹⁶ But we have seen that the very same thing Christ teaches here, when the ruin of the City is at hand, Jeremiah¹⁷ also taught at the first destruction of the City, i.e., at a similar time (see Lamentations 3:25–30). [33] So the Prophets taught this only in a [III/104] time of oppression, and nowhere put it forward as a law. By contrast, Moses, who wasn’t writing at a time of oppression, but (note this) was working for the institution of a good republic, commanded that an eye be paid for an eye¹⁸—although he also condemned vengeance and hatred of one’s neighbor.

[5] From this it follows very clearly, just from the fundamental principles of Scripture, that this teaching of Christ and Jeremiah that we should submit to injuries, and yield to the impious in everything, is appropriate only in those places where justice is neglected and in times of oppression, but not in a good republic. Indeed, in a good republic, where [10] justice is preserved, everyone is bound, if he wants to be thought just, to exact a penalty for injuries in the presence of a judge (see Leviticus 5:1)—not for the sake of vengeance (see Leviticus 19:17–18), but with the intention of defending justice and the laws of one’s native land, and so that the evil should not profit by being evil.¹⁹ [34] All these things also agree completely with natural reason.

I could cite many other examples in this manner, but I think these [15] will suffice to explain what I intend, and how useful this method is. That’s all I care about for the present. But so far we have taught only the method of investigating those statements of Scripture which concern the way we should conduct our lives, and which therefore can be investigated more easily. For really there was never any dispute among the Writers of the Bible on these matters.

[20] [35] The other things which occur in the Texts, which are matters of pure speculation, cannot be investigated so easily. For the path to these is narrower. As we’ve already shown,²⁰ the Prophets disagreed among themselves in speculative matters, and their narrations of things were very much accommodated to the prejudices of each age. So it is not at [25] all permissible for us to infer or explain the intention of one Prophet from the clearer passages of another, unless it is established with the utmost clarity that they both favored one and the same opinion.

[36] Therefore I shall now explain briefly how in such matters the intention of the Prophets is to be unearthed from the history of Scripture. Concerning these matters too, we must begin with the things [30] which are most universal, inquiring first from the clearest statements of Scripture, to find out what Prophecy or revelation is, and in what it chiefly consists. Next we must ask what a miracle is, and so on, with the things which are most common. From there we must descend to the opinions of each Prophet. And from these things finally we must proceed to the meaning of each revelation or Prophecy, of each story, [III/105] and of each miracle.

[37] We must use great caution here not to confuse the intention of the Prophets and Historians with that of the Holy Spirit or with the truth of the matter. We’ve shown this already in the appropriate places, with many examples. So I don’t consider it necessary to discuss these things at greater length. Still, there’s one point we must make [5] about the meaning of revelations: this method teaches us only how to seek out what the Prophets really saw or heard, not what they wanted to signify or represent by those symbols. For we can conjecture this, but not deduce it with certainty from the foundations of Scripture.

[38] We’ve shown, then, the way to interpret Scripture, and at the [10] same time demonstrated that this is the only way to find its true meaning with great certainty. Of course, if anyone has a certain tradition about this, or a true explanation received from the Prophets themselves (as the Pharisees claim), I concede that he is more certain of the meaning of Scripture. Similarly, if anyone has a High Priest who cannot err [15] concerning the interpretation of Scripture (as the Roman Catholics boast). [39] Nevertheless, since we cannot be certain, either of this tradition or of the authority of the High Priest, we also cannot found anything certain on these things. For the most ancient Sects of the Christians denied [the authority of the Pope], and the most ancient Sects of the Jews denied [the Pharisaic tradition]. Moreover—not to [20] mention other objections now—if we pay attention to the chronology the Pharisees received from their Rabbis, by which they extend this tradition all the way back to Moses, we shall find that it is false, as I show elsewhere.²¹

[40] So a tradition like that must be very suspect to us. It’s true that in our Method we are compelled to suppose that one tradition of the [25] Jews is uncorrupted: the meaning of the words of the Hebrew language, which we have accepted from them. But though we don’t doubt that tradition at all, we still doubt the tradition [about the meaning of passages in Scripture]. For it could never be to anyone’s advantage to change the meaning of a word; but it could often be to someone’s advantage [30] to change the meaning of an utterance. [41] It’s extremely difficult to change the meaning of a word. Anyone who tried to do this would be forced, as part of the process, to explain all the authors who wrote in that language and used that word in its accepted meaning. Either he would have to do this according to the temperament and mind of each author, or else he would have to distort them very carefully.

[42] Moreover, both the common people and the learned preserve language; but only the learned preserve books and the meanings of utterances. So we can easily conceive that the learned could have [III/106] changed or corrupted the meaning of an utterance in some very rare book which they had in their 'power,²² but not that they could have changed the meaning of words. Moreover, if someone wants to change the meaning of some word to which he has become accustomed, it will be difficult for him to observe the new meaning afterward both in [5] speaking and in writing. [43] These and other reasons easily persuade us that it could not occur to anyone to corrupt a language, but that it could often occur to someone to corrupt the intention of a Writer by changing his utterances or by misinterpreting them.

This method of ours, founded on the principle that the knowledge [10] of Scripture is to be sought only from Scripture, is the only true method [of interpreting Scripture]. So whatever it cannot furnish for acquiring a complete knowledge of Scripture, we must absolutely give up as hopeless. [44] But now we must say what difficulty this method involves, or what is to be desired in it, for it to be able to lead us to a complete and certain knowledge of the Sacred Texts.

[15] To begin with, a great difficulty in this method arises from the fact that it requires a complete knowledge of the Hebrew language. But where is this now to be sought? [45] Those who spoke and wrote Hebrew in ancient times left nothing to posterity regarding its foundations and teaching. Or at least we have absolutely nothing from them: no Dictionary, [20] no Grammar, no Rhetoric. Moreover, the Hebrew nation has lost all its marks of distinction and honor—this is no wonder, after it has suffered so many disasters and persecutions—and has retained only some few fragments of its language and of a few books. For almost all the names of fruits, birds, fish, and many other things have perished in [25] the injustice of the ages. Again, the meaning of many nouns and verbs which occur in the Bible is either completely unknown or is disputed.

[46] We lack, not only all these things, but also and especially, a phraseology of this language. For time, the devourer, has obliterated from the memory of men almost all the idioms and manners of speaking peculiar to the Hebrew nation. Therefore, we will not always be [30] able, as we desire, to find out, with respect to each utterance, all the meanings it can admit according to linguistic usage. Many utterances will occur whose meaning will be very obscure, indeed, completely incomprehensible, even though they are expressed in well-known terms.

[47] In addition to the fact that we cannot have a complete history of the Hebrew language, there is the very nature and constitution of [III/107] this language. So many ambiguities arise from this that it is impossible to devise a method²³** which will teach you how to find out with certainty the true meaning of all the utterances of Scripture. For besides the causes of ambiguity common to all languages there are certain others in this language from which a great many ambiguities are born. [5] I consider it worth the trouble to note these here.

[48] First, ambiguity and obscurity of utterances often arises in the Bible because the letters of the same organ are confused. The Hebrews divide all the letters of the Alphabet into five classes according to the five parts of the mouth used in pronunciation: the lips, the tongue, the [10] teeth, the palate, and the throat. E.g., aleph, א, het, ח, ayin, ע, and he, ה, are called gutturals and are used for one another without any distinction, or at least without any known to us. So אל, el, which means to, is often taken for על, hgal, which means over, and vice versa. As a result, all the parts of an utterance are often made either ambiguous or sounds [15] which have no meaning.

[49] A second cause of the ambiguity of utterances is the multiple meanings which conjunctions and adverbs have. For example, ו, vau, is used indiscriminately for conjoining and disjoining and means and, but, because, also, then. כי, ki, has seven or eight meanings: because, although, [20] if, when, as, that, burning, etc. Almost all the particles are like this.

[50] A third cause, which is the source of many ambiguities, is that the verbs in the Indicative lack the Present, Imperfect, Pluperfect, Future perfect, and other tenses commonly used in other languages. Moreover, [25] in the Imperative and the Infinitive, they lack all except the Present; and in the Subjunctive, they lack all tenses without exception. And although all these defects of Tenses and Moods could easily—indeed, with the greatest elegance—have been made up by certain rules deduced from the foundations of the language, nevertheless, the most ancient writers completely neglected them, and indiscriminately used the Future tense [30] for the Present and the Past, and on the other hand, the Past for the Future, and the Indicative for the Imperative and Subjunctive. This causes great ambiguity in the utterances.

[51] In addition to these three causes of ambiguity in the Hebrew language, there are still two others to be noted, each of which is of far greater importance. First, the Hebrews do not have letters for vowels. [III/108] Second, they were not accustomed to use any signs [of punctuation] to separate their utterances, or to make their meaning more explicit or emphasize them. [52] And although the lack of these two, viz. vowels and signs of punctuation, is usually made up by points and accents, nevertheless we cannot trust these, since they have been devised and [5] established by men of a later age, whose authority ought to be worth nothing to us. The ancients wrote without points (i.e., without vowels and accents), as is established by many testimonies. Those who came later added these two things, as it seemed to them proper to interpret the Bible. So the accents and points which we have now are only modern [10] interpretations, and do not deserve any more trust or authority than any other explanations of the authors.

[53] Those who don’t know this and also don’t know how they ought to excuse the author of the Epistle to the Hebrews, who (in 11:21) interprets the text of Genesis 47:31 very differently than it is taken [15] in the pointed Hebrew text, as if the Apostle ought to have learned the meaning of Scripture from those who added the points. To me, of course, it seems rather that those who added the points are to be blamed. So that everyone may see this, and at the same time see that this discrepancy has arisen only from the lack of vowels, I shall set out each of the two interpretations.

[54] Those who added the points, by their points, interpreted the [20] text to read and Israel bent over, or (changing ayin, ע, to aleph, א, a letter of the same organ) toward the head of the bed. But the Author of the letter interpreted the text to read and Israel bent over the head of his staff, reading מטה, mate [staff], where others read מטה, mita [bed], a difference which arises only from the vowels. Now since, in that narrative, it is a question only of Jacob’s old age, but not, as in the following chapter, [25] of his illness, it seems really more probable that the meaning of the historian was that Jacob bent over the head of his staff (which elderly men need to hold themselves up), not over the head of the bed, especially since in this way it is not necessary to suppose any change of letters.

[55] By this example I didn’t want just to reconcile that passage [30] of the Letter to the Hebrews with the text of Genesis, but mainly to show how little trust we should put in the modern points and accents. Anyone who wants to interpret Scripture without prejudice is bound to doubt these matters, and to reexamine them.

[III/109] [56] Let’s return now to our subject. From the constitution and nature of the Hebrew language anyone can easily conclude that so many ambiguities must occur that there can be no method for resolving all of them. We’ve shown that the only way of unearthing the true meaning [5] from the many which linguistic usage makes possible is the mutual comparison of utterances. But there’s no reason we should hope to be able to do this in every case. There are two reasons for this. First, it’s only by chance that the comparison of utterances can throw light on an utterance. No Prophet wrote with the intention of explaining the words of another Prophet; they didn’t even write to explain their own [10] words! Second, we cannot infer the mind of one Prophet, Apostle, etc., from that of another except in matters concerning the conduct of life—not when they speak concerning speculative matters or when they relate miracles and historical narratives. We’ve already shown this quite plainly.²⁴

[57] I could show, by various examples, that there are many inexplicable [15] utterances in Holy Scripture. But for the present I prefer to pass over them, and to proceed to the other things which need to be noted: namely, what difficulty this true method of interpreting Scripture still contains, or what is lacking in it.

[58] There is yet another difficulty in this method: it requires a history [20] of the circumstances of all the books of Scripture. For the most part we do not know this history. Either we are completely ignorant of the authors (or, if you prefer, Writers)²⁵ of many of the books, or else we have doubts about them. I shall show this fully in what follows. Moreover, for the books whose Writers we do not know, we also do not know on what occasion or at what time the books were written. [25] In addition, we do not know into whose hands all the books fell, nor in which copies so many different readings were found, nor, finally, whether there were not many other readings in other copies.

[59] Why it matters to know all these things, I’ve indicated briefly in the proper place. But there I deliberately omitted certain things we [30] now need to consider. If we read a book which contains incredible or incomprehensible things, or is written in very obscure terms, and we don’t know its author, or when or on what occasion it was written, it will be pointless for us to try to become more certain of its true meaning. [60] If we’re ignorant of all these things, we can’t know anything [III/110] about what the author intended, or could have intended. On the other hand, when we know these things properly, we determine our thoughts in such a way that we’re not predisposed by any prejudice. So we don’t attribute to the author—or to the one on whose behalf the author wrote—more or less than is just. And we don’t think about any things other than those the author could have had in mind, or which [5] the time and occasion required.

I think everyone knows this. [61] It often happens that we read similar stories in different books and make very different judgments about them, according to the different opinions we have of their writers. I [10] know I once read in a book that a man named Orlando the furious²⁶ used to ride a winged monster in the air, that he flew over whatever regions he wanted to, and that by himself he slaughtered an immense number of men and giants. The book contained other fantasies of this kind, which are completely incomprehensible from the standpoint of the intellect. [62] I’d also read a similar story in Ovid, about Perseus,²⁷ and [15] finally, another, in the books of Judges and Kings, about Samson, who, alone and unarmed, slaughtered thousands of men, and about Elijah, who flew through the air, and at last went up into heaven in a chariot of fire, with horses of fire.²⁸ These stories, I say, are completely similar. Nevertheless, we make a very different judgment about each of them: [20] that the first wanted to write only trifles, the second, political matters, and the third, finally, sacred matters.²⁹ And we persuade ourselves of this only because of the opinions we have of these writers.

[63] So it’s clear that for writings which are obscure or incomprehensible to the intellect, we must have some knowledge of the authors [25] if we want to interpret their writings. And for the same reasons, when we have different versions of obscure stories, if we are to select the true reading, we need to know in whose copies the different readings are found, and whether still other readings have ever been found in the writings of other men of greater authority.

[30] [64] There’s one final difficulty in interpreting certain books of Scripture according to this method: we don’t possess them in the same language in which they were first written. For according to the common opinion, the Gospel of Matthew, and no doubt also the Letter to the Hebrews, were written in Hebrew.³⁰ Nevertheless, these [original texts] are not extant. Moreover, regarding the book of Job there is doubt [III/111] about what language it was written in. In his commentaries Ibn Ezra affirms that it has been translated from another language into Hebrew, and that this is the reason for its obscurity.³¹ I say nothing about the apocryphal books, since they are of greatly different authority.

[65] These are all the difficulties I had undertaken to recount arising [5] from this method of interpreting Scripture according to the history available to us. I consider them so great that I don’t hesitate to say this: in a great many places either we don’t know what Scripture really means or we’re just guessing about its meaning without any certainty.

[66] On the other hand, we should note again that all these difficulties [10] can prevent us from grasping the intention of the Prophets only concerning things we can’t perceive and can only imagine—not concerning things we can grasp with the intellect and easily form a clear concept of.³²** For things which by their nature are easily perceived can’t be said so obscurely that they aren’t easily understood. As the proverb says: to one who understands a word is enough.³³

[15] [67] Euclid wrote only about things quite simple and most intelligible. Anyone can easily explain his work in any language. To grasp his intention and be certain of his true meaning we don’t need a complete knowledge of the language he wrote in, but only a quite ordinary—almost childish!—knowledge. Nor do we need to know about his life, [20] concerns and customs, or in what language, to whom and when he wrote, or the fate of his book, or its various readings, or how and by whose deliberation it was accepted.

[68] What I’ve said here about Euclid must be said about everyone who has written about things by their nature perceptible. So we conclude that the history available to us is enough to enable us to easily [25] grasp the intention of Scripture concerning moral teachings. In that area we can be certain of its true meaning. For the teachings of true piety are expressed in the most familiar words, since they are very ordinary and no less simple and easy to understand. And because true [30] salvation and blessedness consists in true peace of mind, and we truly find peace only in those things we understand very clearly, [69] from this it follows with utmost clarity that we can grasp with certainty the intention of Scripture concerning things salutary and necessary for blessedness. There’s no reason why we should be apprehensive about the rest. Since for the most part we cannot embrace these other things by [III/112] reason and the intellect, this would show more curiosity than concern for our advantage.

With this I think I have shown the true method of interpreting Scripture and explained my opinion about it adequately. [70] No doubt everyone now sees that this method requires no light beyond the natural [5] light itself. For the nature and excellence of this light consists above all in this: that by legitimate principles of inference it deduces and infers things obscure from things known, or given as known. Our method requires nothing else. We grant that it doesn’t suffice for tracking down, with certainty, everything in the Bible. Still, that doesn’t arise [10] from any defect in the method, but from this: the way it teaches to be true and right has never been practiced or commonly used by men. So with the passage of time this way has become very difficult, and almost impenetrable. I think the difficulties I’ve raised establish this very clearly.

[71] Now it’s time to examine the opinions of those who disagree [15] with us. First, we must examine the opinion of those who maintain that the natural light does not have the power to interpret Scripture, but that a supernatural light is most necessary for this.³⁴ What this light is beyond the natural light, I leave it to them to explain. [72] For my part, I can only conjecture that they too wished to confess, though in [20] rather obscure terms, that for the most part they are in doubt about the true meaning of Scripture. For if we look at their explanations, we find that they contain nothing beyond the natural, indeed, nothing but mere conjectures. Compare them, if you will, with the explanations of those who confess candidly that they have no light beyond the natural. [25] You’ll find them to be completely similar: human, long pondered, and laboriously devised.

[73] As for their contention that the natural light does not suffice for the interpretation of Scripture, two things show that this is false: first, as we’ve already demonstrated, the difficulties of interpreting Scripture have not arisen from a defect in the powers of the natural light, but only from the negligence (not to say wickedness) of the men who were [30] indifferent to the history of Scripture while they could still construct it; and second, this supernatural light is a divine gift granted only to the faithful. (Unless I’m mistaken, everyone acknowledges this second point.)³⁵ [74] But the Prophets and the Apostles were accustomed to preach, not only to the faithful, but for the most part to the impious and those lacking in faith. So those people were capable of understanding [III/113] the Prophets’ and Apostles’ meaning. Otherwise, it would have seemed that the Prophets and Apostles were preaching to small children and infants, not to men endowed with reason. Moreover, Moses would have prescribed laws in vain, if they could be understood only by the faithful, who require no law. So those who demand a supernatural light [5] to understand the Prophets’ and Apostles’ meaning obviously seem to be lacking in the natural light themselves. Far be it from me, then, to judge that such people possess a supernatural divine gift.

[75] Maimonides’ opinion was quite different. He thought that each passage of Scripture admits various (indeed, contrary) meanings, and that we aren’t certain of the true meaning of any passage unless [10] we know that, as we interpret it, it contains nothing which does not agree with reason, or which is contrary to it. If it’s found that its literal meaning is contrary to reason—no matter how clear the literal meaning seemed to be—he thinks it should still be interpreted differently. [76] He indicates this as clearly as possible in The Guide of the Perplexed (II, 25), for he says:

[15] דע כי אין בריחתנו מן המאמר בקדמות העולם מפני הכתובים אשר באו בתורה בהיות העולם מחודש כי אין הכתובים המורים על חדוש העולם יותר מן הכתובים המורים על היות השם גשם ולא שערי הפירוש סתומים בפנינו ולא נמנעים לנו בעניין חדוש העולם אבל היה אפשר לנו לפרשם כמו שעשינו בהרחקת הגשמות ואולי זה היה יותר קל הרבה והיינו [20] יכולים יותר לפרש הפסוקים ההם ולהעמיד קדמות העולם כמו שפרשנו הפסוקים והרחקנו היותו יתברך גשם וגו

Know that it isn’t the scriptural texts concerning the creation of the world which deter us from saying that the world has existed from eternity. For the texts which teach that the world is created are no more numerous than those which teach that God is corporeal; we are not without [25] opportunities for explaining them. We’re not even hindered, but could have explained the texts concerning the creation of the world as we did when we denied that God is corporeal. Perhaps this would have been much easier to do; perhaps we could have explained them and laid a foundation for the eternity of the world more conveniently than when [30] we explained the Scriptures to get rid of the doctrine that the blessed God is corporeal. But two reasons move me not to do this, and not to believe this (i.e., that the world is eternal):

1) because it is established by a clear demonstration that God is not corporeal, and it is necessary to explain all those passages whose literal meaning is contrary to the demonstration; for it is certain that they must then have an explanation (other than the literal explanation); but [III/114] the eternity of the world is not shown by any demonstration; so it is not necessary to do violence to the Scriptures and to smooth them out³⁶ for the sake of a merely probable opinion, to whose contrary we could incline, if some reason should persuade us; and

2) because to believe that God is incorporeal is not contrary to the fundamentals [5] of the Law, etc.; but to believe in the eternity of the world, in the way in which Aristotle did, destroys the foundation of the law, etc.

[77] These are Maimonides’ words. From them it clearly follows [that he thought we must interpret Scripture so as to make it consistent with reason]. For if he thought it was established by reason that the world is eternal, he would not hesitate to twist Scripture and to [10] smooth it out so that in the end it would seem to teach this very thing. Indeed, he would immediately be certain that, however much Scripture everywhere expressly protested against it, nevertheless it meant to teach this eternity of the world. This means he can’t be certain of the true meaning of Scripture, however clear it may be, so long as he can doubt whether the proposition it seems to assert is true, or [15] so long as he thinks the truth of that proposition has not been established. For so long as the truth of the matter is not established, we don’t know whether the thing agrees with reason or is contrary to it. So [on this theory] we wouldn’t know whether the literal meaning is the correct interpretation or not.

[78] If [Maimonides’] opinion were true, I would concede, absolutely, that we need some other light beyond the natural to interpret Scripture. [20] For (as we’ve already shown)³⁷ hardly any of the things found in these Texts can be deduced from principles known by the natural light. So the power of the natural light can’t establish anything for us about their truth, and hence, can’t establish anything for us about Scripture’s true meaning and intention. For this we would need another light.

[79] Again, if this opinion were true, it would follow that the common [25] people, who for the most part have no knowledge of demonstrations, and don’t have time for them, wouldn’t be able to accept anything about Scripture except on the authority and testimonies of those who philosophize. They’d have to suppose that the Philosophers can’t err concerning the interpretation of Scripture. This would obviously introduce [30] a new authority into the Church, and a new kind of priest, or a High Priest, which the people would mock rather than venerate.

[80] It’s true that our method requires knowledge of the Hebrew language, and that the common people don’t have time for studying that either. Still, we’re not vulnerable to an analogous objection. For the ordinary Jews and gentiles to whom the Prophets and Apostles preached long ago, and for whom they wrote, understood the language [III/115] the Prophets and Apostles used. This knowledge of the language enabled them to grasp the Prophets’ meaning. But it didn’t enable them to grasp the reasons for the things they preached. On Maimonides’ view, to be able to grasp the Prophets’ meaning they would also have had to know those reasons.

[81] From the nature of our method, then, it doesn’t follow that [5] the common people must trust in the testimony of interpreters. For I point out ordinary people who knew the language of the Prophets and Apostles; but Maimonides does not point to any ordinary people who understand the causes of things, from which they might grasp the Prophets’ and Apostles’ meaning.

[82] As for today’s common people, we’ve already shown [§§68–69] that everything necessary for salvation can easily be grasped in any [10] language, even though the reasons for them aren’t known, because they are so ordinary and familiar. This grasp is what the common people trust, not the testimony of interpreters. As for the things [not necessary for salvation], in those matters they share the same fate as the learned.

[83] But let’s return to Maimonides and examine his opinion more [15] carefully. First, he presupposes that the Prophets agreed among themselves in everything, and that they were Philosophers and Theologians of the highest caliber. For he maintains that they drew their conclusions from the truth of the matter. But we have shown in Chapter 2 that this is false.

[84] Next, he supposes that the meaning of Scripture can’t be established from Scripture itself. For the truth of things isn’t established [20] from Scripture itself (since it demonstrates nothing and doesn’t teach the subjects it treats through definitions and first causes). So in Maimonides’ opinion, the true meaning of Scripture can’t be established from Scripture, and so, shouldn’t be sought from Scripture. But we’ve established in this chapter that this too is false. For we’ve shown, both [25] by reason and by examples, that the meaning of Scripture is established only from Scripture itself, and must be sought from Scripture itself alone, even when it speaks of things known by the natural light.

[85] Finally, he presupposes that we’re permitted to explain and twist the words of Scripture according to our preconceived opinions, to deny their literal meaning (even when that meaning is most clearly perceived [30] or most explicit), and to change it into any other meaning we like. Quite apart from the fact that this license is diametrically opposed to the things we’ve demonstrated in this Chapter (and in others), everyone sees that it’s excessive and rash.

[86] But suppose we grant him this great freedom. What good will that do? None, of course. For we won’t be able to investigate in this way things which can’t be demonstrated. These make up the greatest [III/116] part of Scripture. And we won’t be able to explain or interpret them according to this standard. By contrast, following our method we can explain most of these passages, and discuss them with confidence. We’ve already shown this, both by reason and by example. As for the [5] things perceivable by their nature, we can easily elicit their meaning just from the context of the utterances. We’ve already shown this too. So Maimonides’ method is utterly useless.

[87] Furthermore, his method completely takes away all the certainty the common people can have about the meaning of Scripture from a natural reading of it, and which everyone can have by following another [10] method. So we condemn Maimonides’ opinion as not only useless, but harmful and absurd.

[88] As for the Pharisees’ tradition, we’ve already said above [§§38–39] that it’s not consistent. Moreover, we’ve said [ibid.] that the Roman Pontiffs’ authority needs a clearer testimony. I reject it for this reason alone. For if the Roman Pontiffs could establish it [15] for us from Scripture as certainly as the Jewish High Priests previously did, I would not be at all upset by the fact that there were heretics and impious men among them. After all, there were also heretics and impious men among the High Priests of the Hebrews, men who achieved the Priesthood by perverse means, but who still had, according to the command of Scripture, the supreme 'power of [20] interpreting the law. See Deuteronomy 17:11–12, 33:10, Malachi 2:8. [89] But since [the Popes] show us no such testimony, their authority remains highly suspect.

In case anyone should be deceived by the example of the High Priest of the Hebrews into thinking that the Universal religion also requires a Pontiff, it should be noted that because the laws of Moses [25] were the public legislation of their Country, they required, if they were to be preserved, a certain public authority. For if each person had the freedom to interpret the public legislation according to his own will, no republic could survive. It would immediately be dissolved by this very fact, and the public legislation would be private legislation. [90] But the nature of Religion is very different. For since it consists not so [30] much in external actions as in simplicity and honesty of heart, it is not the domain of any public legislation or public authority. For simplicity and honesty of heart are not instilled in men by the command of laws or by public authority, and absolutely no one can be compelled by force or by laws to become blessed. For this what is required is pious and brotherly advice, good education, and above all, one’s own free judgment.

[III/117] [91] Therefore, since each person has the supreme right to think freely, even about Religion, and it’s inconceivable that anyone can abandon his claim to this right, each person will also have the supreme right and the supreme authority to judge freely concerning Religion, and [5] hence to explain it and interpret it for himself. [92] For the supreme authority to interpret the laws, and the supreme judgment concerning public affairs, are lodged with the magistrates only because those are matters of public right. So for the same reason the supreme authority to explain religion, and to judge about it, will be in each person’s hands, because it is a matter of each person’s right.

[10] [93] It is, therefore, far from true that we can infer the authority of the Roman Pontiff to interpret religion from the authority of the Hebrew Priests to interpret the laws of their Country. On the contrary, we can more easily infer from [the authority of the Priests] that each of us has that authority to the greatest extent possible.

[94] And we can also show from this that our method of interpreting [15] Scripture is the best. For since each person has the utmost authority to interpret Scripture, the standard of interpretation must be nothing but the natural light common to all, not any supernatural light or external authority. [The standard of interpretation] must also [20] be not so difficult that only the most acute Philosophers can apply it; it must be accommodated to the natural and common human mentality and capacity. We have shown that our method satisfies this condition. For we have shown that the difficulties [our method] now has have arisen from men’s negligence, and not from the nature of the method.

1. A recurrence of the theme first mentioned in the Preface, §20, which will return in xiv, 1.

2. A recurrence of the theme first mentioned in vi, 51. Gebhardt argues that Spinoza’s reference to sacrilegious men is aimed at the Pharisees, appealing to a report by Salomon van Til (V, 43–44). ALM are skeptical.

3. Spinoza refers here to ii, 4–10, where he had argued that, in addition to a sign, the moral rectitude of the prophet was a necessary condition for his certainty regarding the truth of the prophetic message.

4. I take this to mean that if we are to have confidence in the truth of the moral teachings we find in Scripture, we must first establish that our hearts are inclined toward the right and the good. If we assume that knowing that our hearts are so inclined requires at least a basic knowledge of the right and the good, this seems to entail that Scripture cannot be our sole, or even most fundamental, source of moral knowledge.

5. That our knowledge of Scripture must be sought only from Scripture itself is a fundamental Reformation principle, advocated by both Luther and Calvin, for whom it was essential in maintaining the status of Scripture as the final authority in matters of Christian doctrine. Cf. Althaus 1966, ch. 9, and John Thomson, ch. 4 in McKim 2004. See also the Westminster Confession, I, ix: “The infallible rule of interpretation of Scripture is the Scripture itself: and therefore, when there is a question about the true and full sense of any Scripture (which is not manifold, but one), it must be searched and known by other places that speak more clearly.” Note that this rule of interpretation assumes the fundamental consistency of Scripture, a principle Spinoza rejected as an a priori assumption in the Preface, §19.

6. Spinoza’s requirements for a history of Scripture are set out in three sections of unequal length. First, it must contain an account of the nature and properties of the language of Scripture (§15); next, it must contain a subject index (§§16–22); and finally, it must contain an account of the authorship, intended audience, reception, transmission, and canonization of the work (§23). This history of Scripture only provides us with the tools we need to apply the method for interpreting Scripture which Spinoza will expound in §§27–37. It is not evident that we can compile a history of Scripture, in the sense Spinoza has in mind, consistently with the principle that our knowledge of Scripture must be derived only from Scripture itself.

7. Note that Spinoza does not say that the New Testament was written in a language other than Hebrew, only that it circulated in such a language. Apparently he does not say it was written in Greek because he does not believe that. See ADN. XXVI, attached to xi, 3. The adnotations were not published until after Spinoza’s death. In some cases—notably, ADN. XXI—they contain material Spinoza seems to have regarded as highly sensitive, and perhaps dangerous to publish during his lifetime.

8. Here Spinoza applies the principle, announced in the Preface, §19, that we must not assume, in advance of determining the meaning of Scripture, that it is true and divine. We must first determine what Scripture means, and then make whatever inferences seem appropriate about its truth and divinity.

9. Both claims are made in Deut. 4:24. See also Exod. 20:5, 34:14; Deut. 5:9; and—to take a New Testament text which Spinoza believes was originally written in Hebrew (vii, 64)—Heb. 12:29.

10. Cf. ii, 36 and 43. When Maimonides defends the claim that God has no likeness to any existing thing (Guide I, 55), his scriptural evidence comes from Isaiah (40:18, 25) and Jeremiah (10:6), not any books Moses is supposed to have written. He might have cited Exod. 8:10, 9:14, 15:11, or Deut. 33:26, 29.

11. ALM note two passages in the Metaphysical Thoughts where Spinoza explains why it might be thought contrary to reason to ascribe passions to God: in CM ii, 4, he argues that God cannot be changed by an external cause; and in CM ii, 8, he argues that we speak improperly if we say that God hates some things and loves others. In the Ethics Spinoza will argue, not only that God is without passions, but more generally, that he does not have any affects of joy or sadness, even active ones (V P17). Spinoza will return to this example in xv, 15.

12. Gebhardt (V, 45–46) calls attention to a passage from the epilogue of Ludwig Meyer’s Philosophy the Interpreter of Holy Scripture which makes it clear that he and Spinoza were both concerned with this issue. See Meyer 1666, 231. Totaro (vii, n. 40) cites an interesting passage from Richard Simon’s Histoire critique du Vieux Testament, in which he concedes that there have been many changes made in the texts by later authors, but claims that this fact does not impugn the authority of Scripture, because the authors of these changes were inspired by God (Simon 1678, Préface, a2).

13. Cf. Spinoza’s geometric exposition of Cartesian physics, in Part II of his Descartes’ “Principles of Philosophy” (in Volume I of this edition, pp. 262ff.).

14. Here, and later, in xii, 34–36, Spinoza will give the impression that the prophets consistently taught monotheism. Prima facie this is inconsistent with his attribution of monolatry to Moses in ii, 37. But this passage does neatly express his preference for the teachings of the later prophets.

15. See iv, 30–34; v, 8–9.

16. Perhaps a reference to Luke 19:41–44.

17. A tradition which goes back as far as the Septuagint identifies Jeremiah as the author of Lamentations, but modern critical scholarship is “practically unanimous” in rejecting this view. See ABD IV, 138.

18. Cf. Exod. 21:23–25, Lev. 24:19–20, Deut. 19:21.

19. ALM note a reminiscence here of a line from Terence’s Phormio, which might be translated: “It’s our fault if it profits the evil to be evil because we are too eager to be called good and kind” (766).

20. See ii, 24–52.

21. See the discussion of chronological issues which begins in ix, 8.

22. Reminiscent of Hobbes, Leviathan xxxiii, 20, which raises a concern about the possibility of falsification of the text of the New Testament by the ecclesiastics who had control of the texts, but dismisses it (ironically, I think), on the ground that if they had been inclined to falsify the texts, they would have made them more favorable to their power.

23. **[ADN. VII] That is, for those of us who are not accustomed to this language and who are not familiar with its ways of speaking.

24. See ii, 13–52.

25. Bennett suggests, plausibly, that the intention may be to accommodate the traditional view that the ultimate author of Scripture was God, and that the human “writers” were no more than scribes. Cf. Maimonides’ eighth fundamental principle of the Jewish religion: “We are to believe that the whole Torah was given us through Moses our Teacher entirely from God. . . . We do not know exactly how it reached us, but only that it came to us through Moses, who acted like a secretary taking dictation.” Maimonides Reader, 420. See also below, vii, 60.

26. See Ariosto, Orlando furioso Canto X, 66ff. But as the commentators note, the story is that of Ruggiero, not Orlando.

27. See Ovid, Metamorphoses IV, 614ff.

28. The stories about Samson are in Judg. 15:15 and 16:30. The one about Elijah is in 2 Kings 2:11.

29. Appuhn took the first author referred to here to be Ariosto, and accordingly expressed surprise that Ovid should be taken to be a political writer. Droetto/Giancotti suggest that we should count Ovid (rather than Ariosto) as the first writer Spinoza is referring to, the author of Judges as the second, and the author of Kings as the third.

30. The opinions discussed here—that Matthew originally wrote his gospel in Hebrew and that the Letter to the Hebrews was also written originally in Hebrew—go back at least to Eusebius. See his Church History III, xxiv, 6; III, xxxix, 16; and VI, xiv, 2–3. But it seems that they no longer represent the consensus of biblical scholars. See Brown 1997, 208–12, 683–704. Eusebius and his sources are probably using the term “Hebrew” to refer to what we would now call Aramaic, the language most commonly spoken by Palestinian Jews in the first century. On this see Meyer 1896.

31. The Hebrew of the Book of Job is exceptionally difficult, with more unique or rare words than any other biblical book, words whose meaning we are often obliged to conjecture on the basis of what we know about other related languages. It also has many syntactic peculiarities. But apparently few modern scholars would explain these difficulties the way Ibn Ezra did. See Anchor Job, xlvii–l.

32. **[ADN. VIII] By things one can perceive I understand not only those legitimately demonstrated, but also those we’re accustomed to embrace with moral certainty and hear without wonder, even if they can’t be demonstrated in any way. Everyone grasps Euclid’s propositions before they’re demonstrated. Thus I also call perceptible and clear those stories of things, both future and past, which don’t surpass human belief, as well as laws, institutions and customs (even if they can’t be demonstrated mathematically). Those obscure symbols and stories which seem to surpass all belief, I call impossible to perceive. Still, many of these can be investigated according to our method, so that we can perceive the author’s thought.

33. The proverb “A word to the wise is sufficient” occurs both in Terence (Phormio III, 541) and Plautus (Persa V, 729) (ALM).

34. Here Spinoza surely has in mind the Calvinist view that our knowledge of God through Scripture depends on the internal testimony of the Holy Spirit. Cf. Calvin, Institutes I, vi, 1–3; I, vii, 1, 2, 4, 5; and Parker 1995b, 21–27. Calvin, however, is more concerned with issues about the authority of Scripture, the establishment of the canon, and the uncorrupted transmission of its text than he is with the interpretation of particular passages.

35. Cf. Calvin, Institutes III, i, 1; xxiv, 1; IV, xiv, 8.

36. Perhaps Spinoza’s translation of Maimonides is tendentious here. The Pines translation at this point reads: “Consequently, in this case the texts ought not to be rejected and figuratively interpreted.”

37. Above, vii, 9–10.

[III/117] CHAPTER VIII

[25] In which it is shown that the Pentateuch, and the books of Joshua, Judges, Ruth, Samuel, and Kings are not autographs.

THEN WE ASK: WERE THERE SEVERAL WRITERS OF ALL OF THESE BOOKS, OR ONLY ONE? AND WHO WAS HE?

[1] In the preceding Chapter we treated the foundations and principles of our knowledge of the Scriptures, and showed that they are just a [30] genuine history of the Scriptures. Though such a history is very necessary, the Ancients still neglected it. Or if they wrote any of it (or handed it down [in an oral tradition]), that has perished by the assault of time. So a large part of the foundations and principles of this knowledge has [III/118] fallen into oblivion.

[2] This loss is one we might still have endured, if those who subsequently transmitted the texts had stayed within the proper limits, and in good faith transmitted to their successors the few things they had received or found, without concocting new things out of their own brains. The result has been that the history of Scripture has been [5] left, not only incomplete, but also quite faulty. The foundations of the knowledge of the Scriptures are not just too slight to have allowed a whole [history of Scripture] to be built on them; they are defective.

[3] My aim is to correct these faults and to remove the common prejudices of Theology. But I fear my attempt may come too late. [10] Things have already nearly reached the point where men do not allow themselves to be corrected about this, but stubbornly defend what they have embraced under the guise of religion. Nor does any place seem to be left for reason, except among a very few (few if compared with the rest), so widely have these prejudices taken possession of men’s minds. [15] Nevertheless, I shall try. I shall not give up putting the matter to the test, for there is no reason to despair completely.

[4] To show these things in an orderly way, I’ll begin with the prejudices concerning the true Writers of the Sacred Books. First, concerning the writer of the Pentateuch. Almost everyone has believed him to be Moses.¹ Indeed, the Pharisees maintained this so stubbornly that they considered anyone [20] who seemed to think otherwise a heretic. That’s why Ibn Ezra, a Man with an independent mind and no slight learning, who was the first of all those I’ve read to take note of this prejudice, didn’t dare to explain his thought openly, but only disclosed the problem in rather obscure terms.² I won’t be afraid to make them clearer here, and to show the thing itself openly.

[25] [5] Here are Ibn Ezra’s words, as they are found in his commentary on Deuteronomy:

בעבר הירדן וגו ואם תבין סוד השנים עשר גם ויכתוב משה והכנעני אז בארץ בהר יהוה יראה גם הנה ערשו ערש ברזל תכיר האמת

Beyond the Jordan etc. . . . provided you understand the mystery of the [30] twelve . . . and Moses also wrote the law . . . and the Canaanite was then in the land . . . it will be revealed on the mountain of God . . . then also behold, his bed is a bed of iron . . . then you will know the truth.³

[6] With these few words he discloses, and at the same time shows, that it was not Moses who wrote the Pentateuch, but someone else, who lived long afterward, and finally that the book Moses wrote was another one. To show these things, I say, he notes

[III/119] first, that the preface to Deuteronomy⁴ could not have been written by Moses, who never crossed the Jordan.

In addition, he notes [7]

second, that the whole book of Moses was written down very clearly within the expanse of one altar (see Deuteronomy 27[:1–8] and Joshua 8:31 etc.), which, according to the account of the Rabbis,⁵ consisted of [5] only twelve stones. From this it follows that the book of Moses was much smaller in bulk than the Pentateuch.⁶

This, I think, is what the author wanted to signify by the mystery of the twelve.

(Possibly he meant the twelve curses found in Deuteronomy 27[:11–26]. Perhaps he believed they hadn’t been written down in the book of [10] the law because Moses commands the Levites, in addition to writing down the law, to read those curses aloud, so that they might bind the people by an oath to observing the laws which had been written down. Or perhaps he meant to indicate the last chapter of Deuteronomy, concerning the death of Moses, a chapter which consists of twelve verses. But there is no need to examine these things more carefully here, or [15] those which others may conjecture in addition.)

[8] Next he notes

third, that in Deuteronomy 31:9 it is said that ויכתוב משה את התורה Moses wrote the law. . . . But these can’t be the words of Moses; they must be those of another Writer, relating the deeds and writings of Moses.

[9] In addition, he notes

fourth, the passage in Genesis 12:6, where—relating that Abraham was passing through the land of the Canaanites—the Historian adds that the [20] Canaanite was then in that land, by which he clearly separates the time of the events described from the time when he wrote these words. So these words must have been written after the death of Moses, when the Canaanites had already been driven out and no longer occupied those regions.

In commenting on this passage Ibn Ezra also signifies the same thing with these words

[25] והכנעני אז בארץ יתכן שארץ כנען תפשה מיד אחר ואם איננו כן יש לו סוד והמשכיל ידום

And the Canaanite was then in that land. It seems that Canaan (the grandson of Noah) seized the land of the Canaanite, which was occupied by someone else. If this is not true, there is some mystery in this matter. Let him who understands this be silent.

That is, if Canaan invaded those regions, then the meaning will be [30] that the Canaanite was already then in that land, excluding the time past, when it was inhabited by another nation. But if Canaan was the first to cultivate those regions (as follows from Genesis 10), then the Text sets apart the present time, i.e., that of the Writer; and so not the time of Moses, in whose time [the Canaanites] still occupied those regions. This is the mystery he says should be kept quiet.

[III/120] [10] He notes

fifth, that in Genesis 22:14 mount Moriah is called⁷** the mountain of God, a name it didn’t have until after it was dedicated to the building of the temple. But this choice of the mountain had not yet been made in the time of Moses. For Moses doesn’t indicate that any place has been [5] chosen by God; on the contrary, he predicts that some day God will choose a place, on which the name of God will be bestowed.

[11] Finally, he notes

sixth, that in Deuteronomy 3 these words are inserted into the story of Og, King of Bashan: Only Og, King of Bashan, remained of the rest of the giants;⁸* behold, his bed was a bed of iron, certainly this (bed), which is in Rabbah, of the children of Ammon, nine cubits long, etc. [Deuteronomy 3:11]

[10] This insertion indicates very clearly that the Writer of these books lived long after Moses.⁹ For only someone relating events which happened long ago would speak this way, mentioning the remains of the past to induce belief. Doubtless this bed was discovered first in the time of David, who subdued this city (as 2 Samuel 12:30 relates).

[15] [12] Not only here, but also a bit below, this same historian inserts in the words of Moses:

Fair, the son of Manasseh, took the whole territory of Argob, as far as the border of the Geshurites and the Maacathites, and he called those places by his own name, Bashan, villages of Jair, unto this day. [Deuteronomy 3:14]

These words, I say, the Historian added to explain the words of [20] Moses which he had just reported,

and the rest of Gilead and all of Bashan, the kingdom of Og, I gave to the half-tribe of Manasseh, all the territory of Argob, under the whole of Bashan, which is called the land of the Giants.

[13] Doubtless the Hebrews in this Writer’s time knew which were the villages of Jair of the tribe of Judah, but did not know them under [25] the name of the territory of Argob, nor of the land of the Giants. So he was forced to explain which places, long ago, used to be called by these names, and at the same time to give a reason why in his time they were identified by the name of Jair, who was of the tribe of Judah, not that of Manasseh (see 1 Chronicles 2:21–22).

[14] With this we’ve explained Ibn Ezra’s opinion, and also the [30] passages in the Pentateuch he cites to confirm it. But he didn’t note all the passages, or even the main ones. For there are many others worth noting in these books, some more important than the ones he mentioned.

[III/121] [15] First, the Writer of these books not only speaks of Moses in the third person, he also testifies to many things about him, such as:

God spoke with Moses [e.g., Numbers 1:1, 2:1, etc.];

God spoke with Moses face to face [Exodus 33:11, cf. Numbers 12:8];

Moses was the most humble of all men (Numbers 12:3);¹⁰

Moses was seized with anger against the leaders of the army (Numbers 31:14);

[5] Moses, the man of God (Deuteronomy 33:1);

Moses, the servant of God, died [Deuteronomy 34:5];¹¹

Never was there a Prophet in Israel like Moses etc. [Deuteronomy 34:10].

[16] By contrast, when Deuteronomy records the Law Moses explained to the people, the Law he had written, Moses speaks and relates his deeds in the first person, thus: God spoke to me (Deuteronomy [10] 2:1, 17, etc.), I prayed to God etc. [Deuteronomy 9:26]. Then later, at the end of the book [32:44–34:12], after he has reported Moses’s words, the historian again speaks in the third person, when he narrates how Moses gave the people, in writing, the law he had explained, how he warned them for the last time, and finally, how he ended his life. All [15] these things—the manner of speaking, the testimonies, and the very continuity of the whole history—clearly indicate that these books were not composed by Moses himself, but by someone else.

[17] Second, note that not only does this history relate how Moses died, was buried, and caused the Hebrews to mourn for thirty days, [20] but when it compares him to the Prophets who lived afterward, it says that he excelled them all. Never, [the Writer] says, was there a Prophet in Israel like Moses, whom God knew face to face. Obviously Moses couldn’t give this testimony about himself. Neither could someone who came immediately after him. Only someone who lived many generations later would speak of the past time as this Historian does: Never was there a [25] Prophet etc., and (of the tomb), no one knows to this day [where Moses is buried—Deuteronomy 34:6].¹²

[18] Third, note that certain places are indicated not by the names they had while Moses was alive, but by other names they came to have [30] much later. For example, Abraham pursued the enemy as far as Dan (see Genesis 14:14), a name that city did not have until long after the death of Joshua (see Judges 18:29).

[19] Fourth, sometimes the Histories too are extended beyond the time of Moses’ life. For Exodus 16:34 relates that the children of Israel ate Manna for forty years, until they came to an inhabited land, [III/122] the border of the land of Canaan, i.e., until the time spoken of in Joshua 5:12. Another example: Genesis 36:31 says These are the kings who reigned in Edom before any king reigned over the children of Israel. No doubt the historian is speaking there of the kings the Edomites had [5] before David conquered them¹³** and established governors in Edom itself. (See 2 Samuel 8:14.)¹⁴

[20] From all of this, then, it’s clearer than the noon light that the Pentateuch was not written by Moses, but by someone who lived many generations after Moses. But please, let’s attend also to the books Moses [10] did write, which are mentioned in the Pentateuch. From these references it will be evident that they were different from the Pentateuch.

[21] First, then, it’s evident from Exodus 17:14 that by God’s command Moses wrote an account of the war against Amalek. That chapter doesn’t establish what book he wrote this in, but Numbers 21:14 mentions a book called of the wars of God. No doubt this book related the [15] war against Amalek—and also all the encampments which the author of the Pentateuch testifies that Moses described (Numbers 33:2).

[22] Moreover, Exodus 24:4–7 establishes the existence of another book, called ספר הברית book of the covenant,¹⁵* which he read before [20] the Israelites when they first entered into a covenant with God. But this book (or this letter) contained only a few things, viz. the laws or commands of God related from Exodus 20:22 through 23:33. Anyone who has read that chapter impartially and with sound judgment will acknowledge this. [23] For it’s related there that as soon as Moses [25] understood the people’s intention to enter into a covenant with God, he immediately wrote down God’s pronouncements and laws. Then in the morning light, after he had performed certain ceremonies, he read out to the whole assembly the conditions of entering into the covenant. Once these conditions had been read out, and without doubt grasped by all the ordinary people, they bound themselves with full consent. So [30] both the shortness of the time it took to write it down, and the nature of the covenant the people were making, show that this book contained nothing beyond the few things I have just mentioned.

[24] Finally, it’s evident that in the fortieth year after the departure from Egypt Moses explained all the laws he had promulgated (see Deuteronomy 1:5), and bound the people to them again (see Deuteronomy [III/123] 29:14), and finally wrote a book which contained the laws he had explained, and this new covenant (see Deuteronomy 31:9). Afterward Joshua added to this book, called the book of the law of God, an account of the covenant by which the people bound itself once again, [5] in his time. This was the third covenant it entered into with God (see Joshua 24:25–26).

[25] But since we have no book which contains this covenant of Moses together with the covenant of Joshua, we must concede that this book has perished—unless we want to be as crazy as the Chaldean Paraphrast Jonathan,¹⁶ and twist the words of Scripture to our liking. For in the [10] face of this difficulty, he preferred to corrupt Scripture rather than confess his own ignorance. [26] These words from the book of Joshua

¹⁷ויכתב יהושע את הדברים האלה בספר תורת האלהים and Joshua wrote these words in the book of the Law of God (Joshua 24:26)

he translates into Chaldean as follows

וכתב יהושוע ית פתגמיא האילן ואצנעינון בספר אוריתא דיהוה and Joshua wrote these [15] words and kept them with the book of the Law of God.

[27] What can you do with people who see nothing but what they want to? What, I ask, is this, but to deny Scripture and to forge a new Scripture out of one’s own brain?

We conclude, therefore, that the book of the law of God which Moses wrote was not the Pentateuch, but an altogether different book, which the author of the Pentateuch inserted into his own work in an [20] orderly way. What we’ve just said shows this with utmost clarity. So does what is now to be said.

[28] When it’s related, in the passage of Deuteronomy just mentioned [31:9], that Moses wrote the book of the law, the historian adds that Moses handed it over to the priests, and that he commanded them to read it out to the whole people at a fixed time [every seventh year]. That [25] shows that this book was much shorter than the Pentateuch, since it could be read out in this way in one assembly, so that everyone would understand it. [29] We must also not fail to mention here that, of all the books Moses wrote, he commanded them to scrupulously preserve and keep this one of the second covenant and the Song (which he also [30] wrote afterward, so that the whole people would learn it thoroughly).¹⁸ For by the first covenant he had bound only those who were present, but by the second he bound everyone, even their posterity (see Deuteronomy 29:14–15). So he commanded the book of this second covenant to be preserved scrupulously by future generations—along (as we have said) with the Song, which concerns future generations most especially.

[30] Therefore, since it’s not established that Moses wrote other [III/124] books besides these, since he didn’t command posterity to scrupulously preserve any other book besides the little Book of the law and the Song, and finally, since many things occur in the Pentateuch which Moses could not have written, it follows that no one has any basis for saying that Moses was the author of the Pentateuch. To claim this is [5] completely contrary to reason.

[31] But here, perhaps, someone will ask whether Moses didn’t also write, besides [the laws of the second covenant and the Song], the laws when they were first revealed to him? In the course of forty years, didn’t he write down any of the laws he promulgated, apart from those few which I said [viii, 22] were contained in the book of the first covenant?

[10] [32] I reply: though I grant that it seems reasonable for Moses to have written down the laws at the very time and place in which he happened to communicate them, I nevertheless deny that we are entitled to affirm this [simply because it would have been reasonable for him to do so]. For we’ve shown above that we must maintain nothing about such matters except what is established from Scripture itself, or [15] which is elicited solely from its foundations by a legitimate principle of inference. We mustn’t maintain things of this kind simply because they seem to be consistent with reason.

[33] In any case, reason itself does not compel us to maintain this. For perhaps the assembly of elders communicated Moses’ edicts to the people in writing, and afterward the historian collected them and inserted them in an orderly way in the story of Moses’ life.

[20] This will be enough about the five books of Moses. [34] Now it’s time for us to examine the remaining books. By similar reasoning the book of Joshua is also shown not to be an autograph.¹⁹ For it is another person who testifies that Joshua was famous throughout the whole land (see Joshua 6:27), that he omitted none of the things Moses had commanded (see Joshua 8:35, 11:15), that he grew old and called [25] everyone into an assembly [Joshua 23:1–2], and that after some time he breathed his last [Joshua 24:29].

[35] Secondly, the book of Joshua too relates certain things which happened after Joshua’s death: e.g., that after his death the Israelites worshipped God as long as the elders who had known him lived [24:31]. And 16:10 relates that Ephraim and Manasseh did not drive out the [30] Canaanite who was living in Gezer, but, he adds, the Canaanite dwelled in the midst of Ephraim unto this day and was a slave. [36] The very same thing is related in the book of Judges (1[:29–30]). And the manner of speaking—unto this day—also shows that the Writer is relating things which happened long ago. Similar to this are [Joshua] 15:63, concerning the children of Judah, and the story of Caleb in 15:13. [37] Also the case [III/125] related in 22:10[–33], concerning the two and a half tribes who built an altar beyond the Jordan, seems to have happened after the death of Joshua. In that whole story no mention is made of Joshua, but the people alone considers whether to make war, sends out envoys, waits for their reply, and in the end approves it.

[5] [38] Finally, it follows clearly from Joshua 10:14 that this book was written many generations after Joshua. For [the author] testifies that there was no other day like that day, either before or afterward, on which God (thus) obeyed anyone etc. Therefore, if Joshua ever wrote any book, it was surely the one mentioned in this same story.²⁰

[10] [39] I believe no one of sound mind persuades himself that the book of Judges was written by the Judges themselves.²¹ For the summation of the whole story in 2[:6–23] shows clearly that the entire book was written by a single historian. Next, because the Writer of this book frequently reminds us that in those times there was no King in Israel, [15] it was doubtless written after kings had achieved rule.²²

[40] There’s no reason why we should linger long over the books of Samuel, since the story is extended far past his life.²³ Still, I should like to note just this: that this book too was written many generations after Samuel. For in 1 Samuel 9:9 the Historian reminds us in [20] a parenthesis that long ago in Israel, when someone went to consult God, he said “Come, let us go to the seer,” for long ago one who is today called a prophet was called a seer.

[41] Finally, the books of Kings themselves establish that they are gathered from the books of the acts of Solomon (see 1 Kings 11:41), the Chronicles of the Kings of Judah (see 1 Kings 14:29), and the [25] Chronicles of the Kings of Israel (see 1 Kings 14:19).²⁴

[42] We conclude, therefore, that all the books enumerated so far are apographs,²⁵ and relate the things contained in them as having happened long ago.

If now we attend to the connection and theme of all these books, we shall easily infer that they were all written by one and the same [25] Historian, who wanted to write about the past history of the Jews from their first origin up to the first destruction of the City.²⁶ [43] Just from the way these books are connected with one another, we can see that they contain only one narrative of one historian. As soon as he has stopped narrating the life of Moses, he passes to the history of Joshua:

and it came to pass, after Moses, the servant of God, died, that God said to Joshua etc. [Joshua 1:1]

[III/126] And when he has finished this story with the death of Joshua, he begins the history of the Judges with the same transition and linkage:

And it came to pass, after Joshua died, that the children of Israel inquired of God etc. [Judges 1:1]

[44] And to this book, as an appendix, he attaches the book of Ruth:

And it came to pass, in the days when the Judges judged, that there was a [5] famine in the land. [Ruth 1:1]

To this, in the same way, he also attaches the first book of Samuel. When this is finished, he proceeds by his customary transition to the second book. And to this, since the story of David was not yet finished, he joins the first book of Kings, and continuing to relate the history of David, in the end he attaches the second book to it with the same linkage.

[10] [45] Next, the continuity and order of the histories also indicates that there was only one Historian, who set himself a definite goal. For he begins by narrating the first origin of the Hebrew nation, and proceeds by telling in an orderly manner on what occasion and at what times Moses promulgated laws and predicted many things to [the people]. Then he relates how, in accordance with Moses’ predictions, they invaded the [15] promised land (see Deuteronomy 7), but how, once they had occupied it, they abandoned the laws (Deuteronomy 31:16), and how, as a result, many evils came upon them (Deuteronomy 31:17). Next, the Historian tells how they decided to elect Kings (Deuteronomy 17:14), and relates that things went prosperously for them when the kings heeded the laws, but unhappily when they did not (Deuteronomy 28:36, 68). Finally he [20] relates the downfall of the state, as Moses had predicted it.

[46] But as for things which contribute nothing to strengthening the authority of the law, either he passes over them in complete silence or else he refers the reader to other Historians. Therefore, all these books agree in having one purpose, viz. to teach the statements and edicts of Moses, and to demonstrate them through the outcomes of things.

[25] [47] These three things taken together—the simplicity of the theme of all these books, the way they are connected, and the fact that they were apographs, written many generations after the events related—lead us to infer that, as we have just said, they were all written by just one [30] Historian. [48] Who he was, I cannot show so clearly; but I suspect that he was Ezra.²⁷ The considerations which combine to prompt this conjecture are not trivial.

[First,] since the Historian (whom we now know to have been only one person) produces a history up to Jehoiachin’s release [2 Kings 25:27] and adds, as well, that [25:29–30] Jehoiachin dined at the King’s table his whole life (i.e., either Jehoiachin’s life or that of Nebuchadnezzar’s son—the meaning is quite doubtful), it follows that he was not anyone [III/127] before Ezra. [49] But except for Ezra Scripture doesn’t mention anyone who flourished then, who zealously tried to discover God’s law and honored it (see Ezra 7:10), and who was a Writer skilled in the Law [5] of Moses (see 7:6). So I cannot suspect anyone but Ezra of having written these books.²⁸

[50] Second, we see in this testimony concerning Ezra that he used zeal not only in trying to discover God’s law, but also in enhancing it. Moreover, Nehemiah 8:8 also says that they read the book of God’s law explained, and they used their intellect, and they understood the Scripture.²⁹ [10] [51] But since the book of Deuteronomy contains not only the book of the law of Moses (or the greatest part of it), but also many things inserted for a fuller explanation, I conjecture from this that the book of Deuteronomy is the book of God’s law which they then read—written, enhanced, and explained by Ezra.

[52] When we explained Ibn Ezra’s opinion, we gave two examples [15] illustrating that many things are inserted parenthetically in the book of Deuteronomy, to explain it more fully. But there are many other examples of this feature in that work. E.g., in Deuteronomy 2:12, and previously the Horites lived in Seir, but the sons of Esau drove them out and [20] destroyed them from their sight and dwelled in their place, as Israel did in the land of their inheritance, which God gave them. This explains 2:3–4, viz. that the sons of Esau, who received mount Seir as an inheritance, were not the first to occupy that land, but that they invaded it and dislodged and destroyed the Horites, who dwelt there previously, as the [25] Israelites did to the Canaanites after the death of Moses.

[53] Again, verses 6–9 in Deuteronomy 10 are inserted parenthetically in the words of Moses. For no one fails to see that verse 8, which begins at that time God set apart the tribe of Levi, must be related to verse 5, not to the death of Aaron, which Ezra seems to have inserted [30] here for no other reason than because, in this account of the calf the people had worshipped, Moses had said that he had prayed to God for Aaron (see Deuteronomy 9:20). Next, he explains that, at the time Moses is speaking of here, God chose the tribe of Levi for himself, so that he might show the reason for the choice, and why the Levites were not called to a share of the possession. This done, he goes on to follow the thread of the history in the words of Moses.

[III/128] [54] To these examples we should add the preface of the book [Deuteronomy 1:1–5] and all those passages which speak of Moses in the third person. Beyond these, he has added, or expressed in other words, many other things which we cannot now recognize as distinct—doubtless so that the men of his own time would grasp them more easily.

[5] [55] If we had the book of the law of Moses itself, I say, I don’t doubt that we would find a great discrepancy, both in the words and in the order of the precepts and the reasons for them. For when I compare just the Decalogue of this book with the Decalogue of Exodus (where its history is explicitly related), I see that it is inconsistent with the latter in all these respects:³⁰

[i] the fourth commandment [Deuteronomy 5:12–15, Exodus 20:8–11] is [10] not only stated in a different way, it is much longer;

[ii] the reason given for it differs entirely from the reason offered in Exodus; and finally,

[iii] the order in which the tenth precept is explained here [Deuteronomy 5:21] is also different from that in Exodus [20:17].

[56] I think Ezra did these things, both here and in other places, as I’ve said, because he was explaining the law of God to the men of his [15] time. That’s why he set out and explained this Book of God’s Law. And I think this book was the first of all those which I’ve said he wrote. I conjecture this because it contains the Laws of his Country, which the people most needed, and also because it’s not attached to the preceding book by any linkage, as all the others are, but begins with the detached [20] statement, These are the words of Moses, etc.

[57] But after he finished this, and after he had imparted a thorough knowledge of the law to the people, I believe he then applied his zeal to writing down a complete history of the Hebrew nation, from the origin of the world to the final destruction of the City. In this history he inserted the Book of Deuteronomy in its place. And perhaps he [25] called its first five books the books of Moses because it’s mainly his life which is contained in them, and he took the name from the more important part. [58] For the same reason he also called the sixth book by the name of Joshua, the seventh, Judges, the eighth, Ruth, the ninth and perhaps also the tenth, Samuel, and finally the eleventh and twelfth, Kings. But whether Ezra put the finishing touches on this work, and [30] brought it to completion in the way he wanted to—that’s a topic for the following Chapter.

1. The view that Moses was the author of the Pentateuch seems to be based on a misunderstanding of Deut. 31:9 (see Anchor Genesis, xix) and may be found in Philo (On the Life of Moses I, 4, and II, 11), Josephus (Against Apion I, 8), Augustine (Confessions XII, 17), and the Talmud (see Baba Bathra 14b–15a). The Talmud makes an exception for the last eight verses of Deuteronomy, which describe the death of Moses, and ascribes those verses to Joshua. Maimonides made it a fundamental principle of Judaism that the whole Pentateuch comes to us from God through Moses, “who acted like a secretary taking dictation” (Maimonides Reader, 420–21). As the text indicates, Spinoza was not the first to question this tradition. But he does so more openly than Ibn Ezra and more effectively than such more recent doubters as Hobbes and Isaac de la Peyrère. For discussion see Curley 1990b and 2014, and Malcolm 2002.

2. Whether Ibn Ezra really intended to suggest doubts about the Mosaic authorship of the Pentateuch (as Spinoza believed), or merely meant to suggest that there had been a few glosses or slight changes in the text by later editors, is still a matter of dispute. In their foreword to Ibn Ezra’s commentary on the Pentateuch, Strickman and Silver claim that Spinoza “totally misrepresented” Ibn Ezra’s views (V, xvii).

3. Cf. Ibn Ezra 1988, V, 3.

4. The reference is to Deut. 1:1–5, which begins: “These are the words which Moses spoke unto all Israel, beyond the Jordan, in the wilderness.”

5. The figure of twelve stones is given by Rashi (1960) in his commentary on Deut. 27:8, relying on a passage in the Talmud, Sota 35b.

6. In his commentary on Deut. 27:8, Ibn Ezra approved the view of Saadia Gaon, that the stones must have contained only the commandments, because they would not have been large enough to contain the entire five books of the Pentateuch. See Ibn Ezra 1988, V, 194.

7. **[ADN. IX] By the historian, that is, not by Abraham. For he says that the place which today is called on the mountain of God it will be revealed was called by Abraham God will provide.

8. *Note that the Hebrew word רפאים rephaim signifies condemned, and seems also to be a proper name in 1 Chron. 20. Therefore I think that here it signifies some family.

9. The Talmud had tried to deal with the fact that the last chapter of Deuteronomy describes the death of Moses by ascribing the last eight verses of that chapter to Joshua. The language to which Spinoza here calls attention not only excludes that hypothesis, but also, by putting the historian at a considerable distance from the events he is describing, raises doubts about his reliability.

10. Apparently this verse had long been recognized as a stumbling block for the theory that Moses wrote the entire Pentateuch himself, because that theory required the humblest of men to praise himself for his humility. Cf. HCSB at Num. 12:3, and Kugel 2007, 30–31.

11. Another traditional stumbling block for the theory of Mosaic authorship. The fact that the last chapter of Deuteronomy describes the death of Moses was presumably the reason why the Talmud assigned those verses to Joshua (Baba Bathra 14b–15a), and the reason why Luther ascribed the whole last chapter of Deuteronomy to either Joshua or Eleazar. See his Lectures on Deuteronomy in Works IX, 310.

12. As Hobbes pointed out in Leviathan xxxiii, 4, this language is difficult to reconcile with the hypothesis some had entertained, that Moses spoke of his burial place by prophecy.

13. **[ADN. X] From this time until the reign of Jehoram, when they detached themselves from him (2 Kings 8:20), Edom did not have kings, but governors established by the Jews took the place of a king. See 1 Kings 22:48. So the governor of Edom was called a king (2 Kings 3:9). There may be some dispute whether the last of the Edomite kings began to reign before Saul was made king, or whether in this chapter of Genesis Scripture meant only to tell of the kings who died unconquered. Those people who want to list Moses among the Hebrew kings are clearly trifling. The state of the Hebrews he established (by divine agency) was completely different from a monarchic one.

14. The first person to identify this problem for the theory of the Mosaic authorship of the Pentateuch—the fact that Gen. 36:31–39 lists kings who reigned in Edom long after the death of Moses—seems to have been an eleventh-century Jewish court physician in Spain, Isaac ibn Yashush. On this see Friedman 1989, 18–19, who notes the irony that Ibn Ezra (whose cryptic remarks may have prompted Spinoza’s doubts about the Mosaic authorship) sharply criticized Isaac for his theory that this chapter was composed in the reign of King Jehoshaphat, and said that Isaac’s book deserved to be burned. See Ibn Ezra 1988, I, 341, which makes the suggestion Spinoza dismisses in ADN. X, that Moses can be counted as a king of Israel. Spinoza will return to this passage in ix, 6.

15. *NB: In Hebrew ספר sepher more often signifies letter or scroll. [This explains the parenthetical remark in the next sentence of the text.]

16. Spinoza refers to a work now known as the Targum Pseudo-Jonathan, an Aramaic translation (or paraphrase) of the Pentateuch, traditionally (but it seems wrongly) ascribed to Jonathan ben Uzziel, a pupil of Hillel (who had in fact produced an Aramaic paraphrase of the prophets). The Buxtorf Bible, which Spinoza owned, reproduced these paraphrases, along with selections from the most prominent medieval commentaries. The Targums played an important role in medieval Jewish liturgy and biblical studies. For more, see ABD VI, 320–21.

17. So Spinoza’s text reads. For the final word the Masoertic text reads אלהים.

18. Earlier references to a song ascribed to Moses (at III/39, 90) clearly referred to the song in Exod. 15. But here Spinoza seems to have in mind the song in Deut. 32:1–43.

19. By denying that these books are autographs Spinoza means, not just that our oldest manuscripts are not actually written in the hand of the people to whom tradition assigned authorship, but that they are not even transcripts of any document substantially written by the authors to whom tradition assigned them. The same Talmudic tradition which made Moses the author of (most of) the Pentateuch assigned authorship of the book of Joshua to Joshua, and similarly for the other books Spinoza discusses in this chapter (Baba Bathra 14b–15a).

20. Josh. 10:13 says that the story of Joshua’s commanding the sun to stand still is written in the Book of Jashar, a book which has not survived in the Bible as it has come down to us.

21. Indeed, Talmudic tradition assigned authorship of Judges to Samuel (Baba Bathra 14b–15a).

22. At this point the title of this chapter would lead us to expect a discussion of the book of Ruth. But Spinoza does not discuss its authorship or date, though he will argue later (in §44) that its opening links it with Judges. In Christian Bibles Ruth normally does come immediately after Judges. In the Hebrew Bible it is grouped with the Writings, immediately after the Song of Songs.

23. Nevertheless, Baba Bathra 14b–15a does make Samuel the author of the books bearing his name. Samuel’s death is reported in 1 Sam. 25:1.

24. Baba Bathra 14b–15a makes Jeremiah the author of the books of Kings. Spinoza’s theory that the books of Kings derived from the lost works it mentions seems now to be generally accepted. Cf. HCSB 474 and ABD IV, 70–71.

25. That is, these books are not autographs in the sense defined in the note to viii, 34.

26. Spinoza refers here to the destruction of Jerusalem by the Babylonians in 586 B.C.E. In his theory that the primary historical books of the Hebrew Bible—beginning with Genesis and ending with 2 Kings—were in the end the work of one final editor, an historian working in the postexilic period, who wrote a history of his people to demonstrate that the calamities which had befallen them were the result of their disobedience to God’s law, Spinoza’s picture resembles that offered by David Noel Freedman in Freedman 1994. (Spinoza counts twelve books in this series when he sums up in viii, 57–58, because he counts Ruth as part of the series, and divides Samuel and Kings into two books each. Freedman counts nine books because he does not divide Samuel and Kings and omits Ruth.)

27. In Leviathan xxxiii, 19, Hobbes had reached a similar conclusion, on the basis of two passages in the apocryphal 2 Esdras. Hobbes’ argument does not rely on the premise that, because of their unity of theme, the historical books were the work of one author. Indeed, Hobbes does not limit his conclusion to the historical books. For a thorough discussion of the ancestry of the Ezra hypothesis, see Malcolm 2002. See also Curley 1994 and 2014.

28. Spinoza mistakenly thinks that Ezra was among the first wave of those who returned to Jerusalem at the end of the Babylonian captivity. See below, annotation at x, 1. For a summary of the debate over Ezra’s work and importance, see ABD II, 726–28, which concludes that there was an historical Ezra, who did some of the things later tradition ascribed to him, but about whom hagiographic legends accumulated.

Some do credit him with editing the Pentateuch in its present form. For argument to this effect, see Friedman 1989, ch. 13. Friedman would not assign the historical sequence from Joshua to 2 Kings to Ezra, arguing instead that the final version of those books is the work of Jeremiah (ch. 7).

29. The text (incorrectly) has Neh. 8:9. I take it that when Spinoza says that Ezra ‘enhanced’ [adornandam] God’s law, he means that he offered an interpretation of the law which made it more understandable.

30. Cf. above, i, 13.

[III/129] CHAPTER IX

Other questions concerning the same Books,
e.g., whether Ezra put them in final form,
and whether the marginal notes
found in the Hebrew manuscripts
were variant readings

[5] [1] Just from the passages we’ve cited to confirm our opinion about the true Writer of these books—passages which without our perspective would have to seem very obscure to anyone—it’s easy to infer how much the preceding investigation of this issue aids the perfect understanding of the books. But besides the Writer, there remain other things to be [10] noted in the books themselves, which the common superstition doesn’t permit the common people to recognize.

[2] The most important of these is that Ezra—whom I shall take to be the Writer of the books discussed, until someone establishes another writer with greater certainty—did not put the narratives contained in these books in final form, and did not do anything but collect the narratives [15] from different writers, sometimes just copying them, and that he left them to posterity without having examined or ordered them.¹[3] I can’t conjecture what causes prevented him from carrying out this work in every detail, unless perhaps it was an untimely death.

But though we’ve been deprived of the ancient Hebrew historians, [20] the few fragments we do have establish with utmost clarity [that Ezra did collect different histories in this way]. [4] For the story of Hezekiah (from 2 Kings 18:17) is copied from Isaiah’s account, as it was found written in the Chronicles of the Kings of Judah.² Indeed, in the book of Isaiah we read this whole story, which was contained in the [25] Chronicles of the Kings of Judah³ (see 2 Chronicles 32:32), related in the same words as here, with only a very few exceptions.⁴** From these exceptions the only conclusion we can draw is that various readings of Isaiah’s narrative were found—unless someone prefers to dream of mysteries in these things also.

[5] Again, the last chapter of this book [2 Kings] is also contained in [30] the last chapter of Jeremiah and in chapters 39 and 40 of that work.⁵ In addition, we find 2 Samuel 7 copied in 1 Chronicles 17.⁶ But we discover that the words in the different passages are so remarkably changed⁷** that we may easily recognize that these two chapters were [III/130] taken from two different copies of the story of Nathan.

[6] Finally, the Genealogy of the Kings of Edom, treated in Genesis 36:31[–39], is also described in the same words in 1 Chronicles 1[:43–51], though it is manifest, nevertheless, that the author of this book has taken the things he narrates from other Historians, but not [5] from the twelve books we’ve attributed to Ezra.⁸

[7] There is no doubt that if we had these Historians, this conclusion would be established directly. But because, as I’ve said, we have been deprived of them, the only thing remaining for us is to examine the histories [which have survived]: their order and connection, the variations [10] in their repetitions, and finally, the discrepancy in the computation of years. In this way we can judge of the others.

[8] Let us, then, carefully assess at least the principal narratives, taking first that of Judah and Tamar, which the Historian begins to relate in Genesis 38: And it happened at that time that Judah departed from his brothers [38:1]. This time must be related to another⁹** which he has just [15] spoken of. But it can’t be related to the time just discussed in Genesis.¹⁰ For we can’t count more than twenty-two years from the time Joseph was taken to Egypt to the time the Patriarch Jacob also went there with his whole family. [9] When Joseph was sold by his brothers, he was seventeen [20] [Gen. 37:2]; he was thirty when Pharaoh ordered him to be released from prison [41:46]. If we add to these [thirteen years] the seven years of fertility [41:47] and two years of famine [45:6], that makes twenty-two years.¹¹

[10] But no one can conceive that so many things could have happened in this length of time: viz. that Judah had three sons, one after another, [25] by the one wife he had then married; that the eldest of these, when his age permitted, married Tamar; that after the first son had died, the second took Tamar as his wife; that the second son also died; and that some time after all these things happened, Judah himself unknowingly had relations with his own daughter-in-law, Tamar, by whom he begot two more sons (though in one birth); and that one of these sons also [30] became a father—all within the time previously mentioned.

[11] Since not all these events can be related to the time in question in Genesis, they must be related to another time, treated just previously in another book. Ezra, then, has merely copied this story, and inserted it among the others, without having examined it.

[12] But it must be confessed that, not only this chapter, but the [III/131] whole story of Joseph and Jacob is so full of inconsistencies that it must have been culled from different historians and copied out.¹² For Genesis 47 relates that when Joseph first brought Jacob to greet Pharaoh, Jacob was 130 years old. If we subtract from that the twenty-two years he [5] spent in grief because of Joseph’s absence, as well as the seventeen years of Joseph’s age when he was sold, and finally the seven years he served because of Rachel, it will be found that he was very, very old—eighty-four in fact—when he married Leah. On the other hand, Dinah was [10] hardly seven,¹³** when Shechem raped her, and Simeon and Levi were hardly twelve and eleven when they pillaged that whole city and put all its citizens to the sword.¹⁴

[13] There’s no need for me to review everything in the Pentateuch here. If you just attend to this—that all the precepts and stories in these five books are related indiscriminately, without order, with no [15] account taken of the times, and that one and the same story is often repeated, sometimes in a different way¹⁵—you will easily see that all these things have been collected and piled up indiscriminately, so that afterward they might be more easily examined and reduced to order.

[14] This is true not only of the narratives in the Pentateuch, but [20] also of the other narratives in the remaining seven books, down to the destruction of the city. They were collected in the same way. Who does not see that in Judges 2, from v. 6, a new Historian is brought in (who had also written of the things Joshua did), and that his words are simply copied out?¹⁶ For after our Historian related (in Joshua 24) that Joshua [25] died and was buried, and after he promised at the beginning of this book [Judges] to relate what happened after Joshua’s death, how, if he wanted to follow the thread of his story, could he have connected what he begins to relate here, about Joshua, with what he has just said?¹⁷**

[15] Similarly, chapters 17, 18, etc., of 1 Samuel are selected from another Historian, who thought there was another reason why David [30] began to attend Saul’s court, a reason very different from the one related in 1 Samuel 16. He didn’t think David went to Saul because Saul had called him, on the advice of his servants (as related in 16[:17–19]), but thought that, his father having sent him by chance to his brothers in Saul’s camp, he became known to Saul only on the occasion of the victory he had against the Philistine, Goliath. Only then was he kept in [III/132] the court [17:55–18:2]. I suspect the same thing of 1 Samuel 26 —that the historian seems to relate there the same story treated in ch. 24, according to the opinion of someone else.¹⁸

[16] But I pass over all this, and proceed to examine the chronology. [5] In 1 Kings 6[:1] it is said that Solomon built the temple 480 years after the departure from Egypt.¹⁹ But from the individual narratives we infer a much greater number. [17] For

Moses governed the people in the wilderness for . . .

40 years²⁰

In the opinion of Josephus and others, we attribute to Joshua [10] (who lived 110 years) a reign of not more than . . .

26 years²¹

Cushan-rishathaim had the people in subjection for . . .

8 years²²

Othniel, the son of Kenaz, judged²³** for . . .

40 years²⁴

Eglon, king of Moab, ruled the people for . . .

18 years²⁵

Ehud and Shamgar were judges for . . .

80 years²⁶

[15] Jabin, king of Canaan, had the people in subjection . . .

20 years²⁷

Afterward the people had peace for . . .

40 years²⁸

Then the people were in subjection to the Midianites for . . .

7 years²⁹

In the time of Gideon the people were free for . . .

40 years³⁰

They were under the rule of Abimelech for . . .

3 years³¹

[20] Tola, the son of Puah, judged for . . .

23 years³²

Jair judged for . . .

22 years³³

The people were in subjection to the Philistines and the Ammonites for . . .

18 years³⁴

Jephthah judged for . . .

6 years³⁵

Ibzan of Bethlehem judged for . . .

7 years³⁶

[25] Elon the Zebulunite judged for . . .

10 years³⁷

Abdon the Pirathonite judged for . . .

8 years³⁸

The people were in subjection to the Philistines for . . .

40 years³⁹

Samson judged⁴⁰** for . . .

20 years⁴¹

Eli judged for . . .

40 years⁴²

[30] Before Samuel freed them, the people were again in subjection to the Philistines for . . .

20 years⁴³

David reigned . . .

40 years⁴⁴

Before Solomon built the temple, he reigned for . . .

4 years⁴⁵

[III/133] The sum of all these years is 580.⁴⁶

[18] To these years we must add, next, those of the period in which, after the death of Joshua, the Hebrew Republic flourished (before Cushan-rishathaim subjugated it [Judges 3:8]). I believe this period lasted many years. For I cannot persuade myself that immediately [5] after the death of Joshua everyone who had seen his wonders perished at once, and that the next generation straightaway abandoned the laws and fell from the pinnacle of virtue to the depths of profligacy and negligence. Nor can I believe that no sooner had this happened than Cushan-rishathaim subjugated them. [19] But since each of these [10] developments requires almost a generation, there is no doubt that in Judges 2:7, 9 and 10, Scripture covers the stories of many years, which it has passed over in silence.⁴⁷

We must also add [to the figure of 580] the years during which Samuel was a Judge, which are not given in Scripture, [20] and the years of the reign of Saul, which I omitted in the above calculation, because [15] what Scripture says about him does not adequately establish how long he reigned. It is said, indeed, in 1 Samuel 13:1, that Saul reigned for two years, but that text is mutilated and from the narrative itself we infer a greater number of years. [21] That the text is mutilated, no one who has even the slightest acquaintance with the Hebrew language can [20] doubt. For it begins thus: בן שנה שאול במלכו ושתי שנים מלך על ישראל, Saul was a year old when he reigned, and he reigned over Israel for two years. Who, I ask, does not see that the text omits Saul’s age when he began to reign?⁴⁸ [22] But I believe no one doubts that the account of his reign implies that it lasted longer than two years. For 1 Samuel 27:7 [25] mentions that David stayed among the Philistines, to whom he fled on account of Saul, for a year and four months. So from this calculation the remaining events must have happened in eight months. I suppose no one believes this. Josephus, at least, at the end of book six of his Antiquities, corrects the text in the following way: Saul, therefore, reigned [30] for eighteen years while Samuel was alive, and for two more after his death.⁴⁹

[23] Indeed, this whole narrative in chapter 13 does not agree at all with the preceding chapters. At the end of chapter 7 it is related that the Philistines were so subdued by the Hebrews that they did not dare to cross the borders of Israel during the life of Samuel.⁵⁰ But here [in ch. 13, it is related] that (while Samuel was still alive) the Philistines invaded the Hebrews and reduced them to such wretchedness and poverty [III/134] that they were left without arms to defend themselves, or even the means of making arms. [24] It would surely cost me sweat enough if I were to try to reconcile all the accounts contained in this first book of Samuel so that they all looked like they were written down and ordered [5] by one Historian. But, to return to the point I was making, we must add the years of Saul’s reign to the above calculation.

[25] Finally, I have also not counted the years of anarchy of the Hebrews,⁵¹ because Scripture does not establish what that number was. That is to say, I do not find it established what that period was in which the events narrated in Judges 17–21 happened.

[10] [26] These considerations show very clearly that we cannot establish a correct calculation of the years [between the exodus and the building of the temple] from the narratives themselves and that the narratives do not agree in one and the same calculation, but presuppose quite different ones. So we must confess that these narratives were gathered [15] from different writers, and still haven’t been put in order or examined.

[27] There seems to have been no less a discrepancy concerning the calculation of years in the books of the Chronicles of the Kings of Judah and the books of the Chronicles of the Kings of Israel.⁵² For it was said in the Chronicles of the Kings of Israel that Jehoram, the son of Ahab, began to reign in the second year of the reign of Jehoram, the son of Jehoshaphat (see 2 Kings 1:17). But in the Chronicles of [20] the Kings of Judah, it was held that Jehoram the son of Jehoshaphat began to reign in the fifth year of the reign of Jehoram, the son of Ahab (see 2 Kings 8:16).

[28] If anyone wants to compare the narratives of the book of Chronicles with those of the books of Kings, he will find numerous similar discrepancies, which I don’t need to recount here.⁵³ Much less do I need to discuss the devices authors use to try to reconcile these [25] accounts. For the Rabbis are completely crazy. The commentators I have read indulge in idle fancies and hypotheses, and in the end, completely corrupt the language itself. [29] For example, when it is said in 2 Chronicles [22:2] that Ahaziah was forty-two years old when he reigned, some indulge in the hypothesis that these years are calculated from the reign of Omri, not from the birth of Ahaziah.⁵⁴ If they could [30] show that this was what the author of the books of Chronicles meant, I wouldn’t hesitate to say that he didn’t know how to express himself. And they invent many other things of this kind. If these things were true, I would say, without qualification, that the ancient Hebrews were completely ignorant both of their own language and of how to tell a story in an orderly way. I wouldn’t recognize any principle or standard [III/135] for interpreting Scripture. Instead, we could invent anything we like.

[30] If anyone thinks I’m speaking too generally here, and without adequate foundation, I ask him to show us some definite order in these accounts, which Historians could imitate without fault in their Chronicles. And while he’s interpreting these accounts and trying to [5] reconcile them, let him respect the expressions and ways of speaking, and of organizing and connecting statements, so strictly, and let him explain them in such a way, that we too could imitate them in our writing, according to his explanation.⁵⁵** If he does this, I’ll immediately surrender to him, and he’ll be a great oracle for me.⁵⁶ [31] For [10] I confess that although I’ve long sought such an explanation, I’ve still never been able to find anything like it. I add that I write nothing here which I haven’t thought about long and hard. Although I was instructed from childhood in the common opinions concerning Scripture, in the end I couldn’t help but admit these things.⁵⁷ But there’s no reason to detain the reader long regarding these matters, or to challenge him to [15] such a hopeless task. It was only necessary to propose this to explain my position more clearly. [32] Now I proceed to the other things I’ve undertaken to note concerning the fate of these books.

What needs to be noted, in addition to the things we’ve just shown, is that Posterity hasn’t preserved these books with such diligence that [20] no errors have crept in. For the early Scribes noticed many doubtful readings, as well as some (though not all) of the mutilated passages. I’m not arguing now that these errors are such as to make difficulties for the reader. I believe they are of little importance, at least for those who read the Scriptures with a more independent judgment. This I can certainly affirm: that I haven’t noticed, concerning moral teachings, [25] any error, or any alternative reading, which could make them obscure or doubtful.

[33] But most people don’t admit that any defect at all has cropped up even in the other parts of Scripture. Instead they maintain that by a certain particular providence God has kept the whole Bible uncorrupted.⁵⁸ They say the variant readings are signs of the most profound [30] mysteries, and they allege the same about the asterisks which occur in the middle of a paragraph twenty-eight times.⁵⁹ Indeed, they claim that great secrets are contained in the very markings of the letters.⁶⁰

[34] I don’t know whether they’ve said these things out of foolishness and credulous devotion, or out of arrogance and malice, so that they alone would be believed to possess God’s secrets. I do know this: I’ve read nothing in their writings which had the air of a secret, but only childish thoughts. I’ve also read, and for that matter, known personally, [III/136] certain Kabbalistic triflers. I’ve never been able to be sufficiently amazed by their madness.⁶¹

[35] But I believe no one doubts that errors have crept in—not anyone of sound judgment, anyway, who has read that text about Saul (the one we appealed to above [in §20], 1 Samuel 13:1), and also 2 Samuel [5] 6:2, and David arose and went, with all the people who were with him from Judah, that they might carry off the ark of God from there. Here also no one can fail to see that the place they went to has been omitted—that is, Kirjath-jearim,⁶²** from which they carried off the ark.⁶³

[36] We also can’t deny that 2 Samuel 13:37 is confused and mutilated: [10] and Absalom fled and went to Talmai, the son of Ammihud, king of Geshur, and he mourned his son every day, and Absalom fled and went to Geshur and stayed there three years.⁶⁴** I know that previously I have noted other things of this kind, but at the moment I cannot recall them.

[37] The marginal notes⁶⁵ found throughout the Hebrew Manuscripts [15] were doubtful readings. If you attend to the fact that most of them have arisen from the great similarity some Hebrew letters have to others, you will not be able to doubt this. כ kaf is very similar to ב bet, י jod to ו vau, ד dalet to ר res, and so on. So, in 2 Samuel 5:24, where it is written, בשמעך, and in that (time) in which you hear, in the margin [20] there is כשמעך, when you hear, and in Judges 21:22, where it is written, והיה כי יבואו אבותם או אחיהם לרוב, and when their fathers or brothers come to us in a multitude (i.e., often), in the margin there is לריב, to dispute.

[38] Similarly, a great many variant readings have arisen from the use of the letters they call Quiescent, letters whose pronunciation is very often inaudible, so that one is indiscriminately taken for the other. [25] E.g., in Leviticus 25:30 it is written, וקם הבית אשר בעיר אשר לא חומה, and the house which is in a city which has no wall will be made secure, but in the margin there is אשר לו חומה, which has a wall.

[39] These things are clear enough in themselves, but [I mention them because] I want to reply to the arguments of certain Pharisees, who try to persuade us that the Writers of the Sacred books themselves [30] attached the marginal notes, or gave indications for them, in order to signify some mystery. The first of these arguments, which doesn’t much move me, they take from the practice of reading the Scriptures. They ask: if these notes were attached because of variant readings, which later generations could not decide between, why has the practice prevailed of always retaining the meaning of the marginal note?⁶⁶ Why, they ask, [III/137] did [the later generations] note the meaning they wanted to retain in the margin? They ought to have written the books themselves as they wanted them to be read, instead of relegating to the margin the meaning and reading they most approved.

[40] Their second argument, drawn from the nature of the thing [5] itself, seems to have an air of plausibility. Suppose the errors are not intentional, but have crept into the Manuscripts by chance. What happens by chance, happens now one way, now another. But in the Pentateuch, with only one exception, the word נערה, girl, is always written defectively, contrary to the rule of grammar, without the letter ה, he, whereas in the margin it is written correctly, according to the universal [10] rule of grammar.⁶⁷ Has this, too, happened because someone’s hand erred in copying? By what fate could it have happened that the pen always acted too quickly whenever this word occurred? Again, [the scribes of the later generations] could easily, without any misgivings, have made good this defect, and corrected it according to the rules of grammar. [41] Therefore, since these readings did not happen by chance, and [15] they did not correct defects so clear, [the Pharisees] conclude from this that the first Writers made these [errors] according to a definite plan, to signify something by them.

We can easily reply to these arguments. I see little merit in [the Pharisees’] arguing from the practice which has prevailed among [the later generations]. [42] I don’t know what superstition could have persuaded [20] them to do. Perhaps they did these things because they regarded each reading as equally good or acceptable, and therefore, in order that neither of them should be neglected, wanted one to be written and the other to be read. In so great a matter, they were afraid to determine their judgment, lest in their uncertainty they choose the false [reading] in place of the true one. So they did not want to prefer either one to the other, as they would have done, without qualification, if they had commanded only one reading to be both written and read, especially [25] since the marginal notes are not written in the Sacred books.⁶⁸ [43] Or perhaps it happened because, although certain things were copied correctly, they still wanted them to be read differently, as they had noted them in the margin. Therefore, they established the general practice of reading the Bible according to the marginal notes.

[44] But now I shall say what cause moved the Scribes to note certain [30] things explicitly in the margin as to be read. Not all the marginal notes are doubtful readings, but [the Scribes] also noted readings which were alien to their usage, viz. obsolete words and those which the customs of their time did not permit to be read in a public assembly. [45] For the ancient Writers, without evil intent, used to indicate things by their proper names, without any courtly euphemisms. But after wicked conduct [III/138] and extravagant living became prevalent, things which the ancients said without obscenity began to be considered obscene. There was no need to change Scripture itself for this reason. Nevertheless, out of consideration for the weakness of ordinary people, they introduced the custom of using more respectable terms for intercourse and excrement when the works were read in public; and they indicated these terms [5] in the marginal notes.

[46] Finally, whatever the reason why it became customary to read and interpret the Scriptures according to the marginal readings, at least it was not that the true interpretation must be found only there. For not only do the Rabbis in the Talmud often depart from the Masoretes [10] and have other readings which they approve, as I shall soon show, other things are found in the margin which seem less sanctioned by linguistic usage. [47] E.g., in 2 Samuel 14:22 is written אשר עשה המלך את דבר עבדו, because the King has acted according to the advice of his servant, a construction which is entirely regular and agrees with that in v. 15 of [15] the same chapter. But what is in the margin (עבדך, of thy servant) does not agree with the person of the verb. [48] Similarly, in 2 Samuel 16:23 is written כאשר ישאל בדבר האלהים, and when (one) consults the word of God (i.e., when it is consulted). In the margin איש, someone, is added as the subject of the verb. But this does not seem to have been done accurately enough, for the ordinary usage of this language is to use impersonal [20] verbs in the third person singular of the active verb, as Grammarians know very well. In this way we find many notes which simply can’t be preferred to what is written.

[49] As for the Pharisees’ second argument, what we’ve just said enables us to respond to it easily too. In addition to doubtful readings, [25] the Scribes also noted obsolete words. For there’s no doubt that in the Hebrew language, as in every other, subsequent usage made many things obsolete and antiquated, that the last Scribes found such things in the Bible,⁶⁹ and that, as we’ve said, they noted all of them, so that when the texts were read in public they would be read according to [30] the usage accepted at that time. [50] That’s why the word נער, na’‘ar, is found everywhere with a marginal note; in antiquity it was of common gender, and meant the same thing juvenis does in Latin [i.e., a young person of either sex]. Similarly, the ancients pronounced the capital city of the Hebrews ירושלם, yerushalem, not ירושלים, yerushalayim. I think the same concerning the pronoun, הוא, [which can mean either] he [or] she; the later Hebrews changed the ו to a י (a frequent change in the [III/139] Hebrew language) when they wanted to signify the feminine gender; but the ancients were accustomed to distinguish the feminine from the masculine of this pronoun only by vowels [which were not, at that time, a part of the written language]. [51] Moreover, the irregularity of certain verbs was also different at different times. And finally, the [5] ancients used the paragogic letters, האמנתיו, with a refinement peculiar to their own times. I could illustrate all these things here with many examples, but I do not want to detain the reader in tedious material.

[52] If you ask, “how do you know these things?” I reply: because I’ve found them frequently among the most ancient Biblical Writers, and yet saw that later writers did not want to imitate them. This is the [10] only way words can be known to be obsolete in the other languages, even in languages now dead.

[53] But perhaps someone will still insist: [i] since I’ve maintained that most of these notes are doubtful readings, why don’t we ever find more than two readings of the same passage? why not sometimes three, or more? Again, [ii] certain things in the Written texts (which are [15] indicated correctly in the margin) are so clearly contrary to Grammar that it’s just not credible that the scribes could have been in difficulty about them and doubted which was the true reading.

[54] To these objections, too, it’s easy to reply. To the first, [i] I say that there were more readings than we find noted in our manuscripts. [20] For the Talmud notes many which the Masoretes neglected. The authors of the Talmud depart from the Masoretes so openly in many places that that superstitious⁷⁰ corrector of the Bomberg Bible⁷¹ was finally compelled to confess in his preface that he doesn’t know how to reconcile them, ולא ידענא לתרוצי אלא כדתריצנא לעיל דארחיה דגמרא לפלוגי על המסורת, we [25] don’t know how to reply here, except as we’ve done above, that the practice of the Talmud is to contradict the Masoretes. So we can have no adequate foundation for maintaining that there were never more than two readings of one passage.

[55] Nevertheless, I grant readily—indeed, I believe—that not more than two readings of one passage have ever been found. And that for [30] two reasons. First, because the cause we’ve shown for the variety of readings which exist cannot allow more than two. We’ve shown that they’ve come mainly from the similarity of certain letters. [56] So the doubt almost always came back in the end to this: which of two letters (whose use is very frequent) ought to have been written, beth, ב, or kaph, כ, yod, י, or waw, ו, daleth, ד, or resh, ר, etc.? So it could often [III/140] happen that either one would yield a tolerable meaning. Again, [in some cases the doubt might arise from the question] whether a syllable was long or short, where the length of the syllable is determined by [the presence or absence of] the Quiescent letters. Moreover, not all of the notes are doubtful readings. For we’ve said that many notes [5] were inserted for the sake of decency, or to explain obsolete and antiquated words.

[57] The second reason I’m persuaded that not more than two readings of one passage are found is that I believe the Scribes found very few copies, perhaps not more than two or three. The treatise of the Scribes, סופרים,⁷² ch. 6, mentions only three, which they hypothesize [10] were found in the time of Ezra, because they claim that these notes were inserted by Ezra himself. [58] However that may be, if they had three, we can easily conceive that in a given passage two of them always agreed. Indeed, it would’ve been marvelous if, with only three copies, they found three different readings of one and the same passage.

[15] By what fate did it happen that after Ezra there were so few copies? If you read 1 Maccabees 1[:54–61] or Josephus’ Antiquities XII, v, you won’t wonder any longer.⁷³ Indeed, it will seem marvelous that after such extensive and enduring persecution they were able to retain those few. I [20] think no one who has read that account with even moderate attention has any doubt about this.

[59] So we see why there aren’t more than two doubtful readings anywhere. The fact that there are never more than two readings is no reason to infer that in the annotated passages the Bible was deliberately written incorrectly to signify some mystery.

[25] [60] [ii] As for the second objection [§53] – that certain things are written so incorrectly that they couldn’t have doubted their being contrary to correct usage in every period, and ought to have just corrected them, without noting them in the margin – this doesn’t concern me. I’m not bound to know what religious scruple moved them not to [30] do this. [61] Perhaps they did it out of integrity, because they wanted to hand the Bible down to posterity in whatever way they themselves had found it in a few originals, and to note the discrepancies between the originals, not, indeed, as doubtful readings, but as variants. I have called them doubtful only because in almost every case I have no idea which is to be preferred to the other.

[62] Finally, in addition to these doubtful readings, the Scribes also [III/141] noted a number of mutilated passages by inserting an empty space in the middle of a paragraph. The Masoretes pass on twenty-eight of these passages where an empty space is inserted in the middle of a paragraph. I don’t know whether they also believe that some mystery lies hidden [5] in that number. Moreover, the Pharisees scrupulously keep to a certain quantity of space [in indicating these lacunae]. [63] There is an example of this—to mention one—in Genesis 4:8, where it is written: and Cain said to Abel, his brother, . . . and it happened, while they were in the field, that Cain etc.¹ An empty space is left where we were expecting to learn [10] what Cain said to his brother. Besides the things already noted, there are twenty-eight passages of this kind, left untouched by the Scribes. Many of these, however, wouldn’t appear mutilated if there weren’t a space inserted. But that’s enough on these matters.

1. Dunin-Borkowski 1933–36, III, 325–26, argued that there is a contradiction between this claim and the preceding chapter’s claim that Ezra wrote the historical books under consideration. ALM argue that there is no contradiction, that Ch. viii contends only that Ezra undertook to write a history of Israel—making extensive use of preexisting materials—and that ix, 2, contends only that his execution of this plan was very imperfect.

2. Though the question is evidently still open to debate, the current view seems to be that 2 Kings 18:13–20:19 was the source for the account of Sennacherib’s invasion of Judah in Isaiah 36–39, rather than Isaiah being the source for 2 Kings. See Anchor Isaiah, I, 459. At 2 Kings 18:13 HCSB comments that “The narrative includes much traditional material and shows signs of having gone through a long editorial history.”

3. One of the historical sources for our present Bible which it refers to, but does not include.

4. **[ADN. XI] E.g., in 2 Kings 18:20 we read in the second person אמרת, you have said, but these are only words, etc., whereas in Isaiah 36:5 we read אמרתי, I have said, surely these are words, that in war there is a need for counsel and strength. Again, in 2 Kings 18:22 we read וכי תאמרון, but perhaps you will say, in the plural; but in Isaiah’s copy [36:7] this is in the singular. Moreover, in the text of Isaiah we do not read these words (from 2 Kings 18:32) ארץ זית יצהר ודבש וחיו ולא תמתו ואל- תשמעו אל- חזקיהו [a land of olive oil and honey, so that you may live and not die. Don’t listen to Hezekiah]. In this way there are many other variant readings. No one will be able to determine which should be chosen in preference to the others.

5. On the relationship between 2 Kings and Jeremiah, see Anchor Kings, II, 320–21.

6. On the relationship between 2 Sam. 7 and 1 Chron. 17, see Anchor Chronicles, II, 662–64.

7. **[ADN. XII] E.g., in 2 Samuel 7:6 we read ואהיה מתהלך באהל ובמשכן, and I have continually wandered with a tent and a tabernacle, whereas in 1 Chronicles 17:5 we read ואהיה מאהל אל-אהל וממשכן, and I went from tent to tent and from tabernacle, with מתהלך changed into מאהל, אהל into אל-אהל and במשכן into ממשכן. Again, 2 Samuel 7:10 reads נותו, to afflict him, and 1 Chronicles 17:9 reads לבלתו, to waste him. And in this way everyone who is neither completely blind nor altogether mad, and who has once read these chapters, will notice many discrepancies, and others of greater importance.

8. The information about the kings of Edom in Genesis is almost identical to that in 1 Chronicles, except that the last verse of this section in Chronicles reports the death of Hadad. HCSB comments that “this addition makes the chiefs [whose names immediately follow] clearly subsequent to the list of Edomite kings.”

9. **[ADN. XIII] That this text concerns only the time when Joseph was sold is not established only from the context of the statement. It may also be inferred from Judah’s age. At that time he was twenty-two at most, if we may make a calculation from the preceding narrative about him. For it is evident from Genesis 29:35 that Judah was born in the tenth year after the Patriarch Jacob began to serve Laban; but Joseph was born in the fourteenth year. [For this claim concerning the year of Joseph’s birth, see the note to §12.] Since Joseph was seventeen years old when he was sold, Judah at that time was no more than twenty-one. So those who believe that Judah’s long absence from home happened before Joseph was sold are deluding themselves, and are more anxious about the divinity of Scripture than certain of it.

10. Gen. 37 had concluded by reporting the sale of Joseph to the Egyptians. Gen. 38 interrupts the narrative about Joseph with the story of Judah and Tamar, which Spinoza summarizes in §10. The problem is that the events recounted in Gen. 38 are supposed to have begun when Joseph was sold into bondage in Egypt and that twenty-two years later, when Judah moved to Egypt, he was accompanied not only by the children he had by Tamar, but also by the two grandchildren he had through one of her sons (as we learn in Gen. 46:12).

Worries about the chronology of Gen. 38 go back to Seder Olam, a biblical commentary from the second century C.E. Seder Olam is able to squeeze all these events into the twenty-two years which it supposes to have passed between the sale of Joseph and Judah’s move to Egypt by assuming that Judah’s sons by Shua’s daughter and Tamar all married at the age of seven. See Seder Olam 2005, 32–34.

In his commentary on Gen. 38:1 Ibn Ezra rejected this solution, arguing that procreation starts at twelve at the earliest. His solution is that the phrase “at that time” does not (as we might have expected) refer to the time mentioned in the immediately preceding verse—the time when Joseph was sold—but to an earlier time. He does not say when that time was, and it is hard to see when it could have been, consistently with Judah’s participation in the sale of Joseph in Gen. 37. See Ibn Ezra 1988, I, 354–55. Spinoza therefore proposes an alternative theory of the text.

11. This is the traditional calculation, as given in Seder Olam 2005, 30–31 (and assumed by Ibn Ezra in his commentary on Gen. 38).

12. A clearer example than the one Spinoza gives, perhaps, is that twice Jacob is told that he will no longer be called Jacob, but will henceforth be known as Israel. (See Gen. 32:28 and 35:10.) But he continues to be called Jacob after that, though not consistently. Sometimes he is called Israel. (E.g., in Gen. 35:20, 35:22b, and 37:1–2 he is called Jacob. In Gen. 35:21–22a, 37:3, and 37:13, he is called Israel.) This was a classic problem, addressed by Manasseh ben Israel in his Conciliator, 1842/1972, I, 82–84. For other inconsistencies in the Joseph-Jacob stories, see Anchor Genesis, xxxiii.

13. **[ADN. XIV] For what some people think—viz. that Jacob traveled between Mesopotamia and Bethel for eight or ten years—smacks of foolishness. I might have said this, with all due respect to Ibn Ezra. For Jacob hurried as much as he could, not only because of the desire to see his parents which no doubt possessed him, but also to fulfill the vow he had made (see Gen. 28:20 and 31:13).

But if these seem to be conjectures rather than reasons, let’s grant that, by a fate worse than that which befell Ulysses, Jacob spent eight or ten additional years on this short journey—or more, if you like. Certainly they will not be able to deny that Benjamin was born in the last year of this travel [35:16–18], i.e., according to their hypothesis, in about the fifteenth or sixteenth year after Joseph was born. For Jacob said good-bye to Laban in the seventh year after the birth of Joseph. But from Joseph’s seventeenth year to the year in which the patriarch himself went to Egypt, there were not more than twenty-two years, as we have shown in this chapter [§9]. And so Benjamin was twenty-three or twenty-four at most when he went to Egypt. But though he was thus in the flower of his youth, it is established that he had grandchildren (see Genesis 46:21, and compare it with Numbers 26:38–40 and 1 Chronicles 8:1ff.). This, of course, is no less unreasonable than to maintain that Dinah was raped at the age of seven, and the other things we have deduced from the order of this history. So it is plain that when inexperienced men try to solve these difficulties, they fall into others, and complicate and mangle the situation more.

14. The point in this paragraph seems to be, not so much that the narrative contains inconsistences in the strict sense, as that it contains serious improbabilities. A very old man acts with the passion we might more naturally expect of a very young man; preadolescent boys talk and act in a way we might find more credible in adults; and a very young girl is the victim of a sexual assault. Perhaps not all of these things are quite as improbable as Spinoza thinks, but taken collectively they seem a lot to swallow.

Spinoza’s estimate of Jacob’s age at the time of his marriage to Leah is based on the following calculations. First, he assumes, on the basis of the data presented in §9 of the text, that Jacob grieved twenty-two years because of Joseph’s absence. Given that Jacob was 130 when Joseph presented him to the Pharaoh (47:9), if we subtract the twenty-two years of grief, plus the seventeen years of Joseph’s age when sold into slavery, and the seven years Jacob served Laban between his marriage to Leah and the birth of Joseph, we get eighty-four. Genesis Rabbah (II, 618) had already reached this result by a different route.

We must not suppose, as some do, that Jacob had to wait seven years between his marriage to Leah and his marriage to Rachel. Gen. 29:26–30 says he waited only a week. He was permitted to marry Rachel before he served his second seven years of service. But Rachel was barren for several years before she had Joseph. The traditional assumption was that the twelve children born to Jacob in Paddan-Aram were all born during the second seven-year period. See Ibn Ezra 1988, I, 288 (and Seder Olam 2005, 23). Spinoza is content to make the traditional assumption. As Ibn Ezra had pointed out, counting the two handmaidens, there were four women involved, some of whom may have been pregnant concurrently. To account for the birth of twelve children in seven years, it is not necessary to assume that all the children were born prematurely.

Spinoza’s estimate of the ages of Dinah, Simeon, and Levi at the time of the rape is the estimate Ibn Ezra makes of their ages when they arrived in Shechem. See his commentary on Gen. 33:20 (1988, I, 326). But Ibn Ezra assumes that Jacob and his family stayed in Shechem for many years before proceeding on to Bethel. He does not say why, but presumably thought this assumption was necessary to explain the events of Gen. 34. ADN. XIV is designed to block this move.

15. The recognition that the scriptural text often contains alternate versions of the same story—as, for example, the two separate versions of the creation story in Gen. 1–2:4a and Gen. 2:4b–3:24, or the two blended versions of the flood story in Gen. 6:5–8:22—was an important step in the development of the Documentary Hypothesis. On this see Friedman 1989, ch. 2, or Coogan 2006, chs. 1 and 2. Spinoza is keenly aware of the existence of these “doublets” and the inconsistencies between them. He would have found the inconsistencies between the various accounts of the creation and the flood, for example, discussed in Manasseh’s Conciliator, questions 3, 5, 9, 12, 28, 29, and 31. The Joseph-Jacob stories are another example where two different stories have been blended. Cf. Anchor Genesis, xxxiii.

16. The discontinuities and repetitions which occur in the passages connecting Joshua to Judges (from Josh. 24:29 through Judg. 2:10) have led the most recent twentieth-century editor to propose that the central portions of Judges (2:6–15:20) are an eighth-century editor’s collection of old stories, which later editors have embedded in a Deuteronomic or Deuteronomistic framework. See Anchor Judges, 29–38, and its comments on Judges 1–2.

17. **[ADN. XV] That is, in other terms and in another order than are found in the book of Joshua. [This adnotation occurs only in two of our sources, Saint-Glain and KB. Its authenticity is doubtful.]

18. On the relation between these two versions of a story in which David spares Saul’s life, see Anchor Samuel, I, 385–87, 409–10.

19. By the time of Manasseh ben Israel’s Conciliator there had been a long history of attempts to reconcile the numbers. Cf. his comment on Judges 11:26 (1842/1972, II, 29–34). Though Spinoza never explicitly mentions Manasseh, it seems clear that Proietti 1997 is right to argue that he has him in mind in this passage. Manasseh’s way of setting up the problem is very close to the one Spinoza uses in §17. He then canvasses several possible solutions before proposing his own, which makes what sometimes seem to be rather arbitrary assumptions about how long those judges governed whose periods of government Scripture does not specify. He does not consider the difficulties Spinoza raises in §§18–26.

20. See, for example, Num. 32:13 or Josh. 5:6.

21. See Josephus, Antiquities V, i, 29 (which, however, gives 25 as the number of years Joshua ruled).

22. See Judg. 3:8.

23. **[ADN. XVI] Rabbi Levi ben Gerson and others believe that these forty years, which Scripture says passed in freedom [Judges 3:11], nevertheless begin with the death of Joshua, and so include the preceding eight years, in which the people were subject to Cushan-rishathaim, and that the eighteen years which followed [Judges 3:14] are also to be included in the eighty years that Ehud and Shamgar judged. Thus they believe that remaining years of bondage are always included under those Scripture says passed in freedom. But because Scripture expressly reckons how many years the Hebrews spent in bondage and how many in freedom, and in Judges 2:18 expressly tells us that the Hebrews always flourished under the judges, it is quite evident that this Rabbi (otherwise a very learned man) and those who follow in his footsteps are correcting Scripture, rather than explaining it, when they try to resolve such difficulties.

So do those who maintain that in that general calculation of years Scripture wanted to indicate only the periods when there was a Jewish state, and could not have included in the general account the years of anarchy or of bondage, as being inauspicious and, as it were, interruptions of the government. For indeed, Scripture usually does pass over in silence periods of anarchy; but it usually treats years of bondage no less than those of freedom, nor is it accustomed, as they fancy, to delete them from the annals.

That Ezra meant to include, in that general summing up of years in 1 Kings [6], absolutely all the years from the exodus from Egypt is a thing so manifest that no one practiced in Scripture has ever questioned it. For to pass over now the words of the text itself, the Genealogy of David given at the end of Ruth [4:18–22] and in 1 Chronicles 2[:11–15] hardly allows so large a sum of years. For Nahshon was the leader of the tribe of Judah in the second year after the exodus from Egypt (see Numbers 7:11–12). So he died in the wilderness, and his son Salmon crossed the Jordan with Joshua. But this Salmon, according to the Genealogy of David, was David’s great-great-grandfather. If we subtract from this sum of 480 years the four years of Solomon’s reign, the seventy years of David’s life, and the forty passed in the desert, we will find that David was born in the 366th year after the crossing of the Jordan and consequently, that it is necessary that his father, grandfather, great-grandfather and great-great-grandfather fathered children when each of them was ninety years old.

24. See Judg. 3:11.

25. See Judg. 3:14.

26. Spinoza’s basis for this is presumably Judg. 3:30–31, though those verses suggest that the period of 80 years mentioned in 3:30 counts only the period when Ehud was a judge. The text gives no information about the length of time Shamgar was a judge.

27. See Judg. 4:3.

28. This would be during the period when Deborah and Barak were judges. Judg. 4–5.

29. See Judg. 6:1.

30. See Judg. 8:28.

31. See Judg. 9:22.

32. Judg. 10:2.

33. Judg. 10:3.

34. Judg. 10:7–8.

35. Judg. 12:7.

36. Judg. 12:9.

37. Judg. 12:11.

38. Judg. 12:14.

39. Judg. 13:1.

40. **[ADN. XVII] Samson was born after the Philistines had subjugated the Hebrews. [Saint-Glain: One might doubt whether these twenty years should be counted under the years of freedom or whether they are included in the forty immediately preceding years, during which the people were under the yoke of the Philistines. For myself, I confess that I find it more probable and credible that the Hebrews recovered their freedom when the leaders of the Philistines perished with Samson. Also, I have counted these twenty years of Samson among those during which the yoke of the Philistines lasted only because Samson was born after the Philistines had subjugated the Hebrews, besides the fact that in the treatise on the Sabbath there is mention of a certain book on Jerusalem, where it is said that Samson judged the people forty years. But it is not a question only of these years.]

41. Judg. 15:20.

42. 1 Sam. 4:18.

43. 1 Sam. 7:2.

44. 1 Kings 2:11.

45. 1 Kings 6:1.

46. In his Antiquities VIII, iii, 1, Josephus had given a figure of 592 years between the exodus and the building of the temple, but had not discussed the inconsistency between that figure and 1 Kings 6:1.

47. The presence of multiple authors/editors in the first three chapters of Judges makes the chronology of the events described there very unclear, but Spinoza’s verdict seems reasonable. See §14 and the annotation there.

48. Modern translations acknowledge the defectiveness of the text. The NRSV translation reads as follows: “Saul was . . . years old when he began to reign; and he reigned . . . and two years over Israel.” The HCSB annotation comments that in the first lacuna the number is lacking in the Hebrew text, and that in the second, “two is not the entire number; something has dropped out.” Similarly in the NJPS edition and Anchor Samuel. The problem is not just the improbability of Saul’s beginning his reign at the age of one, but, as Manasseh puts it, that “so many events took place during Saul’s reign, that it seems incredible that they could have occurred in the small space of two years” (1842/1972, II, 46). When Manasseh discusses this passage (in Part II, questions 8 and 12), rather than question the integrity of the text, he proposes metaphorical interpretations of the passage.

49. Josephus, Antiquities VI, xiv, 9. This quotation indicates that Spinoza is reading Josephus in the Latin translation made by the order of Cassiodorus. The Greek text says that Saul reigned for twenty-two years after the death of Samuel. For further discussion, see ALM.

50. The reference is to 1 Sam. 7:13–14, verses whose inconsistency with other parts of the narrative troubled commentators as long ago as Kimchi, who interpreted the phrase “all the days of Samuel” to mean “all the years in which Samuel exercised sole authority, before he became old and delegated his duties to his sons.” The consensus of modern editors is to regard them as insertions of the Deuteronomic editor. Cf. Anchor Samuel, I, 147.

51. That is, the years following the death of Samson, in which no king ruled, and no judge is mentioned.

52. Spinoza explains the inconsistency between 2 Kings 1:17 and 2 Kings 8:16 by contending that the editors of 2 Kings relied on inconsistent sources, now lost, without eliminating the inconsistency. Kimchi had explained the inconsistency by supposing that Jehoram, the son of Jehoshaphat, began to reign while his father was still alive, but did not officially become king until his death, which was in the fifth year of the reign of Jehoram, the son of Ahab. Some later commentators accepted this solution (ALM).

53. In his discussion of 1 and 2 Kings in his Conciliator Manasseh identifies nearly two dozen passages where the accounts in those books are prima facie inconsistent with those in 1 and 2 Chronicles.

54. By contrast, 2 Kings 8:26 gives Ahaziah’s age as twenty-two at the beginning of his reign. In Part II, qu. 41, Manasseh discusses this problem (recognized as early as Seder Olam) and ascribes the solution Spinoza rejects to Gersonides. For the proposals of Rashi and Kimchi, see ALM.

55. **[ADN. XVIII] Otherwise they correct the words of Scripture rather than explain them.

56. Literally, “he will be a great Apollo for me,” echoing a line from Virgil’s Eclogues III, 404.

57. A rare and important autobiographical statement, which unfortunately presents translation problems. I have rendered imbutus fuerim as I was instructed in; Elwes has I was imbued with. Either is possible; Elwes’ rendering suggests that for a long time Spinoza accepted the views he was taught; mine allows the possibility that Spinoza may have become skeptical about those teachings at an early age.

58. This was, for example, the view of the Westminster Confession. See ch. I, sec. viii.

59. Later (in ix, 63) Spinoza will give Gen. 4:8 as an example.

60. ALM note that Johannes Buxtorf seems to be among those under attack here.

61. Possibly a reference to Manasseh ben Israel, though he would not have been the only Kabbalist in the Amsterdam Jewish community. See Katchen 1984, ch. 2. And on the Kabbalah generally, see Scholem 1974. ALM note that Spinoza possessed works by Joseph del Medigo and doubtless knew Abraham Herrera’s Puerta del Cielo.

62. **[ADN. XIX] Kirjath-jearim is also called Baale-judah. So Kimchi and others think that baale yehudah, which I have here translated from the people of Judah, is the name of the town. But they are mistaken, because baale is plural in number. Again, if we compare this text of Samuel with the one in 1 Chronicles [13:6], we shall see that David did not get up and go from Baale, but that he went to there. For if the author of 2 Samuel were concerned to at least indicate the place from which David carried off the ark, then to speak proper Hebrew he would have said: and David arose, and set out etc. from Baale-judah, and from there he carried off the ark of God.

63. Here the judgment of modern scholarship would seem to be that Spinoza is right to think the Masoretic text corrupt, but wrong in his conjecture about how the text should read. Cf. Anchor Samuel, II, 162–63.

64. **[ADN. XX] Those who have been involved in commenting on this text have corrected it in the following way: and Absalom fled, and went to Talmai, the son of Ammihud, king of Geshur, where he stayed for three years, and David mourned his son all the time he was at Geshur. But if that’s what they call interpretation, and if we’re permitted to give ourselves such license in the explanation of Scripture, and to transpose in that way whole phrases, either by joining them or by cutting something out, I acknowledge that we are permitted to corrupt Scripture, and to give it as many different forms as we like, as if it were a piece of wax. [Spinoza’s judgment that the received text is corrupt is evidently correct, though the comment in the annotation may be unduly harsh. See Anchor Samuel, II, 332.]

65. Printed Hebrew Bibles typically contain more than a thousand marginal notes reflecting differences between the consonantal text and the version of the text read in services. The latter is known as the qere (what is to be read), whereas the text is known as the kethib (what is written). Sometimes these notes seem clearly intended to correct textual errors; in other cases, they clearly give variant readings. Sometimes their purpose is not clear. See NJPS, p. xii, n. 5. ALM note that the danger of confusing similar letters was a common theme among Hebraists in this period.

66. So the NJPS edition normally bases its translation on the qere, noting that although the qere was preserved only in the margin, the Masoretes gave it greater weight than the kethib. The quotation from Judges 21 at the end of §37 is an instance of this.

67. The omission of the final consonant changes the meaning of the word from young woman to young man.

68. In the unpointed scrolls read in the Synagogues, although the kethib is retained in the text, the qere is not given in the margin. The reader is expected to know when to read the qere instead of the kethib.

69. Although it is difficult to date the earliest parts of the Hebrew Bible, there is apparently a consensus that they go back at least to some time in the tenth century B.C.E., and possibly considerably earlier. The latest parts can be more confidently dated to the early second century B.C.E. (see Kugel 2007, 5). This offers considerable scope for linguistic change.

70. Latin: superstitiosus, which can, of course, mean superstitious, but may also mean nothing more than a blind adherence to rules.

71. Daniel Bomberg, one of the earliest printers of Hebrew-language books, published the first Rabbinic Bible (Mikra’ot Gedolot), consisting of the Hebrew text with Targums and the standard commentaries (including those of Rashi and Ibn Ezra) in 4 volumes, in 1517–18. Spinoza’s superstitiosus corrector was R. Jacob ben Hayyim, who edited the second edition of the Bomberg Bible, which appeared in 1524–25. According to the Encyclopaedia Judaica, R. Jacob believed in the importance of the masorah as the guarantor of the correct text, and “went to great pains . . . to secure as many codices with a masorah as possible.” But as he discovered that “the masorah did not harmonize with the majority of the codices,” he had to exercise his discretion. Later Bibles in the sixteenth century tend to follow his text. The Bible on which Spinoza primarily relied was the four-volume rabbinic Bible published by Buxtorf in 1618. The Bibles produced by Buxtorf were modeled on the Bomberg Bible, but were influenced by Sephardic, rather than Ashkenazic, traditions.

72. Spinoza is referring to an extra-canonical treatise, added at the end of the order Nezikin in the Babylonian Talmud. In ch. 6, §4 we read: “R. Simeon ben Lakish says they discovered three books in the Temple.” He tells how they compared their texts, and in each case preferred the reading given by two manuscripts over that given by only one (ALM).

73. The texts cited describe the attempt of Antiochus in the second century B.C.E. to destroy Judaism by having copies of the Bible burned and those found possessing them killed.

[III/141] CHAPTER X

The Remaining Books of the Old Testament
Examined in the same way as above

[1] I pass to the remaining books of the Old Testament. About the two books of Chronicles I have nothing certain and worth noting, except that they were written long after Ezra,² and perhaps after Judas Maccabee [20] restored the temple.³** For in 1 Chronicles 9 the Historian relates which families first (i.e., in the time of Ezra) lived in Jerusalem.⁴ And again in 1 Chronicles 9:17 he gives information about the gatekeepers, two of whom are also mentioned in Nehemiah 11:19. This shows that these books were written long after the rebuilding of the city.⁵

[25] [2] However that may be, nothing is apparent to me about the true Writer of these books, nor about their authority, utility and teaching. Indeed, I cannot sufficiently wonder that they have been accepted as Sacred by the people who removed the book of wisdom, Tobias, and the rest of the so-called apocrypha from the canon of the sacred books.⁶ Nevertheless, it is not my intent to lessen their authority; since everyone [30] has accepted them, I too leave them as they are.

[3] The Psalms were also collected, and divided up into five books, in the time of the second temple.⁷ For according to the testimony of Philo Judaeus, Psalm 88 was edited while King Jehoiakin was still kept [III/142] in captivity in Babylon, and Psalm 89 when the same King obtained his freedom. I don’t believe Philo would ever have said this unless either it was the received opinion in his time or he had accepted it from others worthy of trust.⁸

[4] I believe the Proverbs of Solomon were also collected at the same time, or at the earliest, in the time of King Josiah, because the [5] last verse of ch. 24 says, These also are the Proverbs of Solomon, which the men of Hezekiah, king of Judah, transcribed.⁹ [5] But here I cannot pass over in silence the boldness of the Rabbis, who wanted this book, along with Ecclesiastes, excluded from the canon of Sacred books, and wanted to keep it under guard, along with other books we are now lacking.¹⁰ They would simply have done this, if they had not found [10] certain passages which commended the law of Moses. It is surely a cause of grief that sacred and noble matters depended on the choice of these men. All the same, I thank them for having been willing to share these books too with us—though I cannot help doubting whether they have handed them down in good faith.¹¹ But I don’t want to subject this to a strict examination here.

[15] [6] So I proceed to the books of the Prophets.¹² When I pay close attention to these books, I see that the Prophecies in them have been collected from other books, and that they aren’t always written down in the same order in which the Prophets themselves spoke or wrote them. Moreover, they don’t even contain all the [Prophecies], but only those [the editors] were able to find here and there. So these books are only the fragments of the Prophets.

[20] [7] For Isaiah began to prophesy in the reign of Uzziah, as the transcriber himself tells us in the first verse. But he not only prophesied at that time, he also recorded all the deeds of this King (see 2 Chronicles 26:22). This book is now lost. What we have, we have shown to have been copied out from the Chronicles of the Kings of [25] Judah and of Israel.¹³ [8] Add to this that the Rabbis maintain that this Prophet prophesied also in the reign of Manasseh, by whom, in the end, he was killed. And although they seem to be relating a legend, still they seem to have believed that not all of his Prophecies were extant.¹⁴

[9] Second, the Prophecies of Jeremiah, which are narrated in an historical manner, have been gathered and assembled from various [30] chroniclers. For not only are they piled up confusedly, without attention to chronological order, but the same story is repeated in different ways. Ch. 21 explains the reason for Jeremiah’s imprisonment: when Zedekiah consulted him, he predicted the destruction of the city. Ch. 22 interrupts this story to relate his declamation against Jehoiakin, [III/143] who reigned before Zedekiah,¹⁵ and his prediction of the King’s captivity. Then ch. 25 describes things revealed to the Prophet before these, in the fourth year of the reign of Jehoiakim [Jehoiakin’s father and predecessor as king]. [In ch. 26] we find things which happened in the first year of this King. [10] And so, without any chronological [5] order, [the editor] proceeds to pile up Prophecies, until finally ch. 38 returns to what ch. 21 began to narrate, as if these fifteen chapters were spoken parenthetically.¹⁶ For the conjunction with which ch. 38 begins¹⁷ is related to 21:8–10. And then it describes very differently the final imprisonment of Jeremiah and gives a very different reason for his long detention in the guard’s court than the reason narrated in [10] ch. 37. You can see clearly that all these [passages] are collected from different Historians, and that [their disorder] cannot be excused by any other reason.

[11] As for the rest of the Prophecies, contained in the remaining chapters, where Jeremiah speaks in the first person, they seem to have been copied out from the scroll Baruch wrote at Jeremiah’s own dictation. [15] For it’s apparent from Jeremiah 36:2 that that scroll contained only the things revealed to this Prophet from Josiah’s time down to the fourth year of Jehoiakim, when this book begins. The materials from 45:2 to 51:59 also seem to have been copied out from that scroll.

[20] [12] The first verses of Ezekiel indicate very clearly that it too is only a fragment. Who does not see that the conjunction the book begins with¹⁸ is related to other things already said, and connects them with the things to follow? But it’s not only the conjunction; the whole context of the statement presupposes other previous writings. [13] For this book begins with a reference to the thirtieth year,¹⁹ which shows [25] that the Prophet is continuing his narration, not beginning it. The Writer himself also notes this when he adds parenthetically in v. 3, the word of God often came to Ezekiel, the priest, the son of Buzi, in the land of the Chaldeans, etc., as if to say that the words of Ezekiel which he had recorded up to that point were related to other things, which had been revealed to him before this thirtieth year. Further, in his Antiquities [30] (X, vii, [2]) Josephus relates that Ezekiel predicted that Zedekiah would not see Babylon, which we do not read in our book—i.e., the book we have.²⁰ On the contrary, one reads there (in 17:[16–21]) that he would be led as a captive to Babylon.²¹**

[14] Concerning Hosea we cannot say with certainty that he wrote more things than are contained in the book attributed to him. Still, I am amazed that we do not have more writings of his, since the Writer [III/144] testifies that he prophesied more than 84 years.²²

[15] We can, at least, know this in general: that the Writers of these books did not collect all the prophecies of all the Prophets, nor even all the prophecies of the Prophets we have. For of the Prophets who prophesied during the reign of Manasseh (mentioned generally in 2 [5] Chronicles 33:10, 18 and 19), we have no prophecies at all. Nor do we have all the prophecies of these twelve Prophets.²³ For of Jonah’s Prophecies, only those about the Ninevites are recorded, though he also prophesied to the Israelites (see 2 Kings 14:25).

[10] [16] Concerning the book of Job, and Job himself, there has been much controversy among the Writers.²⁴ Some people think Moses wrote this book, and that the whole story is only a parable. Some of the Rabbis in the Talmud hand down this view; Maimonides too leans toward it in his Moreh Nevuchim. Others have believed the story to be [15] true. Of these, some thought that this Job lived in the time of Jacob, and that he married Jacob’s daughter, Dinah. [17] But as I’ve already said [vii, 64], Ibn Ezra asserts in his commentaries on this book that it was translated into Hebrew from another language.

I wish he had shown us this more clearly. If he had, we could infer [20] that the gentiles too had sacred books. [But since he didn’t,] I leave the matter in doubt. Nevertheless, I do conjecture that Job was a gentile²⁵ whose heart was very constant, and whose affairs at first prospered, then went very badly, and finally were very fortunate. For Ezekiel 14:14 names him among others [as a righteous man]. [18] And I believe that the changes in Job’s fortunes, and the constancy of his heart, gave many [25] people an occasion for arguing about God’s providence—or at least gave the author of this book an occasion to compose this Dialogue. For the things in it, as well as the style, seem to be, not those of a man suffering among the ashes, but those of a man reflecting at leisure in his study.²⁶ And here I would believe, along with Ibn Ezra, that this book really was translated from another language, because [the author] seems [30] to aspire to the poetic art of the Gentiles. For twice the Father of the Gods calls a council, and Momus (here called Satan) criticizes God’s dictates with the greatest freedom, etc. But these are only conjectures, and are not sufficiently firm.

[19] I pass to the book of Daniel. From ch. 8 on, this book no doubt contains Daniel’s own writings. But where the first seven chapters were [III/145] copied from, I don’t know. Except for the first, they were written in Chaldean.²⁷ So we can suspect that they were taken from the Chronicles of the Chaldeans. [20] If this were clearly established, it would be most splendid evidence to persuade us that Scripture is sacred only insofar as by Scripture we mean the things signified in Scripture, not insofar as we [5] mean by Scripture the words, or the language and utterances, by which things are signified. It would show, further, that the books teaching and relating excellent things are equally sacred, whatever language they were finally written in, and whatever nation wrote them. [21] Nevertheless, we can at least note this: these chapters were written in Chaldean and, notwithstanding that, are as sacred as the rest of the Bible.

[10] The first book of Ezra²⁸ is so connected to this book of Daniel that it is easy to see that the Writer is the same person, who is continuing to relate the affairs of the Jews in sequence, from the first part of the captivity.²⁹

[22] And I don’t doubt that the Book of Esther is connected with the first book of Ezra. For the conjunction with which this book begins³⁰ can’t be related to any other book. Furthermore, it is not credible that [15] Esther is the book Mordecai wrote.³¹ For in 9:20–22 another person relates, concerning Mordecai, that he wrote Letters, and what they contained. Moreover, in 9:31[–32], [the narrator relates] that queen Esther established by edict matters pertaining to the festival of Lots (Purim), and that this was written in a book. It sounds in the Hebrew [20] as though this was a book known to everyone at that time—viz. the time in which the things [in the book of Esther] were written. And Ibn Ezra confesses, as everyone is bound to confess, that this [book] perished with the others. Finally, [in 10:2] the Historian sends us to the Chronicles of the Kings of Persia for the rest of Mordecai’s story.

[23] There is thus no doubt that the same Historian who related the affairs of Daniel and Ezra also wrote this book, as well as the book of [25] Nehemiah³²* (called the second book of Ezra). So we maintain that one and the same Historian wrote these four books: Daniel, Ezra, Esther and Nehemiah. But who he was, I cannot even conjecture.

[24] How did this person, whoever he was, acquire knowledge of [30] these accounts, and perhaps also copy down most of them? Like the Kings in the first temple, the governors, or princes, of the Jews in the second temple had scribes or historiographers who wrote annals, or their Chronicles, in sequence. The Chronicles of the Kings, or their annals, are cited throughout the books of Kings. Those of the Princes [III/146] and priests of the second temple are first cited in Nehemiah 12:23, and next in 1 Maccabees 16:24. [25] No doubt this is the book we just spoke about (see Esther 9:31[–32]), which gave accounts of Esther’s edict and Mordecai’s deeds, and which (with Ibn Ezra) we have said perished. It [5] seems, then, that all the things contained in these [four books] have been selected or copied out from this book. For the Writer of these books does not cite any other book, and we do not know any other book whose authority is generally recognized.

[26] That neither Ezra nor Nehemiah wrote these books is evident from the fact that Nehemiah 12:10–11 traces the descendants of the [10] high priest, Jeshua, down to Jaddua, the sixth high priest, who went out to meet Alexander the Great when he had nearly subjugated the Persian empire³³* (or as Philo Judaeus says in the book of times,³⁴ the sixth and last priest under the Persians). [27] Indeed, Nehemiah 12:22 indicates this clearly: In the time of Eliashib, Joiada, Johanan and Jaddua, says the Historian, the Levites were recorded on³⁵* the reign of Darius the Persian, i.e., in the Chronicles. I believe no one will think that either Ezra³⁶** or Nehemiah was so long-lived that they survived fourteen Kings of Persia. For Cyrus was the first to give the Jews permission to rebuild the temple, and from his time until that of Darius, the fourteenth and last of the Persian Kings, we count more than 230 years.³⁷

[28] So I do not doubt that these books [Daniel, Ezra, Esther and Nehemiah] were written long after Judas Maccabee restored worship in the temple,³⁸ because at that time the false books of Daniel, Ezra and Esther³⁹ were circulated by certain malevolent people who no doubt belonged to the Sect of the Sadducees. For so far as I know, the Pharisees never accepted those books. And although we find in the book called 4 Ezra certain tales which we also read in the Talmud, that is still no reason to attribute them to the Pharisees. If you discount the most foolish of them, there is none of them who does not believe [30] that those legends were added by some trifler.⁴⁰ I also believe that some [Sadducees] did this to make the traditions [of the Pharisees] laughable to everyone. [29] Or if you prefer, perhaps [those books] were copied out and published at that time to show the people that the Prophecies of Daniel were fulfilled and in this way to strengthen them in religion, [III/147] so that in such great calamities they would not despair of having better times and of their future salvation.

[30] But though these books⁴¹ are so much later and more recent, many errors have crept into them. If I’m not mistaken, this happened because they were copied out hastily. For in these books, as in the others, [5] we find marginal notes of the kind we treated in the last Chapter, but more of them than in the others. Moreover, there are also certain passages which cannot be explained in any other way, as I shall shortly show.

First, though, I want to note this regarding the marginal readings of these books: even if we must grant the Pharisees that these readings go back to those who wrote the books themselves,⁴² then we must say [10] that the Writers (if, by chance, there was more than one) made a note of these readings because they found that the Chronicles they were transcribing were not written accurately enough, and that, though certain errors were clear, they still did not dare to correct the writings of the ancients and of their predecessors. There is no need now for me to treat these matters more fully here again.

[15] [31] So I proceed to point out things not noted in the margin. First, I don’t know how many errors have crept into Ezra 2. For in v. 64 the total of all those who have been numbered in the various families is given as 42,360. Nevertheless, if you add the subtotals for each family, you will not find more than 29,818. Something is wrong here, either [20] in the total or in the subtotals.⁴³ But it seems we ought to believe that it is the overall total which is given correctly. No doubt everyone had an accurate recall of something so memorable, whereas the subtotals are not so memorable. If an error were to slip into the overall total, it would immediately be evident to everyone, and would easily be corrected.

[25] [32] There is complete confirmation of this in Nehemiah 7, where this chapter of Ezra (called the letter on genealogy) is copied out (as is expressly said in v. 5), the overall total [given in Nehemiah 7:66] agrees completely with that of the book of Ezra, whereas the subtotals differ greatly. You will find that some subtotals are larger, and others smaller, than they are in Ezra.⁴⁴ Together they all add up to 31,089. [30] So no doubt many errors have crept into both the book of Ezra and that of Nehemiah, but only in the subtotals.

[33] As for the commentators who try to reconcile these evident contradictions, each one invents what he can, according to the power of his mentality. In the meantime, while they worship the letters and words of Scripture, the only effect of their actions, as we already warned [III/148] above [III/134/25–135/1], is to expose the Writers of the Bible to contempt, so that they seem not to know how to speak, or how to order the things they have to say. All they do is obscure completely what is clear in Scripture. If it were permissible to interpret Scripture [5] everywhere in their way, there would be absolutely no utterance whose true meaning we could not doubt.

[34] But there’s no reason to go on at length about these matters. I’m convinced that if some Historian wanted to imitate everything they, in their devotion, permit the Writers of the Bible to do, they would ridicule him on many grounds. If they think it blasphemous [10] to say that Scripture is faulty somewhere, tell me what I should say about people who ascribe to Scripture whatever invention they please? or who so dishonor the Sacred Historians that they are believed to babble and to confuse everything? or who deny the clear and most evident meanings of Scripture? [35] For what is clearer in Scripture than that in the Letter on Genealogy copied out in ch. 2 of the [15] book attributed to him, Ezra (with his colleagues)⁴⁵ included in his enumeration of the families all those who set out for Jerusalem? Among them he gives both the number of those who could show their Genealogy, and the number of those who could not [Ezra 2:59–63]. What is clearer from Nehemiah 7:5, I ask, than that Nehemiah simply [20] copied out this Letter?

[36] So those who explain these passages differently are only denying the true meaning of Scripture, and consequently, denying Scripture itself. As for their thinking it pious to accommodate some passages of Scripture to others,⁴⁶ it is a ridiculous piety to accommodate the clear passages to the obscure, the correct to the faulty, and to corrupt the [25] sound passages with the rotten. Still, I won’t call them blasphemers; they don’t intend any evil. To err is indeed human.⁴⁷

But I return to my point. [37] In addition to the errors which must be conceded to exist in the sums of the Letter on Genealogy, both in Ezra and in Nehemiah, there are many also in the names of [30] the families, still more in the Genealogies, in the histories and, I’m afraid, even in the Prophecies themselves. For certainly the Prophecy of Jeremiah 22 concerning Jeconiah does not seem to agree at all with his history. Compare particularly the words of the last verse of that chapter with the end of 2 Kings, and of Jeremiah, and 1 Chronicles 3:17–19.⁴⁸

[38] Nor do I see how he could say of Zedekiah, whose eyes were [III/149] gouged out as soon as he had seen his sons put to death [2 Kings 25:7], you will die in peace etc. (see Jeremiah 34:5).⁴⁹ If Prophecies are to be interpreted according to the outcome, these names would have to be changed and it would seem that for Zedekiah we should read Jeconiah, and conversely. But this would be too great a paradox; and so I prefer to [5] leave the matter as one which cannot be perceived—especially because, if there’s some error here, it must be attributed to the Historian, not to a defect in the copies.

[39] As for the other errors I’ve mentioned, I don’t think it worthwhile to identify them here. I couldn’t do that without wearying the reader—and others have already noted them. [40] Because of the very [10] manifest contradictions Rabbi Schlomoh⁵⁰ observed in the genealogies related, he was forced to burst out in these words:

That Ezra (who he thinks wrote the books of Chronicles) calls the sons of Benjamin by different names, treats his genealogy differently than we have [15] it in the book of Genesis, and finally, indicates most of the cities of the Levites differently than Joshua did, results from the fact that he found the originals inconsistent.⁵¹*

and a bit further on:

That the Genealogy of Gibeon and of others is described twice and differently comes from his having found several different Letters giving each Genealogy, and in copying them out he followed the greatest number of copies; but when [20] the number of inconsistent copies was equal, then he copied both of them.

[41] So saying, he grants, without reservation, that these books were copied out from originals which were neither correct enough nor certain enough. Indeed, this is what usually happens: when the commentators devote themselves to reconciling passages, they don’t do anything more than indicate the causes of the errors. I don’t think anyone of sound [25] judgment believes that the Sacred Historians deliberately wanted to write so that they would seem to contradict one another throughout.

[42] But perhaps someone will say that in this way I overthrow Scripture completely—for in this way everyone can suspect that it is faulty everywhere. But that would be wrong. I have shown that in this way I am consulting the interests of Scripture, to prevent the clear and [30] uncontaminated passages from being accommodated to, and corrupted by, the faulty ones. The fact that some passages are corrupt does not license suspicion of them all. No book has ever been free of error. Has anyone ever, for this reason, suspected faults everywhere? Of course not, especially when the statement is clear, and we see plainly what the author’s intention is.

[43] With this I have finished the things I wanted to mention about [III/150] the history of the Books of the Old Testament. From them we readily infer that before the time of the Maccabees there was no canon of the Sacred Books,⁵²** but that the ones we now have were selected from many others by the Pharisees of the second temple, who also instituted the formulas for prayers, and that these books were accepted only [5] because of their decision.⁵³ [44] So those who want to demonstrate the authority of Holy Scripture are bound to show the authority of each book; proving the divinity of one is not enough to establish the divinity of all. Otherwise we would have to maintain that the council of Pharisees could not have erred in this choice of books, something no one will ever demonstrate.

[10] [45] The reason which compels me to maintain that only the Pharisees chose the books of the Old Testament and placed them in the canon of Sacred texts is that Daniel 12:2 predicts the resurrection of the dead, which the Sadducees denied. The Pharisees themselves reveal this clearly in the Talmud. For in the Treatise on the Sabbath, II, 30b, it is said

[15] אמר רבי יהודה משמיה דרב בקשו חכמים לגנוז ספר קהלת מפני שדבריו סותרין דברי תורה ומפני מה לא גנזוהו מפני שתחילתו דברי תורה וסופו דברי תורה R. Jehuda said in Rav’s name that the wise men tried to hide the book of Ecclesiastes because its words were contrary to the words of the law (NB: to the book of the law of Moses) But why did they not hide it? because it began according to the law [20] and ended according to the law.⁵⁴

[46] And a bit further on:

ואף ספר משלי בקשו לגנוז and they also tried to hide the book of Proverbs etc.

And finally, in the Treatise on the Sabbath I, 13b:

ברם זכור אותו האיש לטוב נחניה בן חזקיה שמו שאלמלא הוא נגנז ספר יחזקאל שהיו [25] דבריו סותרין דברי תורה call him a man, surely, because of his beneficence, he who is called Neghunja, son of Hezekiah; for if it had not been for him, the book of Ezekiel would have been hidden, because its words are contrary to the words of the law.⁵⁵

[47] From these passages it follows clearly that those who were learned in the law summoned a council to determine which books were to be received as sacred and which were to be excluded. So whoever wants to [30] be certain of the authority of all the books should call a council again and require a reason for each one.

[48] Now it would be time to examine the books of the New Testament in the same way. But because I hear that this has been done by men who are most learned both in the sciences and especially in the languages,⁵⁶ because I do not have such an exact knowledge of the Greek language that I might dare to undertake this task,⁵⁷ and finally, because we lack the original texts of the books written in the Hebrew [III/151] language⁵⁸ I prefer to refrain from this difficult business. Nevertheless, I consider that in what follows I indicate the things which contribute most to my plan.

1. Modern editions vary in their treatment of this case, sometimes indicating the omission in the Masoretic text with an ellipsis and a note (as in the NJPS translation), sometimes inserting the missing words in brackets, from the Septuagint (as in HCSB). What Cain said to Abel was “Let us go out to the field.” In this case the lacuna would be quite obvious even without the empty space.

2. Talmudic tradition made Ezra the author of the genealogies of 1 Chronicles “up to his own time” and attributed the rest of Chronicles to Nehemiah. See Baba Bathra 15a. Ezra 7:1–7 identifies Ezra as a scholarly priest, contemporary with Artaxerxes (probably Artaxerxes I, who reigned from 465 to 424), who went up to Jerusalem in the seventh year of Artaxerxes’ reign. Nehemiah was a Jewish official in the service of Artaxerxes, charged in 445 with rebuilding the wall of Jerusalem. Spinoza mistakenly thinks Ezra and Nehemiah were sixth-century figures. See below, n. 3, and ADN. XXIV at x, 27.

3. **[ADN. XXI] This suspicion—if what is certain can, indeed, be called a suspicion—is inferred from the Genealogy of King Jeconiah, which is given in 1 Chronicles 3 from vs. 17, and carried on as far as the sons of Elioenai, who were thirteenth in line from him. It should be noted that when Jeconiah was put in prison, he did not have children, but seems to have fathered children in prison, insofar as we may conjecture from the names he gave them. As for grandchildren, as far as we may again conjecture from their names, he seems to have had them after he was freed from prison. So Pedaiah (which means God has freed), who is said in this chapter to have been [Saint-Glain: the father of Zerubbabel, was born] in the 37th or 38th year of Jeconiah’s captivity, i.e., thirty-three years before Cyrus ended the Babylonian Captivity. Zerubbabel, whom Cyrus put in charge of the Jews, seems thus to have been thirteen or fourteen at most.

But I have preferred to pass over these things in silence, for reasons which the oppressiveness of our times does not permit me to explain. For the wise a hint is enough. Anyone who is willing to carefully review the account of all of Jeconiah’s descendants in 1 Chronicles 3:17–24, and to compare the Hebrew text with the Septuagint version, will be able to see without difficulty that these books were published after the second restoration of the city by Judas Maccabee, at a time when the descendants of Jeconiah had lost the rule, not before.

[At the beginning of the last paragraph Marchand’s version of this note has: “reasons which the injustices and reigning superstition oppressiveness of our times . . .”

Jeconiah (aka Jehoiachin) was the king of Judah who was taken into captivity in Babylon in 597 BCE, and kept under house arrest until he was released by King Evil-merodach thirty-seven years later (see 2 Kings 24:8–12, 25:27–30). Spinoza evidently inferred from Pedaiah’s name that he was born around the time of Jeconiah’s release, and assumed that Pedaiah would not have fathered Zerubbabel before he was around twenty. Spinoza’s calculations assume that the captivity lasted seventy years. (This was based on a tradition going back to Jer. 25:11–12.) Modern research indicates that the captivity was somewhat shorter than that, lasting from 597 to 538.

Spinoza arrived at the count of thirteen generations from Jeconiah to the sons of Elioenai by following the Septuagint translation, which renders verse 21 differently than the Masoretic text. The latter yields only nine generations from Jeconiah to the sons of Elioenai, not thirteen. (Recent English translations—the NRSV and NJPS—also follow the Septuagint.)

There are still puzzles about this note. Why is Spinoza so certain in the note that the books of Chronicles were written after the Maccabean restoration of the temple (i.e., after 164 BCE)? Modern scholars put the date of Chronicles much earlier than that (though not so early as to permit Ezra to have been the author). Anchor Chronicles, I, 101–17, argues for a date in the late fourth or early third century (though it allows that Chron. 3:17–24 may be a late addition to an earlier text).

The solution here seems to be that Spinoza is assuming, not only that twelve generations passed after Jeconiah went into captivity, but also that on average the gap between generations was in excess of thirty-five years. There is precedent for this. Some biblical scholars have assumed as many as forty years per generation. Modern scholars favor an average of twenty-five or even twenty years. (On this see Anchor Chronicles, I, 329–30.)

More difficult is the question why Spinoza thinks the oppressiveness (or injustices and superstition) of his times will not permit him to do more than hint at conclusions he passes over in silence. ALM (followed by Totaro) suggest that perhaps the problem is that the genealogy in Chronicles is inconsistent with that given in Matt. 1:12–16. But reaching this conclusion would not require comparison of the Masoretic text with the Septuagint. The differences between the Masoretic genealogy and that in Matthew are obvious enough. (So for that matter, are the differences between the genealogies in Matthew 1 and Luke 3.) Perhaps more relevant is the fact that Matt. 1:17 claims that only fourteen generations passed between Jeconiah and the Messiah. This would make one of the sons of Elioenai, and not Joseph, the father figure in the household in which Jesus grew up.]

4. Spinoza quotes 1 Chron. 9:2–3, with some omissions. Why does he place Ezra in the time of the first return from Babylon? Partly, it seems, because Ezra is listed at Neh. 12:1 as among those who returned with Zerubbabel. Cf. ADN. XXIV at x, 27. And partly also, it seems, because he took Ezra 7:1 to indicate that the events described in that and succeeding chapters of Ezra happened soon after the sixth-century events described in preceding chapters. (Suggested by Gary Knoppers in personal communication.) Apparently there was confusion in the rabbinic tradition about the chronology of the Persian kings. (Certainly there is confusion about this in Josephus, Antiquities XI, v.)

5. Huet complained in his Demonstratio (207) that it was not clear why Spinoza thought these passages supported his conclusion. Droetto/Giancotti suggest that ADN. XXI is intended to reply in advance to such critics.

6. Cf. ix, 28, where Spinoza comments on the discrepancies between the narratives in Kings and those in Chronicles. The book of wisdom he refers to is the work now known as “The Wisdom of Solomon.” Cf. also xviii, 16, where Spinoza expresses skepticism about the Chronicler's account of a battle.

7. The Talmud ascribed primary authorship of the Psalms to David—though it credited him with also collecting the work of earlier authors, going back as far as Adam, Abraham and Moses (Baba Bathra 14b). Augustine at one time argued that David was the author of all 150 psalms, explaining those which, like 137, seemed to date from a later time as having been written through the gift of prophecy (City of God XVII, xiv). Spinoza’s conclusion here focuses on the final editing and would be generally accepted now (cf. Kugel 2007, ch. 26). Even in Spinoza's own day Huet seems to accept that some of the Psalms date from the post-exilic period (Demonstratio, 226–28).

8. Spinoza refers here to the work he will cite in x, 26, under the title The Book of Times. This is not, as he seems to think, a genuine work of Philo’s, but a forgery by a fifth-century Dominican monk, Annius of Viterbo. For details, see ALM. It’s odd that Spinoza should appeal here to the authority of Philo and the consensus in his time, when he generally attaches little weight to authority or consensus. This seems particularly surprising, since he had better and more characteristic arguments available to him, as the preceding note may suggest.

9. In English translations the verse quoted is Prov. 25:1. The text also ascribes its proverbs to Solomon in 1:1 and 10:1. Huet greeted these ascriptions with glee. At last we find a biblical book which says who its author was (Demonstratio, 234). Modern scholars regard these passages as later editorial additions, and date the earliest of the proverbs to the period of the divided monarchy, with the final stages of composition and editing occurring in the late Persian or Hellenistic period (HCSB 849). Although tradition is often said to have ascribed Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and the Song of Solomon to Solomon, the Talmud ascribes all three works to “Hezekiah and his colleagues,” that is, to the late eighth or early seventh century (Baba Bathra 15a). Manasseh ascribed them to Solomon.

10. For more on the process of canon selection, see below, §§43–47. On the controversy over the canonicity of Proverbs and Ecclesiastes, see Leiman 1976, 72–86. It was objected against both works that their words were self-contradictory, and against Ecclesiastes that its teaching was heretical. One objection to its orthodoxy was that some of its passages seem to deny the immortality of the soul. Cf. Manasseh (1842/1972, II, 312–15) on the prima facie conflict between Eccles. 3:19 and 12:7.

11. The conclusion of Ecclesiastes in particular (12:9–14) is widely thought to be a later interpolation. See Seow 1997, 391–96.

12. Spinoza has already discussed six books which the Jewish tradition counted as books of prophecy: the sequence from Joshua through 2 Kings. Spinoza’s classification reflects his view that these works are more properly classed with the five books of Moses, as part of an extended historical narrative. Cf. viii, 42.

13. See above, ix, 4.

14. For the tradition of Isaiah’s murder by Manasseh, see the Talmud, Yebamoth 49b, Sanhedrin 103b.

The annotation of Baba Bathra 15a, explaining why the Talmud ascribes the book of Isaiah to Hezekiah and his colleagues, reports that “according to Rashi, Isaiah was executed by Manasseh before he could reduce his own prophecies to writing.”

15. Jehoiachin reigned briefly, in the winter of 598–597, after which he was taken into exile in Babylon, and Nebuchadnezzar placed his uncle, Zedekiah, on the throne. He reigned for ten years.

16. It would seem that sixteen chapters intervened between Jer. 21 and Jer. 38.

17. A literal translation of the first phrase in Jer. 38 would read: “And he [Shephatiah] heard” (my emphasis). Modern translations often do not make explicit this connection to preceding material.

18. A literal translation of the first phrase in Ezek. 1 would read: “And it was” or “And it came to pass.”

19. Probably a reference to Ezekiel’s age when he had the vision described in the first chapter (HCSB).

20. In the passage cited from the Antiquities, Josephus is concerned about an apparent contradiction between prophecies in Jeremiah (in 32:2–5 and 34:2–5, which say that the king of Babylon will take Zedekiah in captivity to Babylon) and the prophecy in Ezekiel (12:8–13, which says that Zedekiah will be taken in captivity to Babylon, but will not see that city). According to Josephus, Zedekiah took the fact that these prophecies seemed to conflict in one respect as a reason to disbelieve the prophets altogether, even on the matters where they agreed. Later (in X, viii, 2) Josephus points out that the prophecies were not inconsistent: Nebuchadnezzar did capture Zedekiah and take him to Babylon; but he blinded him first. So though Zedekiah was taken to Babylon as a captive, he never saw the city where he was imprisoned (2 Kings 25:7, Jer. 39:7).

Consistently with his contention that our present book of Ezekiel is only a fragment of the prophet’s writings, Spinoza seems to hypothesize here that Josephus may have had a different (presumably fuller) text of Ezekiel than we do, since he does not find in Ezekiel a prophecy that Zedekiah would not see Babylon, but only the prophecy of 17:16–21, which just says that Zedekiah will be taken as a captive to Babylon.

Spinoza’s hypothesis that Josephus may have had a different text of Ezekiel does not seem necessary to explain why he might have been concerned to remove the apparent contradiction. Josephus does not identify the passages in Jeremiah and Ezekiel which are in prima facie conflict. Apparently when Spinoza looked for a passage in Ezekiel which predicted Zedekiah’s future, he found 17:16–21 (which does not say Zedekiah will not see Babylon), but missed 12:13 (which does).

21. **[ADN. XXII] And so no one could have suspected that [Ezekiel’s] prophecy contradicted Jeremiah’s prediction—as everyone did from Josephus’ account (until they knew from the outcome of the affair that both [prophets] predicted the truth).

22. It’s not clear how Spinoza arrives at 84 years as the minimum length of Hosea’s prophetic career. But that his career must have lasted for at least several decades does seem to be a fair inference from Hosea 1:1, where the editor declares that Hosea prophesied in the reigns of four kings of Judah, the earliest of whom, Uzziah (or Azariah), is now thought to have reigned c. 783–742 B.C.E. and the last of whom, Hezekiah, is thought to have reigned c. 715–687/6 B.C.E. For the reigns of these kings, see 2 Kings 15–18 and the annotation of those chapters in HCSB.

23. The twelve “minor” prophets, whose writings were so short that originally they were all contained on one scroll. This series of prophets, beginning with Hosea and ending with Malachi, concludes the section of the Hebrew Bible devoted to the prophets.

24. For the Talmud, see Baba Bathra 14b–16b; for Maimonides, see his Guide III, 22. Spinoza mentioned the controversy over Job’s historicity earlier, in ii, 55. For a modern discussion of issues about the dating of Job, see Pope’s introduction to Anchor Job.

25. Kugel discusses reasons for holding that Job was a gentile in Kugel 2007, ch. 34.

26. Spinoza’s comment on the style of Job echoes Hobbes’ observation in Leviathan xxxiii, 12.

27. “Chaldean” is one of the terms Spinoza uses to refer to the language now generally referred to as Aramaic, which is the language used in Daniel from 2:4b to the end of ch. 7. The rest of Daniel is in Hebrew. Cf. viii, 25–26. Spinoza also refers to Aramaic as Syriac in ADN. XXVI (at xi, 3).

28. I.e., the book now known simply as Ezra. The book now usually called Nehemiah was called 2 Ezra in the Latin Vulgate. The prevailing view among modern scholars is that the Ezra-Nehemiah sequence was written as a continuation of 1 and 2 Chronicles, by an author whose style and interests were very similar to those of the author of Chronicles (though he was not the author of Chronicles). Both authors are thought to have been Jerusalem clergy of the fourth century BCE (HCSB, 646). Although much of the material in the first six chapters of Daniel is also thought to come from the fourth century, some portions of the last six chapters are now dated to the early second century (HCSB, 1168).

29. Daniel begins by relating events supposed to have happened to young Jewish members of the royal family and nobility during the first years of the Babylonian captivity (c. 597–590). Later chapters pass to events supposed to have happened during the reign of Darius I (or Darius the Great, 522–486), the Persian emperor said in Ezra 6 to have authorized the rebuilding of the temple (c. 520). Ezra begins by describing the return of the exiles to Jerusalem (c. 538) and concludes with Artaxerxes commissioning Ezra to establish pentateuchal law as state law in Judea. The Artaxerxes in question is apparently Artaxerxes I, who reigned from 465 to 424. Like Daniel, Ezra also contains a substantial portion written in Aramaic.

30. A literal translation of the first phrase of Esther would read: “And it was” or: “And it came to pass.”

31. As Rashi (1960) held, on the basis of Esther 9:20.

32. **[ADN. XXIII] The historian himself testifies in 1:1 that most of this book is taken from one Nehemiah himself wrote. But no doubt the historian, who lived after Nehemiah, added the things related from 8[:1]–12:26, as well as the last two verses of ch. 12, which are inserted parenthetically in the words of Nehemiah. [Nearly all of the first seven chapters of Nehemiah are written in the first person, and look as though they may have been taken from Nehemiah’s own account of what he did. Most of the next six chapters are written in the third person, though there are two stretches of text (from 12:27–43 and from 13:4–31) where the editor seems to have inserted passages from Nehemiah’s memoirs (HCSB, 647).]

33. *See Josephus, Antiquities XI, viii. [A reference Spinoza gives in the text is here made a note.]

34. On this work, wrongly attributed to Philo, see above, n. 8 in x, 3.

35. *Unless על [the word translated on in the text] means beyond, there has been a copyist’s error, which has put על, on, in place of עד, until. [The use of the preposition על has puzzled other readers besides Spinoza. Albright suggested reading מעל, from, and Myers follows him. See Myers Ezra-Nehemiah, pp. 194–95, 198–99, and below, n. 36.]

36. **[ADN. XXIV] Ezra was the uncle of the first high priest, Jeshua (see Ezra 7:1 and 1 Chronicles 6:13–15). Together with Zerubbabel he set out from Babylon to Jerusalem (see Nehemiah 12:1). But it seems that when he saw that the affairs of the Jews were in disarray, he returned to Babylon. Others also did this, as is evident from Nehemiah 1:2. He stayed there until the reign of Artaxerxes when, having obtained what he wanted, he set out for Jerusalem a second time. Nehemiah also left for Jerusalem with Zerubbabel in the time of Cyrus. See Ezra 2:2 and 63, and compare with Nehemiah 10:1 and 9. For the interpreters who render התרשתא hatirshata as governor do not prove this by any example, whereas it is certain that new names were given to the Jews who had to frequent the court. So Daniel was called Belteshazzar, Zerubbabel was called Sheshbazzar (see Daniel 1:7, Ezra 1:8 and 5:14), and Nehemiah was called Hatirshata. But by reason of his office he used to be called פחה, administrator or governor. See Nehemiah 5:14 and 12:26. [The Artaxerxes referred to in the fifth sentence is probably Artaxerxes I, who reigned from 465 to 424 B.C.E. Spinoza is apparently unclear about his dates, since he places Ezra and Nehemiah in the sixth century. There is much disagreement in the manuscripts about the scriptural references given in the seventh sentence. I follow Akkerman and Totaro.]

37. The Cyrus referred to here is Cyrus II (or Cyrus the Great), who reigned c. 550–530. Spinoza, following the chronology in Pereira’s Commentariorum in Danielem (Gebhardt V, 71), takes “Darius the Persian” to be Darius III, who reigned from 336 to 330. On the Albright-Myers reading (mentioned above in n. 35), “Darius the Persian” will be Darius I, who reigned from 521 to 486. The reference to Jaddua, however, will still entail that (at least this passage in) Nehemiah was written no earlier than the time of Alexander. Though Totaro does not consider Albright’s emendation, her annotation of this passage is still helpful.

38. For the modern view of the dating of these works, see above, n. 28, at x, 21.

39. Spinoza refers here to the additions to the books of Daniel and Esther, and to the book now most commonly known as 4 Ezra (a portion of 2 Esdras). For discussion of these works, see the section on Apocryphal/Deuterocanonical Books in HCSB.

40. Gebhardt (V, 71) notes that although Manasseh ben Israel acknowledged that 4 Ezra was apocryphal, he thought it constituted evidence that the American Indians were descendants of the lost tribes of Israel. His taking this work seriously thus would make him among the most foolish of the Pharisees.

41. I.e., the canonical Daniel, Ezra, Esther, and Nehemiah.

42. As maintained in the Talmud, Nedarim 37b–38a (Gebhardt V, 71).

43. Cf. Manasseh, 1842/1972, II, 327–28, who adopts a solution advocated as early as Seder Olam (2005, 247). Myers comments that “various attempts have been made to interpret the discrepancies, but none is quite satisfactory” (Anchor Ezra-Nehemiah, 20–21).

44. Cf. Ezra 2:5 with Neh. 7:10 or Ezra 2:35 with Neh. 7:38. These are among the inconsistencies discussed by Manasseh (1842/1972, II, 328–29), who accepted Ibn Ezra’s explanation of the discrepancies, viz. that Nehemiah’s list represents a new count made some years later, by which time the numbers had changed. Though Spinoza does not mention this explanation, a number of the points he makes count against it: that the overall total is the same in each account, that some of the individual figures are larger and some smaller in the supposedly later list, and that Neh. 7:5 gives the impression of an intention to reproduce Ezra’s account.

45. Totaro suggests that Spinoza is probably referring here to the colleagues who are said in Neh. 8:4 to have stood on the platform with Ezra when he read the book of the law to the people.

46. Appuhn and others have suggested that we have here a clear allusion to Manasseh ben Israel’s Conciliator. But seeking such reconciliations was standard procedure for medieval commentators.

47. Another allusion to the line from Terence previously quoted in the final paragraph of the Preface (where Spinoza had applied it to himself).

48. Jer. 22:24–30 prophesies a harsh fate for Jeconiah (Jehoiachin) in Babylon. Verse 22:30 says he will be childless, and that none of his offspring will sit on the throne of David. But 2 Kings 25:27–30 reports that in the thirty-seventh year of his captivity, when Evil-merodach succeeded Nebuchadnezzar, the new king released Jeconiah from prison and treated him kindly. (The closing verses of Jeremiah repeat the closing verses of 2 Kings.) 1 Chron. 3:17–19 reports that he had seven children, and lists as one of his grandchildren Zerubbabel, whom Cyrus appointed to rule in Jerusalem when the Israelites were released from captivity. Cf. ADN. XXI, at III/141.

49. The problem of reconciling this prophecy with history is discussed in the Talmud, Moed Katan 28b, where it is argued that because Zedekiah survived Nebuchadnezzar, he had the satisfaction of outliving the man who had caused his eyes to be gouged out.

50. Rabbi Shlomoh ben Yitzchak (1040–1105), the French commentator better known as Rashi, perhaps the most highly esteemed of the medieval Jewish commentators.

51. *See his commentary on 1 Chronicles 8. [A reference Spinoza gives in the text is here made a note. ALM note that the commentary on Chronicles in Buxtorf’s edition is no longer attributed to Rashi.]

52. **[ADN. XXV] The so-called great Synagogue did not begin until after Asia was conquered by the Macedonians. Moreover, what Maimonides, R. Abraham ben David and others maintain—that those who presided at this council were Ezra, Daniel, Nehemiah, Haggai, Zechariah, etc.—is a ridiculous invention. Its only basis is a rabbinic tradition which teaches that the reign of the Persians lasted 34 years, not more. They do not have any other argument to prove that the decisions of that great Synagogue, or Synod, held only by the Pharisees, were received from the Prophets, who received them from other Prophets, and so on back to Moses, who had received them from God himself, and handed them down to posterity orally, not in writing. Although the Pharisees may, with their usual stubbornness, believe these things, the wise, who know what causes Councils and Synods, and are familiar with the controversies of the Pharisees and Sadducees, have easily been able to guess why that great Synagogue or Council was convened. This is certain: that no Prophets were present at that council, and that the decisions of the Pharisees, which they call traditions, received their authority from the same Council. [On the history of the idea of a “Great Synagogue” in the Jewish tradition, see Daniel Sperber, “The Great Synagogue,” Encyclopaedia Judaica, 2nd ed., ed. Michael Berenbaum and Fred Skolnik (Detroit: Macmillan Reference USA, 2007), 19:383–85. The figure of 34 years for the period of Persian rule (which in fact lasted some 200 years) goes back to Seder Olam. See Stanley Isser, “Chronology,” Encyclopaedia Judaica 4 (2007): 704–7.]

53. Gebhardt (V, 73) notes that Uriel da Costa had also raised the issue of the Pharisees’ role in deciding on the canon, and had in particular questioned the provenance of Daniel. See Gebhardt 1922, 51–52, 59–60.

54. Spinoza returns to an issue first discussed in x, 5. Gebhardt pointed out (V, 73–74) that Spinoza misquotes the Talmud here. The passage should read: “The Sages wished to hide the Book of Ecclesiastes, because its words are self-contradictory; yet why did they not hide it? Because its beginning is religious teaching [Torah] and its end is religious teaching [Torah].” So what the Talmud makes a charge of internal inconsistency in Ecclesiastes Spinoza makes a charge of inconsistency between Ecclesiastes and the Torah. Gebhardt thinks this was a failure of memory. ALM suggest that Spinoza has confused the passage concerning Ecclesiastes with the one concerning Ezekiel cited immediately below. Leiman (1976, 175, n. 322) points out that elsewhere the rabbinic literature indicates other grounds for the withdrawal of Ecclesiastes. Specifically, Leviticus Rabbah says that “The Sages wished to withdraw Ecclesiastes because they found in it matters which smacked of heresy” (28:1).

55. Spinoza discussed this passage previously in ii, 49, where he identified Ezekiel’s contradiction of the law as his denial (18:19–20) that God will punish the son for the transgressions of his father. The annotation of this passage in ALM is helpful.

56. Since Spinoza’s method of interpretation—his demand for a “history of scripture” in the sense defined above in vii, 14–23—is apparently original with him, it seems doubtful that any previous writer would have done the necessary work on the NT in the way he would think it should have been done.

57. ALM point out that Spinoza generally quotes Greek texts (the NT, Josephus, pseudo-Philo) in a Latin or Aramaic translation, and that except in ADN. XXVI he does not give any citations in Greek. It does, however, appear from ADN. XXI that he is able to consult the Septuagint when there is a question about the Hebrew text. Gebhardt notes that in addition to several works he possessed which gave the Greek text along with a Latin translation, he also had some which gave only the Greek text (e.g., Epictetus, Lucian, and Homer), a Greek grammar and two Greek dictionaries.

58. At vii, 64, Spinoza identified the gospel of Matthew and the Epistle to the Hebrews as having been written originally in Hebrew. But it appears from ADN. XXVI, at xi, 3, that Spinoza in fact thought the original language of much, if not all, of the New Testament was what we would now call Aramaic. See the Editorial Preface to the TTP, p. 64.

[III/151] CHAPTER XI

Whether the Apostles wrote their Letters
as Apostles and Prophets, or as Teachers.
On the function of the Apostles¹

[1] No one who has read the New Testament can doubt that the Apostles were Prophets. But the Prophets did not always speak from [10] a revelation. On the contrary, they did that very rarely (as we showed at the end of Chapter 1). So we can raise the question: whether the Apostles wrote their Letters as Prophets—from a revelation and by an express command (as Moses, Jeremiah and the other Prophets did)—or whether they wrote them as private persons, or teachers. This question [15] arises particularly because in 1 Corinthians 14:6 Paul indicates two kinds of preaching, one from revelation, the other from knowledge.² That’s why, I say, we must wonder whether the Apostles prophesy or teach in their Letters.

[2] If we’re willing to attend to the Apostles’ style, we’ll find it most unlike that of Prophecy. The most common practice of the Prophets was to testify everywhere that they were speaking according to God’s [20] edict: thus says God, the God of hosts says, God’s edict etc. And this seems to have held good not only when the Prophets spoke in public assemblies, but also in the Letters containing revelations. This is evident from the Letter Elijah wrote to Jehoram (see 2 Chronicles 21:12), which also begins כה אמר יהוה, thus says God.

[25] [3] In the Letters of the Apostles, on the other hand, we read nothing like this. On the contrary, in 1 Corinthians 7:40 Paul speaks according to his own opinion.³ Indeed, in a great many passages there occur ways of speaking characteristic of a mind undecided and perplexed, as (in Romans 3:28) we think, therefore, [that a person is justified by faith apart from works prescribed by the law] and (in Romans 8:18) for I think,⁴** [that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us] and many [30] other passages in this manner. In addition to these, we find other ways of speaking completely removed from Prophetic authority, e.g., but I say this as one without authority, not as a command (see 1 Corinthians [III/152] 7:6),⁵ I give advice as a man, who, by God’s grace, is trustworthy (see 1 Corinthians 7:25),⁶ and similarly, many other passages. And it should be noted that when he says in the chapter cited that he has or does not have God’s precept or command, he does not mean a precept or command revealed to him by God, but only the teachings Christ imparted to his disciples on the mount.

[5] [4] Moreover, if we attend also to the way the Apostles hand down the Gospel teaching in these Letters, we shall see that it differs greatly from the way of the Prophets. For the Apostles are always reasoning, with the result that they seem to debate, not to prophesy. Prophecies, on the other hand, contain only bare authoritative judgments and [10] decrees, because in them God is introduced as speaking, and he does not reason, but decides in accordance with the absolute sovereignty of his nature, and also because the authority of the Prophet is not subject to reasoning. For whoever would confirm his authoritative judgments by reason thereby submits them to the discretionary judgment of anyone. This Paul seems to have done, because he reasons, saying (1 Corinthians [15] 10:15) I speak as to wise men; judge for yourselves what I say. Finally, [prophecies contain only bare authoritative judgments and decisions] because the Prophets did not perceive the things revealed to them by the power of the natural light. That is, they did not perceive them by reasoning, as we showed in Ch. 1.

[5] In the Pentateuch some conclusions seem to be drawn by inference. [20] But anyone who pays attention will see that they cannot in any way be taken as decisive arguments. When Moses said to the Israelites (Deuteronomy 31:27) if you have been rebels against God while I lived with you, you will be much more rebellious after I am dead, he wasn’t trying to [25] convince them by reason that after his death they would necessarily turn aside from the true worship of God. For that argument would be mistaken, as we could also show from Scripture. The Israelites persevered steadfastly during the lives of Joshua and the Elders,⁷ and afterward also during the lives of Samuel, David, Solomon, etc.

[6] So those words of Moses are only a figurative expression, in which [30] he predicts the future defection of the people rhetorically, as he was able to imagine it more vividly. Why don’t I say that Moses spoke these things on his own authority, to make his prediction probable to the people, and not as a prophet, in accordance with a revelation? Because Deuteronomy 31:21 relates that God revealed this very thing to Moses in other words. It was certainly not necessary to render Moses more [III/153] certain of this prediction and decree of God by probable reasons. But it was necessary that it be represented vividly in his imagination, as we have shown in Ch. 1. There was no way this could be better done than by imagining the present stubbornness of the people, which he had often experienced, as future.

[5] [7] This is the way we must understand all the arguments we find Moses using in the Pentateuch. They’re not taken from the storehouse of reason, but are only ways of speaking he used to express God’s decrees more effectively and imagine them vividly. Nevertheless, I don’t wish to deny absolutely that the Prophets were able to argue from revelation. [10] I only say this: that the more the Prophets argue in due form, the more the knowledge they have of the matter revealed approaches natural knowledge; that their possession of supernatural knowledge is best seen from the fact that they speak simple authoritative judgments, whether decrees, or statements; and thus that the greatest of [15] the Prophets, Moses, did not make any argument in due form. On the other hand, I grant that Paul’s long deductions and arguments, as we find them in his Letter to the Romans, were not in any way written from a supernatural revelation.

[8] So the ways the Apostles both spoke and discussed things in their Letters indicate most clearly that they did not write them from [20] revelation and a divine command, but only from their natural judgment. They contain nothing but brotherly advice, mixed with a politeness which Prophetic authority is completely opposed to—as when Paul excuses himself in Romans 15, v. 15: I have written a bit more boldly to you, brothers.

[25] We can also infer this from the fact that we do not read anywhere that the Apostles were commanded to write, but only to preach wherever they went and to confirm what they said by signs. For their presence and signs were absolutely required for converting the nations to religion and strengthening them in it, as Paul himself explicitly indicates [30] in Romans 1, v. 11: because I long to see you, so that I may impart to you the gift of the Spirit, that you may be strengthened.

[9] But here someone may object that the same reasoning could equally justify the conclusion that the Apostles did not even preach as Prophets. For when they went about preaching, they didn’t do this by an express command, as the Prophets used to. When we read in the Old Testament that Jonah went to Nineveh to preach, we read at the [III/154] same time that he was explicitly sent there, and that it was revealed to him what he had to preach there. Similarly, we’re told in detail that Moses set out for Egypt as God’s representative, and told at the same time what he was required to say to the people of Israel and to King Pharaoh, and what signs he was to perform in their presence, in [5] order to win their trust. Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Ezekiel were expressly ordered to preach to the Israelites. And finally, the Prophets preached nothing which Scripture does not testify that they received from God. [10] But we don’t read anything like this in the New Testament, when the Apostles went about preaching. Or if we do, it’s very rare.⁸ On [10] the other hand, we find some passages which indicate explicitly that the Apostles chose places for preaching according to their own plan. This is illustrated by that well-known disagreement between Paul and Barnabas, which ended in their parting (see Acts 15:37–[40]). Often they also tried in vain to go somewhere, as that same Paul witnesses in Romans 1, v.13: I have wanted to come to you these many times, but I [15] was prevented, and Romans 15, v. 22: because of this I have been hindered many times from coming to you. And finally, 1 Corinthians 16, v. 12: as for my brother, Apollos, I strongly urged him to go to you with the brothers, but he was not at all willing; however, when he has the opportunity etc.

[20] [11] So [the objection continues] from all these things – their ways of speaking, the dispute between the Apostles, and the fact that when they went somewhere to preach, Scripture does not testify (as it does concerning the Prophets of old) that they did so from a command of God—I ought to have concluded that the Apostles preached as teachers, and not as Prophets.

[25] But we’ll settle this question easily if we attend to the difference between the calling of the Apostles and that of the Old Testament Prophets. The latter were not called to preach and prophesy to all nations, but only to certain particular ones. For this they required an explicit and special command for each nation. But the Apostles were [30] called to preach to absolutely everyone and to convert everyone to religion. So wherever they went, they were carrying out Christ’s command and there was no need for them to have the things they were to preach revealed to them before they went—not those disciples of Christ to whom he himself had said: but when they hand you over, do not be anxious about how you are to speak or what you are to say; for what [III/155] you shall say will be given to you in that hour etc. See Matthew 10:19–20.

[12] We conclude, then, that the Apostles had from a special revelation only the things they preached orally, and at the same time confirmed with signs (see what we’ve shown at the beginning of Chapter 2 [§4]). But what they taught simply, without using any signs as witnesses, [5] whether in writing or orally, they spoke or wrote from knowledge (i.e., natural knowledge). On this see 1 Corinthians 14:6.

It’s no objection to this that all the Letters begin with an affirmation of [the writer’s] status as an Apostle.⁹ For as I shall soon show, the Apostles were granted not only the power to prophesy, but also the [10] authority to teach. [13] For this reason we grant that they wrote their Letters as Apostles, and that this was the reason each one began with an affirmation of his being an Apostle. Or perhaps—to reconcile the reader’s heart to them more easily and to get the reader’s attention—they wanted above all to testify that they were the ones who had become [15] known to all the faithful by their preaching and who had then shown by clear testimonies that they taught the true religion and the way to salvation. For whatever discussion I see in these Letters concerning the calling of the Apostles and the Holy and divine Spirit they had, I see to be related to their preachings.

[20] The only exceptions are those passages where the Spirit of God and the Holy Spirit (which we spoke about in Chapter 1 [§§25ff.]) are taken for a sound mind, blessed and devoted to God, etc. For example, in 1 Corinthians 7:40 Paul says: but in my opinion she is blessed if she remains as she is; moreover, I think also that the Spirit of God is in me. By Spirit of God [25] here he means his own mind, as the context of the statement indicates. For he means: I judge a widow who does not wish to marry a second husband blessed; that is according to my opinion, I who have decided to live celibate and who think that I myself am blessed. And we find many other things in this manner, which I judge it superfluous to mention here.

[30] [14] So, since we must maintain that the Apostles composed their Letters only according to the natural light, we must now see how the Apostles could teach, solely on the basis of natural knowledge, things which don’t fall under it. But if we attend to what we’ve said in Chapter 7 about the interpretation of Scripture, there will be no difficulty for us here. For though the things contained in the Bible for the most part [III/156] surpass our grasp, nevertheless we can discuss them safely, provided the only principles we admit are sought from Scripture itself. And in this same way also the Apostles were able to infer and extract many things from the things they’d seen, the things they’d heard, and finally the [5] things they’d had from revelation. They were also able to teach men these things, as they pleased.

[15] Next, although religion, as the Apostles preached it, by relating the simple story of Christ, does not fall under reason, nevertheless, by the natural light everyone can easily appreciate its most important themes, which, like the whole of Christ’s teaching,¹⁰** consist chiefly of [10] moral lessons. Finally, the Apostles did not need a supernatural light to accommodate to men’s common power of understanding the religion they had previously confirmed by signs, so that each one would easily accept it from the heart. Nor did they need it to advise men about that religion.

[15] [16] That’s what the Letters were for: to teach and advise men in the way each Apostle judged best for confirming them in religion. Here we must note what we said a little while ago: that the Apostles received not only the power to preach the story of Christ as Prophets, [20] confirming it with signs, but also the authority to teach and advise in the way each one judged best. In 2 Timothy 1:11 Paul¹¹ indicates each of these gifts clearly: for this [gospel] I have been appointed a preacher and [25] an Apostle and a teacher of the nations. Similarly in 1 Timothy 2, v. 7: for this I have been appointed a preacher and an Apostle (I speak the truth through Christ, I do not lie), a teacher of the nations with faith (NB) and truth. [17] With these words, I say, he clearly indicates a confirmation of each status: being an Apostle and being a teacher.

But he signifies the authority to advise whomever and whenever he wished in these words (Philemon 8): although I have much freedom in [30] Christ to command you to do what is proper, nevertheless, [I prefer to appeal to you on the basis of love]. Here it should be noted that if Paul had received from God, as a Prophet, the things it was proper to command Philemon, and if he was supposed to command them as a Prophet, then surely it would not have been permissible for him to change God’s command into an entreaty. So he must be understood to speak of a freedom to advise, which was his as a Teacher, and not as a Prophet.

[III/157] [18] Nevertheless, unless we want to appeal to the argument that he who has the authority to teach also has the authority to choose the way he wants to teach, it doesn’t yet follow clearly enough that the Apostles could choose the way of teaching each of them judged best, [5] but only that in virtue of their office as Apostles, they were not only Prophets, but also Teachers.

[19] It will be better to demonstrate the whole matter from Scripture alone. For from Paul’s words in Romans 15:20 it is clearly established that each of the Apostles chose his individual way: taking care anxiously that I should not preach where the name of Christ had been invoked, so as [10] not to build on another man’s foundation. [20] Surely if they all had the same way of teaching, and all built the Christian religion on the same foundation, Paul could have no reason to call another Apostle’s foundations another man’s, since they were the same as his. But since he [15] does call them another man’s, we must conclude that each built religion on a different foundation, and that the same thing happened to the Apostles in their teaching as happens to other teachers who have their own individual methods of teaching: they would always rather teach those who are completely uneducated and have not begun to learn languages or sciences from anyone else (or even mathematics, whose [20] truth no one doubts).

[21] Again, if we survey these Letters with some attention, we shall see that in religion itself the Apostles indeed agree, but that they differ greatly in the foundations. For to strengthen men in religion, and to show them that salvation depends only on God’s grace, Paul taught [25] them that no one can boast of his works, but only of his faith, and that no one is justified by works (see Romans 3:27–28). At the same time, he taught the whole doctrine of predestination.¹² James, on the other hand, taught in his letter that man is justified by works and [30] not by faith alone (see James 2:24); setting aside all those arguments of Paul, he expressed in a few words the whole doctrine of religion.

[22] Finally, there is no doubt that the fact that the Apostles built religion on different foundations gave rise to many disputes and schisms, which have tormented the church incessantly from the time of the Apostles to the present day, and will surely continue to torment it [III/158] forever, until at last someday religion is separated from philosophic speculations and reduced to those very few and very simple doctrines Christ taught his followers.

[23] This was impossible for the Apostles, because the Gospel was unfamiliar to men. Lest the novelty of its doctrine greatly offend men’s [5] ears, they accommodated it as much as they could to their contemporaries’ mentality (see 1 Corinthians 9:19–20)¹³ and constructed it on the foundations which were most familiar and accepted at that time. [24] That’s why none of the Apostles philosophized more than Paul, who was called to preach to the nations. But the others, preaching to [10] the Jews, who disdained Philosophy, also accommodated themselves to the mentality of their audience (on this see Galatians 2:11[–14]) and taught a religion devoid of philosophic speculations. How happy our age would surely be now, if we saw religion again free of all superstition!

1. ALM note that in this chapter Spinoza generally relies on Tremellius’s Latin translation of the Aramaic version of the New Testament. (There are some exceptions.) On Tremellius, see the Editorial Preface, p. 64, the title page, p. 65, n. 1, and ADN. XXVI.

2. 1 Cor. 14:6 reads: “Now brothers and sisters, if I come to you speaking in tongues, how will I benefit you unless I speak to you in some revelation or knowledge or prophecy or teaching?”

3. Speaking of the right of a widow to remarry, Paul says that although she is free to do so, “in my judgment she is more blessed if she remains as she is” (NRSV).

4. **[ADN. XXVI] The interpreters of this passage [Rom. 8:18] translate logizomai as concludo, I conclude, and contend that Paul uses it instead of sullogizomai [I conclude] whereas logizomai in Greek means the same as חשב in Hebrew, to calculate, to think, to judge, in which meaning it agrees best with the Syriac text. For the Syriac translation—if indeed it is a translation, which is doubtful, since we don’t know the translator, or when [this text] was circulated, and the native language of the Apostles was Syriac—renders this text of Paul thus: methrahgenan hachil, which Tremellius translates very well: we think, therefore. For the noun formed from this verb, rehgjono, signifies judgment; for rehgjono in Hebrew is רעותא, will; therefore, methrahgenan is we will or we judge. [The editions attach this note to the quote from Rom. 3:28, but since the verb there is plural, whereas that in Rom. 8:18 is singular, attaching it to the latter quote probably accords better with Spinoza’s intention. The Adnotation uses Syriac script for the Syriac words Spinoza uses. I give only the transliteration provided in Gebhardt and Totaro. Spinoza is apparently wrong in thinking that the Syriac version gives the original of the NT. It is now thought to be a 5th Century translation of the Greek text. See Metzger and Ehrman, pp. 98–99. For more on this, see the Editorial Preface, pp. 64–65.]

5. The NRSV renders this text: “This I say by way of concession, not command.” (Paul is recommending that married couples not deprive one another of their conjugal rights.) As ALM note, Spinoza seems to have misread Tremellius’s translation, which has infirmis (suggesting weakness on the part of the Corinthians to whom the recommendation is given) where Spinoza has infirmus (implying a lack of authority on Paul’s part).

6. A fuller quotation, in the NRSV, reads: “Now concerning virgins, I have no command of the Lord, but I give my opinion as one who by the Lord’s mercy is trustworthy.” (Paul thinks virgins would do best to remain as they are, but that they do not sin if they marry.) Gebhardt and Van Vloten-Land wrongly follow the first edition here, reading: quia Dei gratia. ALM correct to: qui a Dei gratia.

7. That is, the Judges who ruled Israel after the death of Joshua.

8. There’s an example in Acts 16:9 (ALM).

9. Not quite true. The letters traditionally ascribed to Paul standardly begin with some such formula as Paul, a servant of Christ, called to be an apostle. Similarly for most of the other letters. But the formula is not universal. Hebrews and the letters of John are exceptions.

10. **[ADN. XXVII] That is, what Jesus taught on the mount and what St. Matthew mentions in chapter 5ff. [This note appears only in Saint-Glain’s translation and seems unlikely to be genuine. See the discussion in ALM, 31.]

11. Although both the letters addressed to Timothy purport to be by Paul, “very few scholars now accept that claim” (HCSB, 2015).

12. E.g., in Rom. 8:28–39, 9:11–29, 11:1–10.

13. “For though I am free with respect to all, I have made myself a slave to all, so that I might win more of them. To the Jews I became as a Jew, in order to win Jews. To those under the law I became as one under the law (though I myself am not under the law) so that I might win those under the law. To those outside the law I became as one outside the law (though I am not free from God’s law but am under Christ’s law) so that I might win those outside the law” (NRSV).

[III/158] CHAPTER XII

On the true original text of the divine Law, Why Scripture can be called Sacred, and Why it can be called the Word of God. Finally it is shown that insofar as it contains the Word of God, it has reached us uncorrupted

[1] Those who consider the Bible, just as it is, as a Letter God has sent men from heaven,¹ will no doubt cry out that I have committed a sin against the Holy Ghost,² because I’ve maintained

that the word of God is faulty, mutilated, corrupted, and inconsistent; [25] that we have only fragments of it, and finally, that the original text of the covenant God made with the Jews has been lost.

[2] But I don’t doubt that if they were willing to weigh the matter carefully, they would immediately stop protesting. For both reason itself and the statements of the Prophets and Apostles clearly proclaim that [30] God’s eternal word and covenant, and true religion, are inscribed by divine agency in men’s hearts, i.e., in the human mind, and that this is the true original text of God, which he himself has stamped with his seal, i.e., with the idea of him, as an image of his divinity.

[III/159] [3] To the first Jews Religion was imparted as a law, handed down in writing, because then they were considered as like infants. But later Moses (Deuteronomy 30:6) and Jeremiah (31:33) proclaimed to them a time to come, when God would inscribe his law in their hearts. So at one time it was appropriate to contend for a law written in tablets [5] (but only for the Jews, and particularly the Sadducees). It is not suitable at all for those who have it written in their minds.

[4] Anyone who’s willing to attend to these things will find nothing in what I’ve said above which is contrary to God’s word, or to true Religion and faith, nor anything which could weaken it. On the contrary, he’ll find that we strengthen it, as we’ve shown also toward the end of [10] Chapter 10 [§42]. If this weren’t the case, I would have decided to be completely silent about these matters. Indeed, to escape all difficulties, I would have gladly conceded that the most profound mysteries are hidden in Scripture. But because that has given rise to an intolerable superstition and to the other ruinously bad consequences we spoke about in the preamble to Chapter 7 [§§1–6], I thought I ought not to [15] refrain from saying these things, especially because religion does not require any superstitious embellishments. On the contrary, its splendor is diminished when it’s adorned with such inventions.

[5] But [my critics] will say that, though the divine law is inscribed in our hearts, Scripture is nonetheless the word of God; so, it’s no more permissible to say that Scripture is mutilated and distorted than it is to [20] say this of the Word of God. I, on the other hand, fear that in their excessive zeal to be holy they may turn Religion into superstition, and indeed, may begin to worship likenesses and images, i.e., paper and ink, in place of the Word of God.

[6] This I know: I’ve said nothing unworthy of Scripture or the word [25] of God. For I’ve maintained nothing which I have not demonstrated to be true by the most evident arguments. And for this reason I can also affirm with certainty that I have said nothing impious, nor anything which smells of impiety.

I confess that certain profane men, to whom religion is a burden, will be able to take what I have said as a license to sin, and without any reason, but only to surrender to their sensual pleasure, infer from this [30] that Scripture is everywhere faulty and falsified, and so of no authority. [7] But there’s no remedy against people like that. As the old adage goes, you can’t say anything so correctly that someone can’t distort it by misinterpretation.³ Anyone who wants to indulge in sensual pleasures can easily find a reason for doing so wherever he likes. Those men long ago who had the original texts, and the ark of the covenant—indeed, the [III/160] Prophets and Apostles themselves—were no better or more obedient. Everyone, Jew and Gentile alike, has always been the same; in every age virtue has been extremely rare.⁴

[8] Nevertheless, to remove every scruple, we must show here in [5] what way Scripture and any other silent thing ought to be called sacred and divine; next, what the word of God really is, and that it isn’t contained in a certain number of books; and finally, that insofar as Scripture teaches the things necessary for obedience and salvation, it couldn’t have been corrupted. From this everyone will easily be able to judge that we’ve said nothing against the word of God, and haven’t [10] given any opening for impiety.

[9] What is called sacred and divine is what is destined for the practice of piety and religion. It will be sacred only so long as men use it in a religious manner. If they cease to be pious, at the same time it too ceases to be sacred. And if they dedicate the same thing [15] to impious purposes, then what before was sacred is made unclean and profane.

[10] For example, the Patriarch Jacob called a certain place בית אל, the house of God [Genesis 28:16–19], because it was there he worshipped the God who had been revealed to him. But the Prophets called that very place בית און, the house of iniquity (see Amos 5:5 and Hosea 10:5), because the Israelites, in accordance with the practice established by [20] Jeroboam [1 Kings 12:27–33], used to sacrifice to idols there.

[11] Here’s another example, which illustrates the point very clearly. Words have a definite meaning only from their use. If they should be so organized that, according to their usage, they move the people reading them to devotion, then those words will be sacred. So will [25] a book written with the words organized that way. But if, afterward, the usage should be lost, so that the words have no meaning, or if the book should be completely neglected, whether from malice or because men no longer need it, then neither the words nor the book will be of any use. They will lose their holiness. Finally, if the same words should be organized in another way, or a usage should prevail according to which they are to be taken in an opposite meaning, then the words and the book which were previously sacred will be unclean [30] and profane.

[12] From this it follows that nothing is sacred or profane or impure in itself, outside the mind, but only in relation to the mind. Many passages in Scripture establish this with utmost clarity. To mention one or two, Jeremiah says (7:4) that the Jews of his time wrongly called the temple of Solomon the temple of God. For as he goes on to say [III/161] in the same chapter, the name of God could be associated with that temple only so long as it was frequented by men who worship God and preserve justice. But if it was frequented by murderers, thieves, idolaters, and other wicked men, then it was rather a den of criminals.

[5] [13] What became of the ark of the covenant? I’ve often wondered at the fact that nowhere does Scripture tell us. This much is certain: it perished, or was burned with the temple,⁵ even though the Hebrews had nothing more sacred, nothing they had greater reverence for. In the same way, also, Scripture is sacred and its statements divine just as [10] long as it moves men to devotion toward God. But if they completely neglect it, as the Jews once did, it’s nothing but paper and ink. They completely profane it, and leave it subject to corruption. So if it’s then corrupted, or perishes, it’s then false to say that the word of God is corrupted or perishes, just as it would also have been false to say in [15] the time of Jeremiah that the temple, which then was the temple of God, perished in flames.

[14] Jeremiah says the same thing about the law itself. For he reproaches the impious people of his time in the following terms: איכה תאמרו חכמים אנחנו ותורת יהוה אתנו הלא לשקר עשה עט שקר סופרים, why do you say, we are wise and the law of God is with us. Certainly it was prepared in [20] vain; in vain did the pen of the scribes write.⁶ That is, even though you have Scripture, you are wrong to say that you have the law of God after you have made it null and void.

[15] Similarly, when Moses broke the first tablets [Exodus 32:19], what he angrily hurled from his hands and broke was not the word of God—who could even think this of Moses and of the word of God?—but only stones. Though previously these stones were sacred, [25] because the covenant was inscribed on them—that covenant by which the Jews had bound themselves to obey God—after they had made that covenant null and void by worshipping the calf, the stones no longer had any holiness. For the same reason, the second tablets⁷ could also perish with the ark.

[16] So it’s no wonder that Moses’ first originals are also not now [30] extant and that the things we described above have happened to the books we do have, when the true original of the divine covenant, the holiest thing of all, could totally perish. Let our critics, then, stop accusing us of impiety. We have said nothing against the word of God and have not debased it. If they have any just anger, let them turn it against those ancients whose wickedness took away the religious status [III/162] of God’s ark, temple, law, and every other sacred thing, and made them liable to corruption.

[17] Again, if, in accordance with what the Apostle says in 2 Corinthians 3:3, they have in themselves the Letter of God, written not in ink, but with the Spirit of God, and not on tablets of stone, but on the fleshly tablets of the heart, let them stop worshipping the letter [5] and being so anxious about it.

With this I think I’ve explained sufficiently in what way Scripture is to be considered Sacred and divine. [18] Now we must see how to rightly understand the expression דבר יהוה, debar Yahweh (the word of Yahweh). דבר, dabar, of course, means word, utterance, edict, and thing. [10] Moreover, in Ch. 1 [§§29–31], we showed why a thing is said in Hebrew to be of God and is referred to God. From these considerations we can easily understand what Scripture means by God’s word, utterance, edict, and thing. So it’s not necessary to repeat all these things here, nor to repeat what we showed regarding miracles, in Ch. 6 [§§39–51]. [19] It will be enough just to call attention to the main points, so that what [15] we want to say about these matters here may be better understood.

[First,] when “the word of God” is predicated of some subject which is not God himself, it means properly the Divine law we treated in Ch. 4, that is, the religion common to the whole human race, or universal religion. On this see Isaiah 1:10, where he teaches the true way of living, [20] which does not consist in ceremonies, but in loving-kindness and a true heart, which he calls, indifferently, God’s law and God’s word.

[20] Secondly, “the word of God” is taken metaphorically for the very order of nature and fate (because it really depends on and follows from the eternal decree of the divine nature), and especially for what the Prophets had foreseen of this order. It has this meaning because [25] they did not perceive future things through natural causes, but as decisions or decrees of God.

[21] Finally, “the word of God” is also taken for every proclamation of a Prophet, insofar as he has perceived it by his own special power, or Prophetic gift, and not by the natural light common [to all]. It has this meaning chiefly because the Prophets were in fact accustomed to [30] perceive God as a lawgiver, as we showed in Ch. 4 [§§38–50].

[22] For these three reasons, then, Scripture is called the word of God: because it teaches the true religion, whose eternal author is God; because it relates predictions of future things as God’s decrees; and, finally, because those who were really its authors mostly taught, not [III/163] by the common natural light, but by a certain special light, and introduced God as speaking these things. And though Scripture contains in addition many things which are merely historical, and are perceived by the natural light, nevertheless it takes its name [“Word of God”] from what is more precious.

[23] From this we easily see why God should be understood to be [5] the author of the Bible: because of the true religion taught in those books, not because he wanted to communicate to men a certain number of books.

[24] And from this we can also know why the Bible is divided into the books of the Old Testament and the New: before the coming of Christ the Prophets were accustomed to preach religion as the [10] law of their Country and by the power of the covenant entered into in the time of Moses; but after the coming of Christ the Apostles preached the same [religion] to everyone as a universal law, solely by the power of the passion of Christ. [The books of the New Testament are] not [new] because they are different in doctrine, or because they were written as original texts of a covenant, or because the universal religion was new. That religion, which is most natural, [15] was new only in relation to those who had not known it. He was in the world, says John the Evangelist (John 1:10), and yet the world did not know him.

[25] So even if we had fewer books than we do, either of the Old Testament or of the New, we would still not be deprived of the word of God, by which we ought to understand the true religion (as we’ve [20] already said)—no more than we think now that we are deprived of God’s word, even though we lack many other most important writings, like the book of the Law, which was guarded scrupulously in the temple as the original text of the covenant, and the books of the Wars, the Chronicles, and many others, from which the books we have of the Old Testament were gathered and assembled. This conclusion is confirmed [25] by many additional arguments.

[26] First, because the books of each Testament weren’t written by an explicit command, at one and the same time, for all ages, but by chance, by certain men, as the time and their particular situation required. This is clearly shown by the callings of the Prophets (who [30] were called to warn the impious people of their time), and also by the Letters of the Apostles.

[27] Second, because it’s one thing to understand Scripture and the mind of the Prophets, and another to understand the mind of God, i.e., the truth of the matter itself. This follows from what we showed in Ch. 2 about the Prophets.⁸ And in Ch. 6 we showed that it also applies [35] to Histories and miracles.⁹ But in no way can we say this about those passages which treat true religion and true virtue.

[III/164] [28] Third, because the Books of the Old Testament were chosen from many [candidates], and in the end, were assembled and approved by a council of Pharisees, as we showed in Ch. 10 [§45]. Moreover, the books of the New Testament too were added to the Canon by the decisions of certain Councils, which also rejected as illegitimate [5] other books many people considered sacred. Now the members of these Councils—both of the Pharisees and of the Christians—were not Prophets, but only Learned and wise men. Nevertheless, it must be conceded that in this choice they had the word of God as a standard. So, before they approved all the books, they must have had knowledge [10] of the word of God.

[29] Fourth, because the Apostles did not write as Prophets, but (as we said in the preceding Chapter) as Learned men, and chose the manner of teaching they judged would be easier for the disciples they wanted to teach at that time, it follows (as we also concluded at the [15] end of that Chapter) that their letters contain many things which we can now do without in the matter of religion.

[30]¹⁰ Fifth, and finally, because there are four evangelists in the New Testament. Who will believe that God wanted to tell Christ’s story four times over, and communicate it to men in writing? It’s true that some things are contained in one gospel which are not there in another, so that [20] one often aids in understanding the other. Still, we should not conclude from that that everything related in these four works was necessary for men to know, and that God chose the evangelists to write their works so that the Story of Christ would be better understood. [31] For each preached his own Gospel in a different place, and each wrote what he [25] preached, simply, to tell the Story of Christ clearly, not to explain the others. If now we sometimes understand them more easily and better by comparing them with one another, that happens by chance and only in a few passages. Even if we knew nothing about those passages, the story would still be equally clear, and men no less blessed.

[32] By these arguments we’ve shown that Scripture is properly called [30] the word of God only in relation to religion, or in relation to the universal divine law. Now it remains to show that, insofar as it is properly so-called, it is not faulty, distorted, or mutilated. But what I here call faulty, distorted and mutilated, is what is written and constructed so incorrectly that the meaning of the statement cannot be worked out [III/165] from linguistic usage or gathered solely from Scripture. [33] For I don’t want to claim that Scripture, insofar as it contains the Divine law, has always preserved the same accents, the same letters and the same words. I leave this to be demonstrated by the Masoretes and those who superstitiously [5] worship the letter. I claim only that the meaning—the only thing in a statement which gives us a reason for calling it divine—has reached us without corruption, even though we may suppose that the words by which it was first signified have very frequently been changed. For as we have said, this does not take anything at all away from the divinity of Scripture. Scripture would be equally divine even if it were written in other words or another language.

[10] [34] So no one can doubt that we have received the divine law without its being corrupted in this way. From Scripture itself we have perceived its most important themes without any difficulty or ambiguity: to love God above all else, and to love your neighbor as yourself.¹¹ But this cannot be forged, nor can it be something written by a hasty or erring pen. For if Scripture ever taught anything other than this, it would also [15] have had to teach everything else differently, since this is the foundation of the whole religion. If it were taken away, the whole structure would collapse in a moment. [35] Such a Scripture would not be the same book we are speaking about here; it would be a totally different [20] book. That Scripture has always taught this, that here no error which could corrupt the meaning has crept in, is indisputable. That would be noticed immediately by everyone; no one could have distorted this without his wickedness being obvious.

[36] Since, then, we must maintain that this foundation is uncorrupted, we must also grant the same about those other [teachings] [25] which uncontroversially follow from it, and are equally fundamental: that God exists; that he provides for all; that he is omnipotent; that in accordance with his decree, things go well with the pious, but badly with the wicked; and that our salvation depends only on his grace. For Scripture everywhere teaches all these things clearly, and must always have taught them. Otherwise all its other teachings would be hollow and without foundation.¹²

[30] [37] The remaining moral precepts must be held to be no less uncorrupted, since they follow with utmost clarity from this universal foundation: to defend justice, to aid the poor, to kill no one, to covet nothing belonging to another, and so on. No man’s wickedness could corrupt any of these things; time could not obliterate them. For if any of these teachings were destroyed, their universal foundation [III/166] would have immediately taught them again, especially the teaching of loving-kindness, which both Testaments commend everywhere, in the strongest terms.

[38] What’s more, though you can’t invent any crime so detestable that no one has ever committed it, still, no one tries to destroy the [5] laws to excuse his own crimes, or to introduce anything impious as an eternal and salutary teaching. For we see that man’s nature is such that anyone who does something shameful, whether he be a King or a subject, is eager to embellish his deed with such circumstances that he is believed not to have done anything contrary to justice or propriety. [10] We conclude, then, without exception, that the whole universal divine law which Scripture teaches, has reached our hands uncorrupted.

[39] In addition to these, there are also other things we can’t doubt have been handed down to us in good faith: the main points of the Historical [15] Narratives in Scripture. These were quite well known to everyone. The common people among the Jews had long been accustomed to sing the past history of their nation in Psalms. Also, the main points of Christ’s deeds and passion were immediately spread throughout the whole Roman Empire.¹³ So it’s not at all credible that later generations handed down the most important part of these narratives in a form different from that [20] in which they had received them from the first generations—not unless most men agreed in this deception, which is incredible.

[40] So whatever has been corrupted or is faulty could have happened only in other matters: for example, in some circumstance of a narrative or a Prophecy, to move the people to greater devotion, or in some miracle, to torment the Philosophers, or, finally, in speculative [25] matters, after schismatics had begun to introduce these into religion, so that everyone might prop up his own inventions by abusing divine authority.¹⁴ But it matters little, for our salvation, whether such things have been perverted or not. I shall show this in detail in the following Chapter, though I think it is already established by what I’ve previously said, especially in Chapter 2.

1. See, for example, Maimonides’ eighth fundamental principle of Judaism, Maimonides Reader, 420–21. Droetto/Giancotti cite Augustine (Exposition 2 of Psalm 30, §2: “The author is the prophet, but more truly the Holy Spirit who spoke through the prophet”) and Gregory the Great (Epistola XXXI, Ad Theodorum medicum, PL 77, 706A: “What is Sacred Scripture if not a letter from God omnipotent to his creature?”).

2. An allusion to Matt. 12:31–32, which says that one who speaks against the Son of Man will be forgiven, but that one who speaks against the Holy Spirit will not.

3. An allusion to Terence’s Phormio 696–97 (ALM).

4. Perhaps alluding to, but if so, moderating, Rom. 3:9–12. Cf. Preface, §14; TP vi, 6.

5. 1 Kings 8:6–8 reports that when the temple was dedicated, the priests placed the ark of the covenant in its inner sanctuary; 2 Chron. 36:15–21 describes the fall of Jerusalem and the burning of the temple (ALM). But Nebuchadnezzar did take some of the treasures of the temple to Babylon.

6. Where Spinoza has הלא, the Masoretic text has אכן הנה. The reference is to Jer. 8:8, whose translation varies widely, both in ancient and in modern versions. For discussion, see Holladay 1986, 281–83.

7. The new tablets whose making is recorded in Exod. 34.

8. See particularly ii, 52–53, for a crisp summary of the conclusions of Ch. ii.

9. See particularly vi, 52–64.

10. Although Spinoza had disavowed any intention of examining the books of the New Testament as he had those of the Old Testament (x, 48), here he does raise critical questions about the gospels: why do we have four different accounts of the life of Jesus? is everything in them necessary for our salvation? if one gospel contains teachings not present in the others, is its teaching essential?

11. Cf. Deut. 6:4–9, 10:12–22; Lev. 19:18; Matt. 22:34–40; Mark 12:28–34; Luke 10:25–28.

12. Cf. vii, 27, and the annotation there.

13. Some Spinoza scholars take this argument for the reliability of the gospel accounts at face value. Cf. Matheron 1971, p. 85. But Spinoza greatly exaggerates the speed with which the story of Jesus spread throughout the Roman empire, and it seems that he ought to have realized, from his knowledge of Josephus and Tacitus, that even late in the first century knowledge of the life and teachings of Jesus was at best sketchy among non-Christians. See Meier 1991, Chh. 3 and 4.

14. On this subject, see Ehrman 1993.

[III/167] CHAPTER XIII

That Scripture teaches only the simplest matters, that it aims only at obedience, and teaches nothing about the divine Nature, except what men can imitate by a certain manner of living

[1] In Ch. 2 of this Treatise we showed that the Prophets had only a special power to imagine things, not a special power to understand them, that God didn’t reveal to them any secrets of Philosophy, but only the simplest matters, and that he accommodated himself to their preconceived opinions.

[10] [2] Next, in Ch. 5 we showed that Scripture imparts and teaches things in the way which enables each person to most easily perceive them. It does not deduce them from axioms and definitions and connect them with one another. It just speaks simply. To create trust it confirms what it says only by experience—that is, by miracles and historical [15] narratives, relating these matters in a style and with expressions most apt to move ordinary people’s hearts. On this see Ch. 6, regarding the things demonstrated under heading 3 [§§39–51].

[3] Finally, in Ch. 7 we showed that the difficulty of understanding Scripture lies only in its language, not in the loftiness of its theme.

To these considerations we may add that the Prophets did not preach [20] to the wise, but to all Jews, without exception, and that the Apostles customarily taught the doctrine of the Gospel in the Churches, places where everyone met.

[4] From all this it follows that the doctrine of Scripture does not contain lofty speculations, or philosophical matters, but only the simplest [25] things, which anyone, no matter how slow, can perceive.¹ I can’t wonder enough at the mentality of the people I spoke about above,² who see in Scripture mysteries so profound that no human language can explain them, and who have then introduced into religion so many matters of philosophic speculation that the Church seems to be an Academy, and Religion, science, or rather, a disputation.

[30] [5] But why should I wonder that men who boast that they have a supernatural light are unwilling to grant superiority in knowledge to Philosophers, who have nothing but the natural light? What would really be wonderful would be if they taught anything new which was a matter of pure speculation, and had not previously been a commonplace [III/168] among the pagan Philosophers—whom they nevertheless say have been blind. If you ask what mysteries they see hidden in Scripture, you will find nothing but the inventions of Aristotle or Plato or someone else like that.³ Often it is easier for any Layman to dream these things up, [5] than it is for a learned man to find them in Scripture.

[6] Of course we don’t want to maintain without qualification that nothing which is a matter of pure speculation pertains to the teaching of Scripture. In the preceding Chapter we cited a number of things of this kind as fundamentals of Scripture [xii, 34–36]. All I maintain is this: there are very few such things, and they’re very simple. [7] Moreover, [10] I’ve resolved to show here which these are and how they are determined. This will be easy for us now that we know that the purpose of Scripture was not to teach the sciences. From this we can easily judge that it requires nothing from men but obedience, and condemns only stubbornness, not ignorance.

[15] [8] Next, obedience to God consists only in the love of your neighbor—for as Paul says in Romans 13:8, he who loves his neighbor in order that he may obey God has fulfilled the Law. From this it follows that the only 'knowledge Scripture commends is that necessary for all men if they are to be able to obey God according to this prescription, [20] and without which men would necessarily be stiff-necked, or at least lacking in the discipline of obedience. It also follows that Scripture does not touch on speculations which do not tend directly to this end, whether they are concerned with the knowledge of God or the knowledge of natural things. So such speculations ought to be separated from revealed Religion.

[25] [9] But even though everyone, as we’ve said, can now easily see these things, still, because the judgment of the whole of Religion depends on this, I want to show the whole matter more carefully and to explain it more clearly. For this it’s necessary to show, before anything else, that the intellectual, or, exact, knowledge of God is not a gift common to all the faithful, as obedience is. Next, we must show that the knowledge [30] God, through the Prophets, has demanded of everyone, without exception, the knowledge everyone is bound to have, is nothing but knowledge of his Divine Justice and Loving-kindness. Both these things are easily demonstrated from Scripture itself.

[10] The first point [that Scripture teaches only a few, very simple truths about the nature of God] follows with utmost clarity from Exodus 6:3, where God says to Moses, to show the special grace he has given [III/169] to him: וארא אל אברהם אל יצחק ואל יעקב באל שדי ושמי יהוה לא נודעתי להם, and I was revealed to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob as El Shaddai, but by my name Yahweh I was not known to them.⁴ To understand this passage better, note that El Shaddai in Hebrew means “God who suffices,” because he gives [5] to each person what suffices for that person. And though Shaddai by itself is often used for “God,” still, there is no doubt that the name El, God, should always be understood.

[11] Next, note that there is no name in Scripture except Yahweh which makes known the absolute essence of God, without relation to created things.⁵ And therefore the Hebrews contend that only this [10] name of God is peculiarly his, the others being common nouns.⁶ [12] And really, the other names of God, whether they are substantives or adjectives, are attributes which belong to God insofar as he is considered in relation to created things or is manifested through them. E.g., אל, El, or (with the paragogic letter ה, he) אלה, Eloah, means nothing [15] but “the powerful,” as we know. And this name belongs to God only in virtue of his excellence, as when we call Paul “the Apostle.” Otherwise the virtues of his power are explained, as El (the powerful one) the great, the awe-inspiring, the just, the merciful, etc., or to refer comprehensively to all his virtues at once, this name is used in the plural number,⁷ with a singular meaning, a very frequent occurrence in Scripture.

[13] Now, since God says to Moses that he was not known to his forefathers by the name Yahweh, it follows that they did not know any attribute of God which explains his absolute essence, but only attributes which explain his effects and promises, i.e., his power, insofar as it is manifested through visible things. [14] But God does not say this to Moses to accuse the patriarchs of lacking faith; on the contrary, his purpose is to praise their trustingness and faith, which led them to believe God’s promises to be valid and lasting, even though they did not have a knowledge of God as special as that of Moses. (Although Moses had more lofty thoughts about God, nevertheless he doubted the divine promises, and complained to God that, instead of the promised deliverance, he had changed the Jews’ affairs for the worse).⁸

[15] Therefore, since the Patriarchs did not know God’s special name, and God tells Moses this fact to praise their simplicity of heart and faith, and at the same time to put on record the special grace granted to Moses, from this our first conclusion follows with utmost clarity: [III/170] men are not obliged by a command to know God’s attributes; this is a special gift granted only to some of the faithful.

To show this by many Scriptural testimonies would not be worth the trouble. [16] Who doesn’t see that knowledge of God was not equal in all the faithful? who doesn’t see that no one can be wise on command, any more than he can live on command, or exist on command? Men, women, children, everyone in fact, is equally able to obey on command. But not everyone is equally able to be wise.

[17] Someone may say: indeed, it’s not necessary to understand God’s attributes, but it’s quite necessary to believe in them, simply, without any demonstration. But anyone who says this is talking nonsense. Invisible things, and those which are the objects only of the mind, can’t be seen by any other eyes than by demonstrations.⁹ Someone who doesn’t have demonstrations doesn’t see anything at all in these things. If they repeat something they’ve heard about them, it no more touches or shows their mind than do the words of a Parrot or an automaton, which speaks without a mind or without meaning.

[15] [18] Before I go any further, I need to show why it’s often said in Genesis that the Patriarchs taught in the name Yahweh, which seems completely contrary to what we just said.¹⁰ If we attend to what we showed in Ch. 8, we’ll easily be able to reconcile these statements. For in that Chapter we showed that the writer of the Pentateuch does [20] not indicate things and places by precisely the same names they had in the time he’s speaking about, but by the names they were better known by in his own time. [19] So the God the Patriarchs taught in Genesis is indicated by the name Yahweh, not because the forefathers knew him by this name, but because the Jews accorded this name the greatest reverence.

[25] We must say this, I maintain, because our passage from Exodus says explicitly that the Patriarchs did not know God by this name, but also because in Exodus 3:13 Moses wants to know God’s name. If it had been known before then, Moses too, at least, would have known it. We [30] must, then, draw the conclusions we were arguing for: that the faithful Patriarchs did not know this name of God, and that the knowledge of God was a gift of God, not a command.

[20] It’s time now to pass to the second point, to show that God through the Prophets asks no other knowledge of himself from men than the knowledge of his divine Justice and Loving-kindness, i.e., such attributes of God as men can imitate in a certain way of life. Jeremiah [III/171] teaches this most explicitly. [21] For in 22:15[–16], speaking of King Josiah, he says, אביך הלא אכל ושתה ועשה משפט וצדקה בארץ אז טוב לו דן דין עני ואביון אז טוב לו הלא היא הדעת אותי נאם יהוה וגו,¹¹ Your father, indeed, ate, [5] and drank, and passed judgment, and did justice, and then (it was) well with him; he judged the right of the poor and the needy, and then (it was) well with him; for (NB) this is to know me, said Yahweh.

No less clear is the passage in 9:23:¹² אך בזאת יתהלל המתהלל השכל וידוע אותי כי אני יהוה עשה חסד משפט וצדקה בארץ כי באלה חפצתי נאם יהוה, let each [10] one glory only in this, that he understands me and knows me, that I Yahweh practice loving-kindness, judgment and justice on the earth, for I delight in these things, says Yahweh.

[22] We infer this also from Exodus 34:6–7. There, when Moses wants to see and to come to know him, God reveals only those attributes which display divine Justice and Loving-kindness.

[15] Finally, we should note especially that passage in John which we’ll discuss later,¹³ where, because no one has seen God, he explains God only through loving-kindness, and concludes that whoever has loving-kindness really has and knows God.

[23] We see, then, that Jeremiah, Moses and John sum up the knowledge of God each person is bound to have by locating it only (as we [20] maintained) in this: that God is supremely just and supremely merciful, or, that he is the unique model of the true life.

[24] To this we may add that Scripture does not give explicitly any definition of God, does not prescribe embracing any other attributes of God beyond those just mentioned, and does not explicitly commend [25] any as it does these. From all this we conclude that the intellectual knowledge of God, which considers his nature as it is in itself (a nature men cannot imitate by any particular way of life and cannot take as a model for instituting the true way of life), does not in any way pertain [30] to faith or to revealed religion. So men can be completely mistaken about this without wickedness.

[25] It’s not at all surprising, then, that God accommodated himself to the imaginations and preconceived opinions of the Prophets, and that (as we showed in Ch. 2 with many examples) the faithful have cultivated different opinions about God.

[26] Again, it’s not at all surprising that the Sacred books everywhere [III/172] speak so improperly about God, and attribute to him hands, feet, eyes, ears, a mind, and local motion, as well as emotions, like Jealousy, compassion, etc., or that they depict him as a Judge, and as sitting in the heavens on a royal throne, with Christ at his right hand. They speak [5] according to the power of understanding of the common people, whom Scripture is concerned to make obedient, not learned.

[27] Nevertheless, the general run of Theologians have contended that if they could see by the natural light that any of these things did not agree with the divine nature, they would have to be interpreted metaphorically (whereas what escaped their grasp must be taken literally). [10] But if everything in Scripture which is found to be of this kind necessarily had to be interpreted and understood metaphorically, Scripture would be written not for ordinary people—and the uneducated common people—but only for the wisest, and especially for Philosophers.

[28] Indeed, if it were impious to believe about God the things we have just mentioned—piously and with simplicity of heart—the [15] Prophets would surely have been obliged to take the greatest care not to use such expressions, if only out of consideration for the weakness of the common people. On the contrary, they would have, above all, to teach, clearly and explicitly, God’s attributes, as each person is bound to accept them. In fact they haven’t done this anywhere.

[29] So we must not for a moment believe that opinions, considered [20] in themselves and without regard to works, have any piety or impiety in them. Instead we should say that a person believes something piously only insofar as his opinions move him to obedience, and impiously only insofar as he takes a license from them to sin or rebel. So, if anyone becomes stiff-necked by believing truths, he is really impious; on the other hand, if he becomes obedient by believing falsehoods, he has a [25] pious faith. For we have shown that the true knowledge of God is not a command, but a divine gift, and that God asks of man no other knowledge [of himself] than knowledge of his divine Justice and Loving-kindness. This knowledge is not necessary for the sciences, but only for obedience.¹⁴

1. ALM note the similarity here between Spinoza and Hobbes, Leviathan viii, 26. The issue there is the interpretation of passages in Scripture which seem, on a literal reading, to oppose Copernican astronomy. See also Galileo’s Letter to the Grand Duchess Christina, in Finocchiaro 1989.

2. See, for example, the Preface, §§15–19, or ix, 33–34.

3. Cf. Manasseh’s commentary on the creation story of Genesis (1842/1972, I, 1–26), which is heavily influenced by Neoplatonic ideas. Note particularly that Manasseh justifies interpreting Mosaic theology in Platonic terms by accepting the theory that Plato had a better knowledge of Mosaic theology than Aristotle did because he had been a disciple of the Jewish elders (I, 8). As late as the nineteenth century Lindo will accept as probable that Plato received instruction from Jeremiah. ALM suggest that Spinoza may also have been thinking of Leo Hebraeus’s Dialogues of Love, a work which was in his library.

4. In English translations of the Hebrew Bible “El Shaddai” is commonly rendered “God Almighty.” Genesis does in fact represent all three of the patriarchs as using the name “Yahweh.” See, for example, Gen. 12:8, 15:2, 24:3, 26:22, 27:7, 28:13, 32:10, and 49:1–28. Modern scholarship takes the inconsistency of these passages with Exodus 6:3 as an important indication that they reflect different traditions. Cf. Anchor Genesis, xxii–xliii. Spinoza will offer a different explanation in §§18–19.

5. Cf. the discussion of the divine name in ii, 36, where Spinoza takes Exod. 3:13–15 as his text. Ashkenazi, 25n, suggests that Ibn Ezra’s commentary on Exodus 3:15 may be the most direct source of what Spinoza says here. Manasseh 1842/1972, I, 103–11, provides a useful survey of medieval Jewish commentary on this topic, citing particularly Halevi 1964, II, 2, and Maimonides Guide I, 61–63. See also the discussion of this passage in Zac 1965, 79–84.

6. See Spinoza’s classification of the different kinds of noun in ch. 5 of his Compendium of Hebrew Grammar. Spinoza uses the term “noun” (nomen) quite broadly, classing as nouns “any word by which we signify or indicate something which falls under the intellect” (Gebhardt I, 303). This category includes not only “substantive nouns” (our proper and common nouns), but also adjectives, adverbs, prepositions, participles, and infinitives.

7. A reference to the term Elohim, which is plural in number, but only sometimes plural in meaning, sometimes being used as a proper name for God.

8. The reference seems to be to Exod. 5:22–23.

9. Cf. E V P23S. The metaphor is also found in Leo Hebraeus, Dialogues on Love, 3rd Dialogue (ALM).

10. The prima facie inconsistency between Exod. 6:3 and passages like Gen. 15:7 was a traditional problem in Jewish biblical commentary, discussed by Manasseh 1842/1972, I, 55–56. See also xiii, 10.

11. The Hebrew text reproduced here (and in the first edition, Gebhardt, and ALM) contains two variations from the Masoretic Text.

12. Verse 9:24 in some Bibles. The Hebrew follows the first edition and ALM, which vary from MT and Gebhardt.

13. The reference is to 1 John 4:12–16, used as a motto on the title page of the TTP, and discussed in xiv, 17.

14. In Colerus’s biography of Spinoza there is an anecdote about a conversation he had with his landlady which has seemed to many apt here: “One day his landlady asked him whether he believed that she could be saved in the religion she professed. He answered: ‘Your religion is a good one, you need not look for any other, nor doubt that you may be saved in it, provided, whilst you apply yourself to piety, you live at the same time a peaceable and quiet life.’” Colerus 1706, 41. Spinoza’s landlady was a Lutheran. For an illuminating discussion of this incident, see Cook 1995.

[III/173] CHAPTER XIV

What is faith, who are the faithful, what the foundations of faith are, and finally, that it is separated from Philosophy

[1] For a true knowledge of faith the chief thing to know is that Scripture [5] is accommodated to the grasp, not only of the Prophets, but also of the fluctuating and inconstant common people of the Jews. No one who pays even a little attention can fail to know that. Anyone who indiscriminately accepts everything contained in Scripture as its universal and unconditional teaching about God, and doesn’t know accurately what [10] has been accommodated to the grasp of the common people, will be unable not to confuse the opinions of the common people with divine doctrine, hawk human inventions and fancies as divine teachings, and abuse the authority of Scripture.

[2] Who doesn’t see that this is the principal reason why the sectaries [15] teach as doctrines of the faith so many and such contrary opinions, and confirm them by many examples from Scripture? That's why it long ago became a Proverb among the Dutch that geen ketter zonder letter [There is no heretic without a text.] For the Sacred Books were written not by one person only, nor for the common people of one age, but by many men, of different mentalities, and of different ages. [20] If we calculate how long these ages lasted, we will find it to be about two thousand years—possibly much longer.

[3] Still, we don’t want to accuse the sectaries of impiety just because they accommodate the words of Scripture to their own opinions. For as Scripture was accommodated to the grasp of the common people, so everyone is permitted to accommodate it to his own opinions, if he [25] sees that in that way he can obey God more wholeheartedly in matters of justice and loving-kindness. [4] We do censure them, though, for being unwilling to grant this same freedom to others, and for persecuting, as God’s enemies, everyone who does not think as they do, even though they are very honest and obedient to true virtue. On the other [30] hand, they still love, as God’s elect, those who give lip service to these opinions, even if they are most weak-minded. Nothing more wicked or harmful to the republic can be imagined.

[5] To establish, then, how far each person has the freedom to think [III/174] what he wishes with respect to faith, and whom we are bound to consider faithful, even though they think differently, we must determine what faith and its fundamentals are. I’ve resolved to do that in this Chapter, and at the same time to separate faith from Philosophy, which was the [5] main purpose of this whole work. To show these things in an orderly way, let’s review the chief purpose of the whole of Scripture. That will show us the true standard for determining what faith is.

[6] We said in the preceding Chapter that the purpose of Scripture is only to teach obedience. No one can deny this. Who does not see [10] that each Testament is nothing but a training in obedience, and that neither Testament has any other aim than that men should obey from a true heart? [7] Not to mention now what I showed in the preceding Chapter [§§1–6], Moses did not try to convince the Israelites by reason, but was concerned only to bind them by a covenant, oaths [15] and benefits. Next, he threatened the people with punishment if they did not obey the laws and urged them to obedience with rewards. All these are means only to obedience, not 'knowledge. [8] As for the teaching of the Gospel, it contains nothing but simple faith: to trust in God, and to revere him, or (what is the same thing), to obey [20] him.¹ To demonstrate a matter so obvious, I don’t need to heap up Scriptural texts which commend obedience. There are a great many in each Testament.²

[9] Next, Scripture also teaches, very clearly and in many places, what each person must do to obey God. The whole law consists only in this: [25] loving one’s neighbor. So no one can deny that one who, according to God’s command, loves his neighbor as himself is really obedient, and according to the law, blessed. But one who hates or fails to care for his neighbor is a stiff-necked rebel.

[10] Finally, everyone agrees that Scripture was written and published, [30] not only for the learned, but for all people, of every age and kind.³ From these [three]⁴ considerations alone it follows very clearly that the only beliefs we are bound by Scriptural command to have are those which are absolutely necessary to carry out this command. So this command itself is the unique standard of the whole universal faith. Only through it are we to determine all the doctrines of that faith, the beliefs everyone is bound to accept.

[III/175] [11] Since this is very plain, and since everything can be deduced legitimately from this foundation alone, by reason alone, everyone may judge for himself how so many disagreements could have arisen in the Church. Could they have had other causes than the ones we mentioned [5] at the beginning of Ch. 7?

[12] These very disagreements, then, force me to show here how to determine the doctrines of the faith from the foundation we’ve discovered. Unless I do this, and determine the matter by definite rules, people will rightly think I’ve done little to advance the discussion. Everyone will be able to introduce whatever he wishes, on the pretext [10] that it’s necessary as a means to obedience. This will be especially true when the question concerns the divine attributes.

[13] To show all this in an orderly way, I’ll begin with a definition of faith. According to the foundation we’ve given, faith must be defined as follows:

[Faith is] thinking such things about God that if you had no knowledge of them, obedience to God would be destroyed, whereas if you are [15] obedient to God, you necessarily have these thoughts.⁵

This definition is so clear, and follows so plainly from the things just demonstrated, that it needs no explanation. [14] Now I’ll briefly show what follows from it:

I. Faith is not saving by itself, but only in relation to obedience.

[20] Or as James says (James 2:17), faith by itself, without works, is dead. On this, see the whole second chapter of this Apostle’s letter. It follows that

II. If someone is truly obedient, he must have a true and saving faith.

[15] For as we’ve said, if obedience is present, faith is also necessarily present. The same Apostle also says this explicitly in 2:18, viz.: show [25] me your faith without works and I shall show you my faith from my works. And John says (in 1 John 4:7–8): whoever loves (i.e., loves his neighbor) is born of God and knows God; whoever does not love does not know God, for God is Loving-kindness. [16] From these things it follows next that

III. We can judge no one faithful or unfaithful except from their works.

[30] If the works are good, they are still faithful, however much they may disagree with other faithful people in their doctrines. Conversely, if the works are bad, they are unfaithful, however much they may agree in words with other faithful people. For where there is obedience, there faith is also, and faith without works is dead.⁶

[17] John teaches the same thing explicitly in v. 13 of the same chapter: by this, he says, we know that we remain in him and that he [III/176] remains in us, because he has given us of his spirit,⁷ viz. Loving-kindness. For he had said previously that God is Loving-kindness, from which (according to his principles, accepted at that time) he infers that he who has Loving-kindness really has the Spirit of God. Indeed, because no one has seen God, he infers from that that no one is aware of God, [5] or acknowledges God, except by Loving-kindness toward his neighbor, and that in fact no one can come to know any other attribute of God beyond this Loving-kindness, insofar as we participate in it.

[18] If these arguments are not decisive,⁸ still they explain John’s intention clearly enough. But much clearer is 1 John 2:3–4, where he [10] teaches in the most explicit terms what we maintain here. And by this, he says, we know that we know him, if we keep his commandments. Whoever says he knows him and does not keep his commandments, is a liar, and the truth is not in him. From these propositions it follows next that [19]

IV. the real Antichrists are those who persecute honest men who love Justice, [15] because they disagree with them, and do not defend the same doctrines of faith they do.

For we know that loving Justice and Loving-kindness are enough to make a man faithful; and whoever persecutes the faithful is an Antichrist.

[20] Finally, it follows that

V. faith requires, not so much true doctrines, as pious doctrines, i.e., doctrines [20] which move the heart to obedience, even if many of them do not have even a shadow of the truth.

This is true provided the person who accepts them does not know they are false. If he did, he would necessarily be a rebel. For how could someone who is eager to love Justice and to obey God worship as divine something he knows to be foreign to the divine nature? [21] But men [25] can err from simplicity of heart; and as we have shown, Scripture does not condemn ignorance; it condemns only stubbornness.

Indeed, this must follow just from the definition of faith, all of whose elements must be sought from the universal foundation already shown and from the single purpose of the whole of Scripture—unless we want to mix in our own fancies. This definition does not explicitly require [30] true doctrines, but only such doctrines as are necessary for obedience, which strengthen our hearts in love toward our neighbors. It is only because of this love that each of us (to speak with John) is in God and that God is in each of us.⁹

[22] The faith of each person should be considered pious or impious only on account of his obedience or stubbornness, not on account of its truth or falsity. No one doubts that the common mentality of men [III/177] is extremely variable, and that not everyone is equally satisfied by all things. Opinions govern men in different ways: those which move one person to devotion, move another to laughter and contempt.

From this it follows that no doctrines belong to the catholic, or [5] universal, faith which can be controversial among honest men. [23] Since doctrines must be judged only by the works [they encourage], controversial doctrines can be pious in relation to one person and impious in relation to another. Only those doctrines belong to the catholic faith, then, which obedience to God absolutely assumes, and [10] ignorance of which makes obedience absolutely impossible.¹⁰ As for the rest, since each person knows himself better [than anyone else does], he must think as he sees will be better for him, to strengthen himself in his love of Justice. [24] In this way, I think, no room is left for controversies in the Church.

Now I shall not hesitate to enumerate the doctrines of the universal [15] faith, or the fundamental principles aimed at by the whole of Scripture, all of which (as follows with utmost clarity from what we have shown in these two Chapters)¹¹ must tend to this point: that there is a supreme being, who loves Justice and Loving-kindness, and whom everyone, if he is to be saved, is bound to obey and to worship by practicing Justice and Loving-kindness toward his neighbor. From this it is easy to [20] determine what the doctrines are. They are just these:

[25] I. God exists, i.e., there is a supreme being, supremely just and merciful, or a model of true life. Anyone who doesn’t know, or doesn’t believe, that God exists cannot obey him or know him as a Judge.

II. He is unique. No one can doubt that this too is absolutely required for [25] supreme devotion, admiration and love toward God. For devotion, admiration and love arise only because the excellence of one surpasses that of the rest.

[26] III. He is present everywhere, or everything is open to him. If people believed some things were hidden from him, or did not know that he sees all, they would have doubts about the equity of the Justice by which he directs all things—or at least they would not be aware of it.

[30] IV. He has the supreme right and dominion over all things, and does nothing because he is compelled by a law,¹² but acts only according to his absolute good pleasure and special grace. For everyone is absolutely bound to obey him, whereas he is not bound to obey anyone.

[27] V. The worship of God and obedience to him consist only in Justice and Loving-kindness, or in love toward one’s neighbor;

[III/178] VI. Everyone who obeys God by living in this way is saved; the rest, who live under the control of pleasures, are lost. If men did not firmly believe this, there would be no reason why they should prefer to obey God rather than pleasures; and

[5] [28] VII. Finally, God pardons the sins of those who repent. No one is without sin.¹³ So if we did not maintain this, everyone would despair of his salvation, and there would be no reason why anyone would believe God to be merciful. Moreover, whoever firmly believes that God, out of mercy and the grace by which he directs everything, pardons men’s sins, and who for this reason is more inspired by the love of God, that person really knows [10] Christ according to the Spirit, and Christ is in him.

[29] No one can fail to be aware that it is especially necessary to know all these things for men to be able, without exception, to obey God according to the command of the Law explained above. If any of these doctrines is taken away, obedience also is destroyed.

[30] As for the rest, it doesn’t matter, as far as faith is concerned, [what anyone believes about such matters as]:

[15] [i] what God (or that model of true life) is, whether he is fire, spirit, light, thought, etc., or

[ii] how he is a model of true life, whether because he has a just and merciful heart, or because all things exist and act through him (and hence that we too understand through him, and see through him, what is truly right, and good).

[20] It’s all the same, whatever each person maintains about these things.

[31] Again, it also doesn’t matter, as far as faith is concerned, if someone believes

[iii] that God is everywhere according to his essence or according to his power, or

[iv] that he directs things from freedom or by a necessity of nature, or

[v] that he prescribes laws as a prince or teaches them as eternal truths, or

[25] [vi] that man obeys God from freedom of the will or from the necessity of the divine decree, or finally,

[vii] that the reward of the good and punishment of the evil are natural or supernatural.

[32] It doesn’t matter, I say, as far as faith is concerned, how each person understands these and similar things, provided he doesn’t conclude that he may take a greater license to sin, or that he should become [30] less obedient to God. In fact, as we’ve already said, each person is bound to accommodate these doctrines of faith to his own power of understanding, and to interpret them for himself, as it seems to him easier for him to accept them without any hesitation, with complete agreement of the heart, so that he may obey God wholeheartedly. [33] For as we’ve already noted, the faith was originally revealed and written [III/179] according to the grasp and opinions of the Prophets, and of the common people of that time. In the same way, everyone now is bound to accommodate it to his own opinions, so that he can accept it without any mental conflict and without any hesitation. For we’ve shown that [5] faith requires piety more than it does truth, and that it’s pious and saving only because of the person’s obedience. So no one is faithful except by reason of obedience. The person who displays the best arguments is not necessarily the one who displays the best faith; instead it’s the one who displays the best works of Justice and Loving-kindness.

[10] [34] How salutary this Doctrine is, how necessary in the republic, if people are to live peacefully and harmoniously, how many, and how great, are the causes of disturbance and wickedness it prevents—these things I leave everyone to judge for himself.

[35] But before I go any further, we should note here that from what we’ve just shown we can easily reply to the objections raised in Ch. 1 [15] [§§13–18], when we discussed God’s speaking to the Israelites from Mt. Sinai. [36] Though the voice the Israelites heard could not give them any philosophical or mathematical certainty about God’s existence, still, it was enough to make them wonder at God, insofar as they had previously known him, and to motivate them to obedience. That was the [20] purpose of that manifestation. God did not want to teach the Israelites the absolute attributes of his essence. (He did not reveal any of them at that time.) He wanted to break their stubborn heart and win them over to obedience. So he addressed them with the sound of trumpets, with [25] thunder, and with lightning, not with arguments. See Exodus 20:[18–21].¹⁴

[37] What remains now is for me to show, finally, that there are no dealings, or no relationship, between faith, or Theology, and Philosophy. No one can fail to see this now, who knows that these two faculties aim at, and are based on, completely different things. [38] For the goal [30] of Philosophy is nothing but truth. But the goal of Faith, as we’ve shown abundantly, is nothing but obedience and piety. Furthermore, the foundations of Philosophy are common notions, and [its truth] must be sought only from nature. But the foundations of Faith are histories and language, and [those foundations] must be sought only from Scripture and revelation, as we showed in Ch. 7.

[39] Faith, therefore, grants everyone the greatest freedom to philosophize, [III/180] so that without wickedness he can think whatever he wishes about anything. Faith condemns as heretics and schismatics only those who teach opinions which encourage obstinacy, hatred, quarrels and anger. On the other hand, it considers faithful only those who encourage [5] Justice and Loving-kindness as far as the powers of their reason and their faculties permit.

[40] Finally, since the things we have shown here are the main points I have been aiming at in this treatise, before I go any further I want to ask the reader most earnestly to take the time to read these two Chapters quite carefully, to weigh them again and again, and to be [10] persuaded that we did not write them with the intention of introducing any novelties, but only to correct distortions, which we hope someday, finally, to see corrected.¹⁵

1. Note that in the TTP Spinoza never cites any of those passages from John which provide a foundation in the gospels for Christian exclusivism by seeming to make acceptance of theological propositions about Jesus the path to salvation, such as John 3:16–18, 3:36, 11:25–26, 14:6, or 20:31. Cf. his account of Paul’s teaching in xi, 21.

2. Cf. above xii, 34, and the passages cited in the note there. See also below, xix, 4.

3. Cf. above xiii, 16.

4. That is, the considerations adduced in §§6–8 (that the only purpose of Scripture is to teach obedience), §9 (that obedience requires only the love of one’s neighbor), and §10 (that the commands of Scripture are directed to everyone).

5. Dan Garber, commenting on an earlier draft of this passage, suggested that quibus ignoratis, here translated “if you had no knowledge of them,” should be rendered “if the person disregards them.” This is possible linguistically, but I think xiv, 20–23, indicates that it is a question, not of failing to take note of what you know, or failing to act on what you know, but of not knowing (in a broad sense of “know,” where the bar for knowledge is not set high).

6. Spinoza’s use of 1 John to support his reduction of faith to obedience apparently aligns the author of this epistle with James rather than Paul in the dispute over justification described in xi, 21–24. If the author of this epistle was also the author of the fourth gospel, and if the author of the fourth gospel is properly aligned with Paul rather than James, Spinoza’s alignment will be puzzling. This may be a reason for questioning the traditional ascription of the epistle to the author of the fourth gospel. (There are other reasons, as Brown 1997, 389–91, explains.)

7. 1 John 4:13, Spinoza’s motto for the TTP. Cf. the title page.

8. Bennett described the argument of §17 as “convoluted.” It does appear that Spinoza is not entirely confident that his reasoning is clear and compelling.

9. Alluding again to 1 John 4:13.

10. Bennett notes that here Spinoza seems to take the relevant beliefs to be both necessary and sufficient for obedience, and to think that his definition in xiv, 13, says as much. He objects that it doesn’t (since the second clause of the definition is the contrapositive of the first, not its converse). Spinoza’s use of 1 John 2:3–4 suggests that he does indeed intend to assert a biconditional; xiv, 29, seems particularly clear that the beliefs are necessary for obedience. That they should also be sufficient for obedience, though, seems inconsistent with Spinoza’s teaching in the Ethics concerning weakness of will. Cf. E IV P17S.

11. That is, as I take it, from what has been shown in Chs. xii and xiii.

12. That is (as Matheron suggests in ALM), by a law someone else imposes on him.

13. ALM mention Eccles. 7:20, previously cited in iii, 38. We might add John 8:7 or Rom. 3:9–20. But Spinoza’s reading of Eccles. 7:20 seems less bleak than Paul’s, whose paraphrase of Eccles. in Rom. 3:10 (possibly influenced by the Septuagint translation) is quite harsh. See iii, 38, and TP, ii, 8.

14. Spinoza has Exod. 20:20, but the reference is clearly to the verses numbered 18–21 in the NRSV (and 15–18 in the NJPS translation).

15. In the TTP Spinoza pursues two lines of argument to show that we should be free to philosophize: one via considerations about the nature of religion and the nature of philosophy, the other via considerations about the state. Chs. xiii and xiv represent the culmination of the first of these lines of argument.

[III/180] CHAPTER XV

Showing that Theology should not be the handmaid of Reason, nor Reason the handmaid of Theology, and the reason which persuades us of the authority of Holy Scripture

[1] Those who don’t know how to separate Philosophy from Theology debate whether Scripture should be the handmaid of reason, or reason should be the handmaid of Scripture—that is, whether the meaning of [20] Scripture ought to be accommodated to reason, or reason ought to be accommodated to Scripture. The skeptics, who deny the certainty of reason, defend the accommodation of reason to Scripture. The dogmatists defend the accommodation of Scripture to reason.

[2] But what we’ve already said shows that both parties are completely mistaken. Whichever opinion we follow, we must corrupt either reason or Scripture. We’ve shown that Scripture does not teach philosophic [25] matters, but only religious duty, and that everything contained in it was accommodated to the grasp and preconceived opinions of the common people. [3] So those who want to accommodate it to Philosophy ascribe to the Prophets many things they did not think of even in their dreams, and interpret their meaning wrongly. On the other hand, those who [30] make reason and Philosophy the handmaid of Theology are bound to admit as divine teachings the prejudices of the common people of long ago, to fill their minds with those prejudices, and to blind themselves. Each is insane, the former with reason, the latter without it.¹

[4] The first person among the Pharisees who openly maintained that [III/181] Scripture must be accommodated to reason was Maimonides, whose opinion we reviewed in Ch. 7, and refuted by many arguments. Though this author had great authority among [the Pharisees], nevertheless most of them part from him in this matter, and follow the opinion of [5] a certain R. Judah Alfakhar,² who, in his desire to avoid Maimonides’ error, fell into the opposite mistake.

[5] Alfakhar maintained³* that reason should be the handmaid of Scripture and should be made completely subordinate to it. He did not think that anything in Scripture should be explained metaphorically merely because the literal meaning was contrary to reason, but only [10] because it was contrary to Scripture itself, i.e., to its clear doctrines. From this he forms a universal rule: whatever Scripture teaches as doctrine,⁴** and affirms in explicit terms, must be admitted unconditionally as true, simply in virtue of the authority of Scripture.⁵ No other doctrine will be found in the Bible which is directly contrary to it, though some may be found which are contrary to it by implication. [15] Scripture’s ways of speaking often seem to presuppose something contrary to what it has explicitly taught. For that reason, only those passages [which seem contrary to Scripture’s explicit teachings] are to be explained metaphorically.

[6] For example, Scripture teaches clearly that God is unique (see Deuteronomy 6:4), and you do not find any other passage, anywhere, directly affirming that there is more than one God.⁶ But there are [20] numerous passages where God speaks of himself, and the Prophets speak of God, in the plural number.⁷ It’s only this manner of speaking which presupposes that there is more than one God; it does not show that this was the speaker’s intent. So all these passages are to be explained metaphorically—not because it’s contrary to reason that there is more than one God, but because Scripture itself directly affirms that God is unique.

[25] [7] Similarly, because Scripture (in Deuteronomy 4:15) directly affirms (as he thinks) that God is incorporeal,⁸ we are therefore bound to believe that God does not have a body—solely on the authority of this passage, not on the authority of reason. So, it’s only by the authority of Scripture that we are bound to explain metaphorically all the passages [30] which attribute to God hands, feet, etc.⁹ [On this view] it is only a manner of speaking in these passages which seems to presuppose that God has a body.

[8] That’s the opinion of this author. Insofar as he wants to explain Scripture by Scripture, I praise him. But I’m amazed that a man endowed [III/182] with reason should be so eager to destroy reason. It’s certainly true that Scripture ought to be explained by Scripture, so long as we’re only working out the meaning of the statements and the Prophets’ intention. But once we’ve unearthed the true meaning, we must, necessarily, use judgment and reason to give it our assent. [9] If reason must still [5] be made completely subordinate to Scripture, however much it may protest against it, I ask whether we ought to subordinate it with reason or without it, like blind men? If without reason, then of course we’re acting foolishly and without judgment. If with reason, then we embrace Scripture only by the command of reason. We would not, therefore, embrace it if it were contrary to reason.

[10] I ask you, who can embrace something in his mind in spite of [10] the protests of reason? What else is denying something in your mind but the fact that reason protests against it? I can find no words to express my amazement that people should want to make reason, [God’s] greatest gift, a divine light, subordinate to dead letters—which men’s wicked conduct could have corrupted—that it should be thought no crime to speak unworthily against the mind, the true original text of [15] God’s word, and to maintain that it is corrupt, blind, and lost, but that it should be considered the greatest crime to think such things about the letter, the image of God’s word.¹⁰

[11] They think it pious to trust nothing to reason and their own judgment, but impious to doubt the good faith of those who handed down the Sacred Books to us. That’s just folly, not piety. What are they [20] worried about? What are they afraid of? Can’t Religion and faith be defended unless men deliberately make themselves ignorant of everything, and say farewell to reason completely? If that’s what they believe, they’re more fearful for Scripture than trusting in it. [12] But it’s far from true that Religion and piety want reason to be their handmaid, or that reason wants Religion to be its handmaid. Each can maintain [25] control of its own domain with the utmost harmony. More on this shortly. First, I want to examine here the Rule of that Rabbi.

[13] As we’ve said, [Alfakhar] holds [i] that we’re bound to accept as true whatever Scripture affirms, and reject as false whatever it denies; and [ii] that Scripture never explicitly affirms or denies anything contrary [30] to what it’s affirmed or denied in another passage.¹¹ No one can fail to see how rash it is to say these things. [14] For—not to mention now that he hasn’t paid attention to the fact that Scripture is made up of different books, written at different times, by different authors, for different men—or that he says these things on his own authority [III/183] (since reason and Scripture say nothing of the kind)— he ought to have shown that all the passages which are contrary to others only by implication can be suitably explained, from the nature of the language and the purpose of the passage, as metaphors. And he ought also to have shown that Scripture has reached our hands uncorrupted.

[15] But let’s examine the matter in an orderly way. About his first [5] claim, [i], I ask: what if reason protests? are we still bound to accept as true what Scripture affirms and reject as false what it denies? Perhaps he will add that there is nothing in Scripture contrary to reason. But I insist that it explicitly affirms and teaches that God is jealous (e.g., [10] in the Decalogue itself [Exodus 20:5, Deuteronomy 5:9], in Exodus 34:14,¹² in Deuteronomy 4:24, and in numerous other places).¹³ But this is contrary to reason. Still [by Alfakhar’s principles] it must be asserted as true. Indeed, if certain passages are found in Scripture which presuppose that God is not jealous, they would have to be explained metaphorically, so that they did not seem to presuppose any such thing.

[15] [16] Similarly, Scripture says explicitly that God came down upon mount Sinai (see Exodus 19:20),¹⁴ and attributes other local motions to him.¹⁵ Nowhere does it explicitly teach that God does not move. So everyone must admit that this too is true [i.e., that God moves from one place to another]. When Solomon says (1 Kings 8:27) that God is [20] not contained in any place, since he has not explicitly maintained that God does not move, but it only follows from that that he doesn’t, this will have to be explained in a way that does not seem to take local motion away from God.

[17] Similarly, the heavens would have to be taken as God’s dwelling place and throne, because Scripture explicitly affirms this.¹⁶ And in this way a great many things said in accordance with the opinions of the [25] Prophets and the common people—which only reason and Philosophy teach to be false, not Scripture—all these things would nevertheless have to be supposed to be true, according to the opinion of this author, because there is no consulting reason in these matters.

[18] Next, [Alfakhar] is just wrong when he claims that one passage is contrary to another only by implication, never directly. For Moses [30] affirms directly that God is a fire (see Deuteronomy 4:24) and denies directly that God has any likeness to visible things (see Deuteronomy 4:12).¹⁷ If he should reply that the latter passage does not deny directly that God is a fire, but only denies it by implication, and hence that the latter passage must be accommodated to the former—all right! Let us grant that God is a fire. Or rather, so as not to rave with him, let us [III/184] set these examples to one side and bring forward another.

[19] Samuel¹⁸** directly denies that God repents of his judgment (see 1 Samuel 15:29), whereas Jeremiah, on the contrary, affirms that God repents of the good and of the evil which he had decreed (Jeremiah [5] 18:8–10). Are these passages not directly opposed to one another? Which of the two does he want to explain metaphorically? Each statement is universal and contrary to the other. What the one directly affirms, the other directly denies. So [Alfakhar] himself, according to his own rule, is bound to embrace as true what he is also bound to reject as false.

[20] Another point: what does it matter if one passage is not directly [10] contrary to the other, but only contrary to the other by implication, if the principle of inference is clear and the circumstances and nature of the passage do not allow metaphorical explanations? There are a great many such passages in the Bible. See Ch. 2, where we showed that the Prophets had different and contrary opinions. See especially [15] all the contradictions we showed in the Histories (see Chs. 9 and 10). [21] I don’t need to review all these matters here. What I’ve already said is enough to show the absurdities which follow from this position and rule, to show its falsity and its author’s rashness.

So we’ve demolished Alfakhar’s position as well as that of Maimonides. [20] We’ve established, unshakably, that Theology is not bound to be the handmaid of reason, nor reason the handmaid of Theology, but that each rules its own domain. As we’ve said: reason’s domain is truth and wisdom; Theology’s is piety and obedience. [22] For as we’ve shown, the power of reason does not go so far as to enable it to determine [25] that men can be blessed by obedience alone, without understanding things. But Theology teaches nothing but this, and does not command anything but obedience. It neither wills nor can do anything against reason. [23] For as we showed in the preceding chapter, it determines the doctrines of faith only so far as is sufficient for obedience. But precisely [30] how those doctrines are to be understood, with respect to their truth, it leaves to be determined by reason, which is really the light of the mind, without which it sees nothing but dreams and inventions.

[24] By Theology here I understand, in brief, revelation, insofar as it indicates the goal we said Scripture aims at: the principle and manner of obedience, or the doctrines of true piety and faith. This is what [III/185] is properly called the word of God. It does not consist in a certain number of books. On this see Ch. 12. For if you consider the precepts of Theology taken in this sense, or its teachings concerning life, you will find that it agrees with reason; if you consider its intent and end, you will find that it contains nothing contrary to reason. That’s why [5] it is common to everyone.

[25] As for the whole of Scripture in general, we’ve already shown in Ch. 7 that its meaning is to be determined only from its history, and not from the universal history of Nature, which is the foundation only of Philosophy. If, after we have discovered its true meaning [10] in this way, we find that here or there it is contrary to reason, this should not give us any pause. For whatever we find in the Bible of this kind, whatever men can fail to know without detriment to their loving-kindness, we know with certainty does not touch Theology or the word of God. So anyone can think whatever he likes about these matters, without wickedness.¹⁹ We conclude, therefore, unconditionally, [15] that Scripture is not to be accommodated to reason, nor reason to Scripture.

[26] Nevertheless, we cannot demonstrate by reason whether the foundation of Theology—that men are saved only by obedience—is true or false. So someone may raise against us too the objection: why then do we believe it? If we embrace it without reason, like blind men, [20] then we too act foolishly and without judgment. [27] On the other hand, if we want to maintain that we can demonstrate this foundation rationally, then Theology will be a part of Philosophy, and ought not to be separated from it.

To this I reply that I maintain unconditionally that the natural light [25] cannot discover this fundamental tenet of Theology—or at least that no one yet has demonstrated it. So revelation has been most necessary. Nevertheless, I maintain that we can use our judgment, so that we accept what has already been revealed with at least moral certainty. [28] I say with moral certainty, for we should not expect to be able to be more certain of it than the Prophets were. As we’ve already shown [30] in Ch. 2 of this Treatise, those who first received the revelation had a certainty which was only moral.

[29] So those who try to show the authority of Scripture by mathematical demonstrations are completely misguided.²⁰ For the authority of the Bible depends on the authority of the Prophets. So it can’t be [III/186] demonstrated by any stronger arguments than those the Prophets used long ago to persuade the people of their own authority. Indeed, our certainty about this can’t have any other foundation than the one on which the Prophets founded their own certainty and authority.

[30] We’ve shown [ii, 4–10] that the whole certainty of the Prophets is based on three considerations:

[5] (i) a distinct and vivid imagination,

(ii) a Sign, and finally (and principally),

(iii) a heart inclined toward the right and the good.

The certainty and authority the Prophets themselves had were not based on any other reasons. So they could not demonstrate their authority by any other reasons—not even to the people to whom they previously spoke orally, much less to us, to whom they now speak in writing.

[10] [31] But the first consideration, that they imagined things vividly, could be established only for the Prophets [themselves]. So our whole certainty about revelation can and must be founded only on the other two considerations, the Sign and the Doctrine.

And indeed Moses too explicitly teaches this. [32] For in Deuteronomy 18[:15–22] he commands the people to obey the Prophet who [15] has given a true sign in the name of God, but to condemn him to death if he has predicted something falsely, even if [he made that prediction] in the name of God. He also commands them to condemn to death the Prophet who has tried to seduce the people away from true religion, even if he has confirmed his authority by signs and wonders. On this see Deuteronomy 13[:1–5].

[33] From this it follows that a true Prophet is distinguished from a false one by doctrine and miracle taken together. For Moses declares [20] a Prophet who satisfies these conditions to be a true one, and he commands the people to trust him without any fear of fraud. And he says that they are false Prophets, punishable by death, who have predicted something falsely, even if in the name of God, or who have taught false Gods, even if they have performed true miracles.

[34] So we too are bound to believe Scripture, i.e., the Prophets themselves, only for this reason, i.e., because of their teaching, confirmed [25] by signs. Since we see that the Prophets commend Loving-kindness and Justice above all, and aim at nothing else, we conclude from this that they did not teach with an evil intent, but from a true heart, that men become blessed by obedience and faith. And because they confirmed this in addition with signs, we’re persuaded that they did not say this [30] rashly, and were not insane when they were prophesying.

[35] In this we’re even more confirmed when we pay attention to the fact that they taught no moral doctrine which does not agree fully with reason. It’s no accident that the word of God in the Prophets agrees completely with the word of God speaking in us. We’re as certain of these things from the Bible as the Jews once were when they inferred the same things from the living voice of the Prophets. [36] For we [III/187] have shown above, toward the end of Ch. 12 [§§38–39], that, in its teaching and principal historical narratives, Scripture has reached our hands uncorrupted.

So even though this foundation of the whole of Theology and Scripture cannot be shown by a mathematical demonstration, we can [5] still embrace it with sound judgment. [37] For it’s sheer stupidity to be unwilling to embrace what has been confirmed by so many testimonies of the Prophets—and what, moreover, is a great comfort to those whose powers of reason are not strong, what brings no slight advantage to the Republic, and what we can believe with absolutely no risk or [10] harm—merely because it can’t be mathematically demonstrated. This would be as if, to organize our lives wisely, we should admit nothing as true which can be called in doubt by any reason for doubting, or as if most of our actions were not uncertain and full of risk.²¹

[38] I confess, of course, that people who think Philosophy and [15] Theology contradict one another, who therefore think that one or the other must be toppled from its throne, and that it’s necessary to say goodbye to one or the other—these people have some reason to want to lay down firm foundations for Theology, and to try to demonstrate it mathematically. Who but someone desperate and mad would want to recklessly say goodbye to reason, or to scorn the arts and sciences, [20] and deny the certainty of reason?

[39] But we can’t completely excuse them. They want to call upon reason to repudiate reason, and by a certain reason make reason uncertain. While they’re trying to show the truth and authority of Theology [25] by mathematical demonstrations, and to take away the authority of reason and the natural light, all they’re doing is dragging Theology under the control of reason. They clearly seem to suppose that Theology has no brilliance unless it’s illuminated by the natural light.

[40] On the other hand, if they boast that they trust completely in [30] the internal testimony of the Holy Spirit, and call reason to their aid only to convince nonbelievers, we can’t trust what they say. For we can easily show that they say this either from the affects or from vain-glory. [41] For from Chapter 14 it follows as clearly as can be that the Holy Spirit gives testimony only concerning good works. That’s why even [III/188] Paul calls them the fruit of the Holy Spirit (Galatians 5:22).

Really, the Holy Spirit is nothing but a satisfaction which arises in the mind from good actions. [42] The only Spirit which gives testimony concerning the truth and certainty in speculative matters is reason. [5] As we’ve already shown, only reason has laid claim to the domain of truth for itself. If anyone says he has a Spirit other than [reason] which makes him certain of the truth, he’s making a false boast. He’s speaking only from a prejudice stemming from his affects—or else he’s fleeing for protection to sacred things, fearing that he’ll be defeated by the [10] Philosophers and exposed to public ridicule. But it won’t work. What refuge can he make for himself if he commits treason against reason?

[43] But let’s put these people to one side. I think I’ve said enough in defense of my cause. I’ve shown how Philosophy is to be separated from Theology, what each principally consists in, and that neither should be the handmaid of the other, but that each has charge of its own domain [15] without any conflict with the other. Finally, when the opportunity presented itself, I’ve also shown the absurdities, disadvantages, and harms which have followed from the strange ways men have confused these two faculties, and have not known how to distinguish accurately between them, and to separate them from one another.

[20] [44] Before I proceed to other things, I want to remind you—even though I’ve said this already²²**—that I judge the utility, even necessity, of Sacred Scripture, or revelation, to be very great. We can’t perceive by the natural light that simple obedience is a path to salvation.²³** Only revelation teaches that this happens, by a special grace of God, which [25] we cannot grasp by reason. It follows that Scripture has brought great comfort to mortals. [45] Everyone, without exception, can obey. But only a very few (compared with the whole human race) acquire a habit of virtue from the guidance of reason alone. So, if we didn’t have this testimony of Scripture, we would doubt nearly everyone’s salvation.

1. Echoing Terence’s Eunuchus I, 63 (ALM).

2. Judah Alfakhar (d. 1235), a doctor in the court of Ferdinand III of Castile, was one of the leaders of the Jewish community in Toledo, who opposed Maimonides’ use of Greek philosophy to interpret Scripture. The letter Spinoza cites was addressed to David Kimchi, a prominent thirteenth-century defender of Maimonides. For a translation of the letter and helpful background, see Adler 1996. Preus 1995 has argued persuasively that in criticizing “Alfakhar” Spinoza is really attacking certain contemporary opponents, orthodox Calvinists, whose views it was safer for Spinoza to discuss under the cover of representing them as the views of a Jewish philosopher.

3. *I remember having once read these doctrines in a Letter against Maimonides, included along with the Letters attributed to Maimonides. [The first two sentences of this paragraph fairly represent Alfakhar’s position as articulated in the letter translated in Adler 1996, 151.]

4. **[ADN. XXVIII] See Philosophy the Interpreter of Scripture, p. 75. [This adnotation occurs only in Marchand’s copy of the adnotations, and is probably his own note, not Spinoza’s. See the discussion in the Editorial Preface to the TTP, p. 62, and Preus 1995. On that assumption, Marchand is calling attention to a similarity between Alfakhar’s position, as articulated by Spinoza, and the position of an unnamed Calvinist opponent, as articulated by Meyer. The passage Marchand refers to occurs in Meyer 1666, 75 (Meyer 2005, 169–70). The letter of Alfakhar translated in Adler 1996 contains no such universal rule, and Adler has suggested (in personal correspondence, April 2015) that if Alfakhar had stated a rule, it would no doubt have been Rule 13 of Rabbi Ishmael: “When two passages [seem to] contradict each other, [they are to be elucidated by] a third passage that reconciles them” (Jonathan Sacks, The Koren Siddur [Jerusalem: Koren Publishers, 2009], 54). Adler observes that “these thirteen rules are found in the introduction to the Sifra, a midrash on the book of Leviticus. When he was still an observant Jew, Spinoza would have recited these rules every morning as part of the daily prayers. They are found, for example, in the prayer book Seder Tefilot (Amsterdam: Menasseh Ben Israel, 1626), p. 37b.” Adler conjectures that Alfakhar is likely to have been a mask for Jacobus du Bois, a Calvinist preacher in Leiden. Whatever the identity of Meyer’s opponent, Spinoza’s characterization of this position seems to owe more to Meyer than it does to Alfakhar.]

5. As I translate dogmatice, Spinoza formulates the rule as applying only to things which Scripture teaches as doctrine, i.e., as propositions the faithful are required to believe. This would allow that statements which don’t rise to the level of doctrine (the details of historical narratives, perhaps) don’t fall under the rule. I see no such distinction in Alfakhar. Arguably the idea that Scripture teaches certain things as doctrines which must be accepted is “a very un-Jewish manner of speaking about scripture” (Preus 1995, 371–72). Nor does Alfakhar think Scripture never explicitly contradicts its teachings. He allows that there are several scriptural passages which contradict one another on the subject of God’s corporeality.

6. Cf. ii, 36–40.

7. One passage where God apparently speaks of himself in the plural number would be Gen. 1:26, discussed by Manasseh 1842/1972, I, 13–15. An example of a passage where a prophet speaks of God in a way implying plurality might be Isa. 48:16, discussed by Manasseh, 1842/1972, II, 162–63. Malet suggests that Spinoza may have in mind those passages in which Elohim is used as the divine name with a plural verb. Grammatically, Elohim is plural, but normally it takes a singular verb, suggesting that in those passages the term was understood to be singular in meaning. Malet cites a number of exceptions to this rule, where the combination of Elohim with a plural verb raises doubts about the way the subject was understood. See Malet 1966, 231n.

8. Deut. 4:15–16 reads: “For your own sake, therefore, be most careful—since you saw no shape when the LORD spoke to you at Horeb out of the fire—not to act wickedly and make for yourselves a sculptured image in any likeness whatever.” This is not one of the passages Alfakhar cites in his discussion of God’s corporeality.

9. The subject of God’s corporeality was a major topic in Maimonides’ Guide, whose first seventy chapters provide many examples of the kind of passage referred to here. Some of these were previously discussed in ii, 42–43, where the subject is the related topic of God’s visibility.

10. Cf. the Preface, §§17 and 23. Spinoza’s position in this paragraph seems to illustrate the position on the relation between will and intellect developed in E II P49S (and discussed in Curley 1975).

11. Alfakhar does not make the distinction Spinoza relies on here: between what Scripture says explicitly and what it says by implication.

12. Accepting V-L’s (1914) emendation. The first edition, which Gebhardt follows, reads 4:14.

13. Maimonides gives numerous examples in the Guide I, 36.

14. Discussed in Manasseh 1842/1972, I, 152–53.

15. Maimonides’ Guide discusses numerous examples (e.g., in I, 10, 12, 18, 21, etc.).

16. For examples of the kinds of passage at issue, see Maimonides, Guide I, 8, 9, 11.

17. Spinoza returns to the example discussed in vii, 18–22.

18. **[ADN. XXIX] See Philosophy the Interpreter of Holy Scripture, p. 76. [March-and refers here to Meyer 1666 (Meyer 2005, 171–72). Meyer uses somewhat different examples to make the same point. E.g., he cites both 1 Sam. 15:29 and Num. 23:19 to illustrate Scripture’s claim that God does not repent or change his mind, and Gen. 6:6 and Exod. 32:14 as examples of passages where God is said to do just that. He seems clearly to be aware that there are other passages he might have cited, e.g., Gen. 18:22–33; 1 Sam. 15:35; Jon. 3:9–10; Amos 7:3. The problem is discussed in Manasseh 1842/1972, I, 35–36, II, 200–201.]

19. So, for example, even though it’s clear that Joshua believed that the sun moves around the earth (ii, 26), we are nonetheless free to accept a Copernican theory of the solar system.

20. Giancotti (following Meli) suggests that Faustus Socinus is under attack here. His De auctoritate S. Scripturae (1580) defends the position Spinoza attacks. For an English translation of this work, see Socinus 1580.

21. ALM note several allusions to Terence in this passage. Specifically, to Phormio I, 77; Andria I, 67; Eunuchus I, 61–63.

22. **[ADN. XXX] See Philosophy the Interpreter of Scripture, p. 115. [Marchand refers again to Meyer 1666. In Meyer 2005 the page reference would be to 235–41].

23. **[ADN. XXXI] That is, revelation can teach that it’s enough for salvation or blessedness to embrace the divine decrees as laws or commands, and that it’s not necessary to conceive them as eternal truths. Reason can’t teach this. This is evident from what was demonstrated in Ch. 4. [The “extra text” Gebhardt adds to this note from the version in Saint-Glain seems to reflect just a (trivially) different way of translating the Latin rather than a genuinely alternative text.]

[III/189] CHAPTER XVI

On the Foundations of the Republic; on the natural and civil right of each person; and on the Right of the Supreme 'Powers

[1] So far we’ve taken care to separate Philosophy from Theology and [5] to show the freedom of philosophizing which [Theology]¹ grants to everyone. Now it’s time for us to ask how far this freedom of thought, and of saying what you think, extends in the best Republic. To examine this in an orderly way, we must discuss the foundations of the Republic, [10] and first, the natural right of each person, without attending yet to the Republic or to Religion.

[2] By the right and established practice of nature I mean nothing but the rules of the nature of each individual, according to which we conceive each thing to be naturally determined to existing and having [15] effects in a certain way. For example, fish are determined by nature to swimming, and the large ones to eating the smaller. So it is by the supreme right of nature that fish are masters of the water, and that the large ones eat the smaller.

[3] For it’s certain that nature, considered absolutely, has the supreme right to do everything it can, i.e., that the right of nature extends as far [20] as its power does. For the power of nature is the power of God itself, and he has the supreme right over all things.² [4] But the universal power of the whole of nature is nothing but the power of all individuals together. From this it follows that each individual has a supreme right to do everything it can, or that the right of each thing extends [25] as far as its determinate power does. Now the supreme law of nature is that each thing strives to persevere in its state, as far as it can by its own power, and does this, not on account of anything else, but only of itself. From this it follows that each individual has the supreme right to do this, i.e. (as I have said), to exist and have effects as it is [30] naturally determined to do.³

[5] Nor do we recognize here any difference between men and other individuals in nature, nor between men endowed with reason and those others who are ignorant of true reason, nor between fools and madmen, [III/190] and those who are sensible and sane. For whatever each thing does according to the laws of its nature, it does with supreme right, because it acts as it has been determined to do according to nature, and cannot do otherwise.

[6] So among men who are considered as living only under the rule of nature, one who does not yet know reason, or does not yet have a [5] habit of virtue, has a supreme right to live according to the laws of appetite alone—just as much as one who guides his life according to the laws of reason. I.e., just as the wise man has the supreme right to do everything which reason dictates, or to live according to the laws of reason, so also the ignorant and weak-minded have the supreme right to do everything appetite urges, or to live according to the laws [10] of appetite. This is just what Paul teaches, when he recognizes no sin before the law,⁴ i.e., so long as men are considered as living only according to the rule of nature.

[7] The natural right of each man is determined not by sound reason, but by desire and power. For not all men are naturally determined to [15] operate according to the rules and laws of reason. On the contrary, everyone is born ignorant of everything. Before men can know the true principle of living and acquire a virtuous disposition, much of their life has passed, even if they have been well brought up. Meanwhile, they are bound to live, and to preserve themselves, as far as they can by [20] their own power, i.e., by the prompting of appetite alone. Nature has given them nothing else. It has denied them the actual power to live according to sound reason. So they’re no more bound to live according to the laws of a sound mind than a cat is bound to live according to the laws of a lion’s nature.

[8] Whatever anyone who is considered to be only under the rule [25] of nature judges to be useful for himself—whether under the guidance of sound reason or by the prompting of the affects—he is permitted, by supreme natural right, to want and to take—by force, by deception, by entreaties, or by whatever way is, in the end, easiest. Consequently, he is permitted to regard as an enemy anyone who wants to prevent him from doing what he intends to do.

[30] [9] From these considerations it follows that the Right and Established Practice of nature, under which all are born and for the most part live, prohibits nothing except what no one desires and what no one can do: not disputes, not hatreds, not anger, not deception. Without qualification, it is not averse to anything appetite urges.

[10] This is not surprising. Nature is not constrained by the laws of [III/191] human reason, which aim only at man’s true advantage and preservation. It is governed by infinite other laws, which look to the eternal order of the whole of nature, of which man is only a small part. It is only by the necessity of this order that all individuals are determined to exist and have effects in a definite way. [11] So when anything in nature seems [5] to us ridiculous, absurd, or evil, that’s because we know things only in part, and for the most part are ignorant of the order and coherence of the whole of nature, and because we want everything to be directed according to the usage of our reason—even though what reason says is evil is not evil in relation to the order and laws of nature as a whole, [10] but only in relation to the laws of our nature.⁵

[12] Still, no one can doubt how much more advantageous it is to man to live according to the laws and certain dictates of our reason. As we’ve said, these laws and dictates aim only at the true advantage of men. There’s no one who does not desire to live securely, and as [15] far as possible, without fear. But this simply can’t happen so long as everyone is permitted to do whatever he likes, and reason is granted no more right than hatred and anger. [13] There is no one who lives among hostilities, hatreds, anger and deceptions, who does not live anxiously, and who does not strive to avoid these things, as far as he can.

Also (as we showed in Ch. 5 [§§18–20]), if we consider that without [20] mutual aid men must live most wretchedly and without any cultivation of reason, we shall see very clearly that to live, not only securely, but very well, men had to agree in having one purpose. So they brought it about that they would have collectively the natural right each one had to all things. It would no longer be determined according to the [25] force and appetite of each one, but according to the power and will of everyone together.

[14] Nevertheless, they would have tried this in vain if they wanted to follow only what appetite urges. For according to the laws of appetite each person is drawn in a different direction. So they had to make a [30] very firm resolution and contract to direct everything only according to the dictate of reason. No one dares to be openly contrary to that, for fear of seeming mindless. They had to agree to rein in their appetites, insofar as those appetites urge something harmful to someone else, to do nothing to anyone which they would not want done to themselves, and finally, to defend another person’s right as if it were their own.

[15] And now we cannot fail to see how they had to enter into this contract, to make it valid and lasting. For it’s a universal law of human nature that no one neglects to pursue what he judges to be good, unless [III/192] he hopes for a greater good, or fears a greater harm. Nor does anyone submit to any evil, except to avoid a greater one, or because he hopes for a greater good. Between two goods, each person chooses the one he judges to be greater; between two evils, the one which seems to him lesser.

I say explicitly: the one which seems to the person choosing to be [5] greater or lesser. It does not follow that things must be as he judges them to be. [16] This law is so firmly inscribed in human nature, that it ought to be numbered among the eternal truths, which no one can fail to know.

From this it follows necessarily that no one will promise to give up the right he has to all things except with intent to deceive,⁶** and that [10] absolutely no one will stand by his promises unless he fears a greater evil or hopes for a greater good. [17] To understand this better, suppose a Robber forces me to promise him that I’ll give him my goods when he wishes.⁷ Since, as I’ve already shown, my natural right is determined only by my power, it’s certain that if I can free myself from this Robber [15] by deceptively promising him whatever he wishes, I’m permitted to do this by natural right, to contract deceptively for whatever he wishes.

[18] Or suppose that without intent to deceive I’ve promised someone that for twenty days I won’t taste food, or any nourishment at all, and that afterward I see that this promise was foolish, that I can’t keep it without very great injury. Since, by natural law, I’m bound to choose [20] the lesser of two evils,⁸ I can, with supreme right, break faith with such a contract, and treat what I have said as if I hadn’t said it. [19] And I say that natural right permits this, whether I see by a true and certain reason that I made a bad promise, or merely seem to see this by opinion. For whether I see this truly or falsely, I shall fear a very great evil, and according to the established practice of nature, strive to avoid it in every way.

[25] [20] From these considerations we conclude that a contract can have no force except by reason of its utility.⁹ If the utility is taken away, the contract is taken away with it, and remains null and void. For that reason it’s foolish to demand of someone that he keep faith with you forever, unless you try at the same time to bring it about that breaking the contract you’re entering into brings more harm than utility to the one who breaks it.

[30] This is especially applicable to the institution of the Republic. [21] If all men could easily be led just by the guidance of reason, and could recognize the supreme utility and necessity of the Republic, there would be no one who would not absolutely detest deceptions. With the utmost good faith, everyone would stand by their contracts completely, out of a desire for this supreme good, the preservation of the Republic. Above [III/193] all else, they would maintain trust, the chief protection of the Republic.

[22] But it’s far from true that everyone can always be easily led just by the guidance of reason. Everyone is drawn by his own pleasure.¹⁰ Most of the time the mind is so filled with greed, love of esteem, envy, anger, etc., that there’s no room for reason. [23] That’s why, though men [5] may promise with definite signs of an ingenuous intention, and contract to maintain trust, still, no one can be certain of another’s good faith unless something else is added to the promise.¹¹ For by natural right each person can act deceptively, and is bound to stand by the contract only by the hope of a greater good or the fear of a greater evil.

[24] Because we’ve already shown that [each person’s] natural right is [10] determined only by his power, it follows that as much of his power as he transfers to another, whether because he’s forced to, or voluntarily, so much of his right does he also necessarily give up to the other person. It follows also that if a person has the supreme 'power, which enables him to compel everyone by force, and restrain them by fear of [15] the supreme punishment (which everyone, without exception, fears),¹² then that person has the supreme right over everyone. He will retain this right just so long as he preserves this power of doing whatever he wishes. Otherwise he will command by entreaty; no one stronger will be bound to obey him unless he wishes to.

[25] This, then, is the way

[20] [i] a social order can be formed consistently with natural right, and

[ii] every contract can always be preserved with the utmost good faith—

if each person transfers all the power he has to the social order, which alone will retain the supreme right of nature over all things. That is, the social order alone will have sovereignty, and each person will be bound to obey it, either freely, or from fear of the supreme punishment. [26] [25] The right of such a social order is called Democracy. This is defined, then, as a general assembly of men which has, as a body, the supreme right over everything in its power.

From this it follows that no law binds the supreme 'power. Everyone must obey it in everything. For everyone had to agree to this, either tacitly or explicitly, when they transferred to the supreme 'power all [30] their power to defend themselves, i.e., all their right. [27] If they wished to keep anything for themselves, they ought at the same time to have taken care that they could defend it safely. Since they did not do that—and could not do it without dividing, and thereby destroying, the sovereignty¹³—by this act they submitted themselves absolutely to the will of the supreme 'power. Since they did this unconditionally, [III/194] and (as we’ve already shown) were both compelled to it by necessity and urged to it by reason, it follows that unless we want to be enemies of the state, and act contrary to reason, which urges us to defend the state with all our powers, we’re bound to carry out absolutely all the commands of the supreme 'power—even if it commands the greatest absurdities. For reason commands that we carry out even those orders, [5] so as to choose the lesser of two evils.

[28] Moreover, everyone was easily able to run the risk of submitting himself absolutely to the command and will of another. For as we’ve shown, this right of commanding whatever they wish belongs to the supreme 'powers only so long as they really have the supreme 'power. [10] If they should lose [that 'power], they also lose, at the same time, the right of commanding all things. [The right] falls to him or those who have acquired it and can retain it.

[29] So only very rarely can it happen that the supreme 'powers command great absurdities. To look out for their own interests and retain their sovereignty, it is incumbent on them most of all to consult [15] the common good, and to direct everything according to the dictate of reason. As Seneca says,¹⁴ no one continues a violent rule for long.

[30] To this we may add that in a democratic state, absurdities are less to be feared. If the assembly is large, it’s almost impossible that the majority of its members should agree on one absurd action.¹⁵ Again, [20] as we’ve also shown, its foundation and end are precisely to avoid the absurdities of appetite, and to confine men within the limits of reason, as far as possible, so that they may live harmoniously and peacefully. If this foundation is removed, the whole structure will easily fall. [31] It’s incumbent only on the supreme 'power, then, to provide for these things, and on the subjects, as we have said, to carry out its commands, [25] and not to recognize any other right than that which the supreme 'power declares to be right.

[32] Perhaps someone will think that in this way we make subjects slaves, because he thinks someone who acts according to a command is a slave, whereas someone who governs his conduct according to his own heart is a free man.

But this is not absolutely true. Really, the person who is drawn by his [30] own pleasure, and can neither see nor do anything useful to himself, is most a slave. The only free person is the one who lives wholeheartedly according to the guidance of reason alone.

[33] An action done on a command—obedience—does, in some measure, take away freedom. But that isn’t what makes the slave. It’s the reason for the action. If the end of the action is not the advantage of the agent himself, but of the person who issues the command, then the agent is a slave, useless to himself. [34] But in a Republic, and a state [III/195] where the supreme law is the well-being of the whole people, not that of the ruler,¹⁶ someone who obeys the supreme 'power in everything should not be called a slave, useless to himself, but a subject.

So that Republic is most free whose laws are founded on sound reason. For there each person, when he wishes, can be free,¹⁷** i.e., live [5] wholeheartedly according to the guidance of reason. [35] Similarly, even though children are bound to obey all the commands of their parents, they are still not slaves. For their parents’ commands are primarily concerned with the advantage of the children.

We recognize a great difference, then, between a slave, a son, and a subject. We define these as follows:

[10] a slave is someone who is bound to obey the commands of a master, which are concerned only with the advantage of the person issuing the command;

a son is someone who does what is advantageous for himself, in accordance with a parent’s command; and

a subject, finally, is someone who does what is advantageous for the collective body—and hence, also for himself—in accordance with the command of the supreme 'power.

[15] [36] With this I think I have shown sufficiently clearly what the foundations of the democratic state are. I preferred to treat it before all others, because it seemed the most natural state, and the one which approached most nearly the freedom nature concedes to everyone. In it no one so transfers his natural right to another that in the future there is no consultation with him. Instead he transfers it to the greater part [20] of the whole Society, of which he makes one part. In this way everyone remains equal, as they were before, in the state of nature.

[37] Again, I wanted to treat in detail only this state because it was most suitable for my purpose, since I had decided to discuss the utility of freedom in a Republic. I pass over the foundations of the other forms of 'power. For us to recognize their right, it’s not necessary now [25] to know what their origin is or how they often arise. That’s established more than clearly enough by what we have just shown. [38] For whoever has the supreme 'power, whether it’s one person, or a few, or everyone, it’s certain that he possesses the supreme right to command whatever he wishes. Moreover, it’s certain that whoever has transferred his 'power to defend himself to another, whether voluntarily or because [30] compelled by force, has completely yielded him his natural right, and consequently has decided to obey him in absolutely everything. He is bound to make good this decision so long as the King, or the Nobles, or the People, keep the supreme 'power they received, which was the basis of the transfer of right. I need add no more.

[39] Now that we have shown what the foundations and right of the [III/196] state are, it will be easy to determine what private civil right, injury, justice and injustice are in the civil state; and again, who is an ally, who an enemy, and what the crime of treason is.

[40]¹⁸ By private civil right we can understand nothing but the freedom [5] each person has to preserve himself in his state, which is determined by the edicts of the supreme 'power, and is defended only by its authority. For after each person has transferred his right to live according to his own good pleasure, a right which used to be limited only by his own 'power—that is, has transferred to another his freedom and power to defend himself—he is bound to live now solely by that other’s reason, [10] and to defend himself solely by its protection.

[41] An injury occurs when a citizen or subject is forced to suffer a harm from someone else, contrary to the civil law, or to an edict of the supreme 'power. For an injury cannot be conceived except in a civil state; and the supreme 'powers (to whom, by right, all things are permitted) cannot do an injury to their subjects. An injury can occur only among [15] private persons who are bound by law not to harm one another.

[42] Justice is a constancy of mind in apportioning to each person what belongs to him according to civil law. Injustice is taking away from someone, under the pretext of right, what belongs to him according to the true interpretation of the laws. Justice and injustice are also called equity and inequity, because those who are established to settle disputes [20] are bound to have no regard for persons, but to treat everyone as equals, and to defend the right of each person equally, without envying the rich, or disdaining the poor.

[43] Allies are men of two states, which, to avoid the danger of war, or to gain some other advantage, contract with one another not to harm [25] one another, but to come to one another’s aid when in need, though each retains its own sovereignty. [44] This contract will be valid just as long as its foundation, the principle of danger, or of advantage, is present. For no one makes a contract or is bound to stand by a contract, except out of hope for some good, or anxiety about some evil. If [30] this foundation should be removed, the contract is removed of itself.

Experience also teaches this, as clearly as one could wish. [45] For though two different states may contract with one another not to harm one another, they still strive, as far as they can, to prevent the other from becoming too powerful. And they don’t trust what’s been said, unless they’ve seen clearly enough the end and advantage for which each one contracts. Otherwise, they fear deception, and not without [III/197] just cause. For who trusts what someone else has said and promised, when the other person continues to have the supreme 'power and right to do whatever he pleases, and is someone whose supreme law must be the well-being and advantage of his state? Who but a fool, who does not know the right the supreme 'powers have?

[46] Moreover, if we attend to piety and religion, we’ll see that when [5] keeping a promise would be harmful to his state, no ruler can stand by his promises without wickedness. If he sees that a promise he’s made is harmful to his state, he can’t keep that promise without breaking the promise he made to his subjects, a promise which binds him most firmly, a promise rulers usually undertake most sacredly to honor.

[47] Next, an enemy is whoever lives outside the state without recognizing [10] the state’s sovereignty, either as an ally or as a subject. For it’s not hatred which makes an enemy of the state, but right. The state’s right against whoever does not recognize its sovereignty by any kind of contract is the same as its right against someone who’s done it harm. Indeed, it can rightly compel him, in whatever way it can, either to surrender or to become an ally.

[15] [48] Finally, the crime of treason can be committed only by subjects or citizens, who have transferred all their right to the state, either by a tacit or by an explicit contract. A subject is said to have committed this crime if he has tried in any way to seize the right of the supreme 'power, or to transfer it to another.

[20] [49] I say “has tried,” because if they were not to be condemned until after the deed had been done, for the most part the state would try this too late, after its right had been seized or transferred to another.¹⁹ I say one who tries “in any way” to seize the right of the supreme 'power, without qualification, because I make no distinction between cases where the attempt would clearly harm the whole Republic and those where it would clearly benefit the whole Republic. [50] However [the traitor] [25] tried to do this, he’s committed treason and is rightly condemned.

Everyone acknowledges that in war this is done with the most valid right. If someone doesn’t maintain his station, but attacks the enemy without his commander’s knowledge—even if he’s done it with a good plan, and driven the enemy back—so long as he was acting merely on his own initiative, he’s still rightly condemned to death, because he’s [30] violated his oath and the commander’s right.²⁰

[51] But not everyone sees equally clearly that all citizens, without exception, are always bound by this same law, though the reason for it is exactly the same. For the Republic must be preserved and directed by the policy of the supreme 'power alone, and the citizens have agreed unconditionally that this right belongs only to the supreme 'power. So if any citizen has undertaken to carry out any public business solely [III/198] by his own decision, without the supreme council’s knowledge, he’s violated the right of the supreme 'power, has committed treason, and is rightly condemned. As we’ve said [xvi, 49], it doesn’t matter how much advantage this would certainly bring to the state.

[52] To remove any misgiving, it remains now for us to answer this [5] question: isn’t it plainly contrary to the revealed divine law to maintain, as we have above [xvi, 6], that anyone in the state of nature who doesn’t have the use of reason lives, by the supreme right of nature, according to the laws of appetite? For since everyone is equally bound by the divine command—unconditionally, whether they have the use of reason or not—to love his neighbor as himself, we can’t bring harm [10] to another person, and live by the laws of appetite alone, without a violation of right.

[53] We can easily reply to this objection if only we attend to the state of nature. For it’s prior, both in nature and in time, to religion. No one knows, by nature,²¹** that he’s bound to obey God. This knowledge [15] is something he can’t acquire by reason at all, but only by revelation, confirmed by signs. [54] So before revelation no one is bound by a divine law he can’t help but not know. We mustn’t confuse the state of nature with the state of religion, but must conceive it as being without religion or law, and hence without sin or violations of right. We’ve already done this,²² confirming our conception by the authority of Paul.

[20] [55] It’s not only because no one knows the divine law in a state of nature that we conceive that state as being prior to revealed divine law, and without such a law. It’s also because everyone is born in freedom. If, according to nature, all men were bound by divine law, or if the divine law were a law by nature, it would’ve been superfluous for God [25] to enter into a contract with men and to bind them by an agreement and an oath.²³ [56] So we must grant, without qualification, that divine law began when, in an explicit agreement, men promised God to obey him in everything. By this they, as it were, surrendered their natural freedom, and transferred their right to God, as we’ve said happens in the civil state. But I’ll treat these matters in more detail later.

[30] [57] Someone may still insist that the supreme 'powers are bound by this divine law just as much as subjects are. We’ve said, on the contrary, that they retain their natural right, and that by right everything is permitted to them.

This whole difficulty arises not so much because of the state of nature as because of the right of nature. To remove it I say that in the state of nature each person is bound by revealed law in the same [III/199] way he’s bound to live according to the dictates of sound reason: it’s more advantageous to him and necessary for his salvation. If he doesn’t want to do this, he’s permitted to act at his own risk. [58] So he’s only bound to live according to his own decision, not anyone else’s, and isn’t bound to recognize any mortal as his judge, or as by right the defender of religion.

[5] I say that the supreme 'power has retained this right. It can, indeed, consult men, but it is not bound to recognize anyone as a judge, nor any mortal other than itself as a defender of any right, except a Prophet, whom God has expressly sent, and who has shown this by indubitable signs. [59] And not even then is he compelled to recognize the man as judge, but only God himself.²⁴

[10] But if the supreme 'power doesn’t wish to obey the God revealed in his law, he may do this at his own risk and to his own loss, without any conflict with either civil or natural law. For the civil law depends only on his own decree. [60] And the natural law depends on the laws of nature, which are accommodated, not to Religion (which aims only at what is useful to man), but to the order of the whole of nature, i.e., [15] to the eternal decree of God, which is unknown to us. Some people seem to have had a conception of this, though rather obscurely, when they maintained that man can, indeed, sin against the revealed will of God, but not against his eternal decree, by which he predetermined all things.²⁵

[61] But suppose someone were now to ask: what if the supreme [20] 'power commands something contrary to religion and to the obedience we’ve promised to God in an explicit covenant? Must we obey the divine or the human command?²⁶

I’ll discuss these matters in more detail later. Here I’ll only say briefly that, when we have a certain and undoubted revelation, we must obey God above all others. [62] But as experience testifies only [25] too well, men are apt to make great mistakes in matters of religion, and to compete vigorously in inventing many things, according to the differences in their mentality. So it’s certain that if no one were bound by law to obey the supreme 'power in the things he thought pertained to religion, then the right of the state would depend on the varying judgment and affect of each person. [63] For no one would [30] be bound by a statute which he judged was contrary to his faith and superstition. So under this pretext everyone could assume a license to do anything.

In this way, the right of the state would be completely violated. From this it follows that the supreme 'power, which, both by divine and by natural law, has the sole responsibility of preserving and protecting the rights of the state, has the supreme right to maintain whatever it [III/200] judges concerning religion. Everyone is bound to obey its decrees and commands about this matter, according to the assurance they’ve given to it, which God commands them to honor in every case.²⁷

[64] But if those who have the sovereignty are Pagans, we should not enter into any contracts with them, but should resolve to suffer the greatest distress rather than transfer our right to them. And if [5] we have entered into a contract, and transferred our right to them, since we have thereby deprived ourselves of the right of defending ourselves and our religion, we are bound to obey them, and to keep faith, or to be forced to do that—unless by a certain revelation God has promised his special aid against a Tyrant or specifically willed an exception.

[10] [65] So we see that of all the Jews who were in Babylon, only three young men, who did not doubt God’s aid, were unwilling to obey Nebuchadnezzar [Daniel 3:12]. But with the further exception of Daniel, whom the King himself revered [Daniel 6:15], the rest no doubt obeyed, when they were compelled by the law, perhaps reflecting in their heart that it was in accordance with God’s decree that they had been delivered to the King, and that the King held his sovereignty and preserved it by God’s guidance.

[15] [66] On the other hand, Eleazar [2 Maccabees 6:18–31], while his Country was still standing as best it could, wanted to give his people an example of constancy, so that his followers would be prepared to bear anything rather than allow their right and 'power to be transferred to the Greeks, and would undergo anything so as not to be forced to swear loyalty to the Gentiles.

This is also confirmed by daily experience. [67] For those who rule [20] as Christian sovereigns do not hesitate, for the sake of their greater security, to conclude treaties with the Turks and Pagans, and to command their subjects, who go to live among them, not to assume a greater freedom in their practices, whether secular or religious, than they have explicitly agreed to or than that state has granted. This is [25] evident from the agreement of the Dutch with the Japanese, which we have previously spoken about [v, 33].

1. Spinoza has a demonstrative pronoun here (haec, this). Some translators have taken haec to refer to the separation between philosophy and theology; but most take it to refer to theology. Ch. xiv, 39, supports that interpretation.

2. In ii, 38, Spinoza had made God’s supreme right over all things a central point of Mosaic theology, deriving it from his creative activity. Here the Mosaic idea is combined with one which goes back to Pliny, that the power of God and the power of nature are identical. Cf. i, 44; iii, 9; and vi, 9.

3. Cf. Hobbes, DCv I, 7–10.

4. At III/54/14–15 Spinoza had cited Rom. 4:15—“where there is no law, there is no violation”— in support of attributing to Paul the idea that there is no sin without a commandment and a law. Perhaps Rom. 5:13 would have been clearer support for Spinoza’s view: “sin was indeed in the world before the law, but sin is not reckoned where there is no law.” I take this to mean that the appetites and actions the law subsequently condemned as sinful existed prior to the promulgation of the law, but that those appetites were not genuinely sinful until there was a law which prohibited them. That seems consistent with Spinoza’s position here.

5. §§10–11 will be repeated in the TP, ii, 8.

6. **[ADN. XXXII] In the civil state, where there is a common law which decides what is good and what is evil, we rightly distinguish between a good and an evil intent to deceive. But in the state of nature, where everyone is his own judge, and has the supreme right to prescribe and interpret laws for himself, indeed, even to disregard them, as he judges it to be more advantageous for himself, there it cannot be conceived that anyone acts in bad faith.

7. Spinoza’s position here contrasts interestingly with that of Hobbes (cf. DCv ii, 16; Leviathan xiv, 27). See also Grotius, De jure belli III, xix.

8. “Natural law” here translates jus naturale, a phrase discussed in the Glossary under LAW, RIGHT, where this passage is cited as illustrating an apparently prescriptive use of jus naturale. Also relevant, the Glossary entry BOUND. But in the first sentence of the next section jus naturale is translated “natural right.”

9. Wernham suggests that reflection on this conclusion may have helped convince Spinoza that the contract was superfluous. Perhaps this is why there is less emphasis on a contract in the TP.

10. An allusion to Virgil’s Eclogues ii, 65 (ALM).

11. Wernham cites Hobbes, DCv v, 4–5. Those who think Spinoza has read some version of Leviathan might think xvii, 2, of that work also relevant. What must be added to the promise is the probability of punishment for breaking it. “Covenants without the sword are but words, and of no strength to secure a man at all.”

12. It seems to have been quite traditional to make the right to inflict the death penalty one of the essential marks of sovereignty. Cf. Grotius, De jure belli I, iii, 6; Hobbes, DCv ii, 18; Pufendorf, De jure naturae VIII, iii, 1; Locke, Two Treatises II, 1.

13. I take it that Spinoza here accepts the logic of the argument of Hobbes and Bodin, that sovereignty is indivisible. Cf. DCv vi, 6–11; Leviathan xviii, 16.

14. Troades 258, previously cited in v, 22 (ALM).

15. Like Machiavelli (Discourses I, 54), Spinoza believes in the wisdom of crowds. Cf. TP vii, 5.

16. An allusion to Cicero, De legibus III, 3: salus populi suprema lex esto (ALM).

17. **[ADN. XXXIII] No matter what state a man is in, he can be free. For certainly a man is free just insofar as he is led by reason. But (contrary to Hobbes) reason urges peace in all circumstances; moreover, peace cannot be obtained unless the common laws of the state are maintained without infringement. So the more a man is led by reason, i.e., the more he is free, the more will he steadfastly maintain the state’s laws and carry out the commands of the supreme 'power to which he is subject. [Laird (1934, 300) criticized Spinoza’s grasp of Hobbes in this note. But Spinoza’s comment does say something contrary to what Hobbes says in DCv ii, 2, where the first law of nature is “to seek peace where it can be had, and where it cannot, to seek the helps of war.” In Leviathan Hobbes’ position is different, but still contrary to Spinoza’s. The first law is to seek peace, “as far as he has hope of attaining it,” but when it cannot be obtained, the right of nature permits him “to seek and use all the helps and advantages of war” (xiv, 4).]

18. Reading quod for quo in Gebhardt l. 7, and se defendere for defendere in l. 10. (ALM)

19. A bit of political wisdom which Akkerman traces to Sallust’s War with Catiline lii.

20. Spinoza is apparently thinking here of the case of Manlius Torquatus, cited below in xix, 23.

21. **[ADN. XXXIV] When Paul says [Rom. 1:20] that men are without escape, he’s speaking in a human manner. For in ch. 9 [Saint-Glain: v. 18] of the same Letter he explicitly teaches that God has mercy on those on whom he will have mercy, and hardens those he will harden, and that men are inexcusable, not because they’ve been forewarned, but only because they’re in God’s power as the clay is in the power of the potter, who makes, of the same mass, one vessel for honorable purposes, another for dishonorable ones.

As for natural divine law, whose chief precept we’ve said is to love God [iv, 12–14, 21], I’ve called it a law in the same sense philosophers call laws the common rules of nature, according to which all things happen. For the love of God is not obedience, but a virtue which is necessarily in the man who rightly knows God. Obedience is concerned with the will of the one commanding, not with the necessity and truth of the matter. Moreover, since we’re ignorant of the nature of God’s will, and on the other hand, know with certainty that whatever happens, happens only by God’s power, it’s only by revelation that we can know whether God wills that men should worship him with some honor, as they would a prince.

Moreover, we’ve shown that the divine laws seem to us to be laws, or things instituted, just as long as we do not know their cause. But when this is known, they thereby cease to be laws, and we embrace them not as laws, but as eternal truths. That is, obedience passes into love, which proceeds from true knowledge as necessarily as light does from the sun.

So under the guidance of reason we can love God, but not obey him. For we cannot embrace the divine laws as divine so long as we are ignorant of their cause; and we cannot, by reason, conceive God as establishing those laws like a prince.

22. The reference is apparently to xvi, 6, where Spinoza seems to interpret Paul’s teaching differently than he had in iv, 47–50. I take it that ADN. XXXIV is intended to address this prima facie inconsistency by recommending a reading of Rom. 1:20 which removes its endorsement of traditional natural law.

23. The issue raised in this section also arises in Hobbes. The covenantal theology of the Pentateuch is not easy to reconcile with the conception of God’s sovereignty in the book of Job. I've explored these issues in Curley 2002 and 2004.

24. Like Hobbes, Spinoza is concerned to rule out the possibility that private citizens might seek to challenge the authority of the sovereign because they have a higher obligation to God. Cf. Leviathan xxxi, 1; xxxiii, 1; xliii, 1; and the comment on these passages in the preface to my edition of Leviathan, xli–xliv. For a recent and useful treatment of the Erastian tradition in early modern political theory, see Nelson 2010.

25. Cf. Thomas (Aquinas ST I-II, cix–cxiv) and Grotius (De jure belli I, i, 10, §2) (Giancotti).

26. A version of the question raised classically in Acts 5:29, where the answer is that we must obey God rather than man. The question is also central for Hobbes. See my introduction to his Leviathan, xli–xliv.

27. Perhaps we have an allusion here to Rom. 13:1–7, a text prominently cited as authorizing (unconditional) obedience to the state.

[III/201] CHAPTER XVII

That no one can or need transfer everything to the Supreme 'Power; on the Hebrew Republic during the life of Moses, and after his death, before they elected Kings; on its excellence; why it could perish, and could hardly survive without rebellions

[1] In the last Chapter we considered the right the supreme 'powers [10] have to do everything, and the natural right each person has transferred to them. Though the view expressed there agrees in no small measure with practice, and a practice could be established which approached more and more closely to the condition we described, still, it will never happen that this view does not remain, in many respects, merely theoretical.

[2] No one will ever be able to transfer to another his power, or [15] consequently, his right, in such a way that he ceases to be a man. And there will never be a supreme 'power who can get everything to happen just as he wishes. The supreme 'power would act in vain if he commanded a subject to hate someone who had joined the subject to himself by a benefit, or to love someone who had harmed him, or not [20] to be offended by insults, or not to desire to be freed from fear, and many other things of this kind, which necessarily follow from the laws of human nature.

[3] I think experience also teaches this very clearly. Men have never surrendered their right and transferred their power to another in such a way that the people who received the right and power from them did not fear them, and that the state was not in greater danger from [25] its own citizens than from its enemies (even though those citizens had deprived themselves of their right).¹**

[4] Admittedly, if men could be so deprived of their natural right that subsequently they could do nothing, except by the will of those who held the supreme Right, then the latter would be permitted to reign over their subjects most violently and with absolute impunity. But I believe it could never occur to anyone to think that. So it must [30] be granted that each person reserves to himself many things of which he remains the master, things which therefore depend on no one’s decision but his own.

[5] Nevertheless, to understand rightly how far the right and 'power of the state extend, we must note that its 'power is not limited [III/202] to what it can compel men to do from fear, but extends to absolutely everything it can bring men to do in compliance with its commands. It’s obedience which makes the subject, not the reason for the obedience. [6] For whatever reason a man resolves to carry out the commands of the supreme 'power, whether because he fears [5] punishment, or because he hopes for something from it, or because he loves his Country, or because he has been impelled by any other affect whatever, he still forms his resolution according to his own judgment, notwithstanding that he acts in accordance with the command of the supreme 'power.

[7] So we must not infer simply from the fact that a man does something by his own judgment, that he does it by his own right, [10] and not by the right of the state. For since he always acts by his own judgment and decision—both when he is bound by love and when he is compelled by fear to avoid some evil—if there is to be a state and a right over subjects, political authority must extend to everything which can bring men to decide to yield to it. So whatever a subject does which [15] answers to the commands of the supreme 'power—whether he’s been bound by love, or compelled by fear, or (as indeed is more frequent) by hope and fear together, whether he acts from reverence (a passion composed of fear and wonder) or is led by any reason whatever—he acts by the right of the state, not his own right.

[8] This is also established as clearly as possible from the fact that [20] obedience concerns not so much the external action, as the internal action of the soul. So that person is most under another’s control who resolves wholeheartedly to obey all the other’s commands. Consequently, that ruler has the greatest authority who reigns over the hearts of his subjects. But if those who were most feared had the greatest authority, [25] then the subjects of Tyrants would surely have it. For they are most feared by their Tyrants.²

[9] Though hearts cannot be commanded in the same way tongues can, still hearts are to some extent under the control of the supreme 'power, which can bring it about in many ways that most men believe, love, and hate whatever it wants them to.³ [10] Even if these things [30] don’t happen by the direct command of the supreme 'power, still experience abundantly testifies that they often happen by the authority of its power and by its guidance, i.e., by its right. So without any intellectual incoherence, we can conceive men who believe, love, hate, disdain, or are overcome by any kind of affect whatever, solely in accordance with [III/203] the right of the state.

[11] In this way we conceive the right and 'power of the state to be ample enough. Still, it will never be so great that those who hold it have an absolute power to do whatever they wish. I believe I’ve already shown this clearly enough. [12] I’ve said that I don’t intend to show [5] how a state could be formed so that it might, in spite of everything, always be preserved securely. However, to achieve what I want to, I’ll note the things divine revelation once taught Moses to this end. Then we’ll consider the development of Hebrew history.⁴ From this we’ll see the main things the supreme 'powers ought to grant to subjects, for [10] the greater security and advantage of the state.

[13] Both reason and experience teach, as clearly as can be, that the preservation of the state depends chiefly on the loyalty of its subjects, on their virtue, and on their constancy of heart in carrying out commands. But it’s not so easy to see how they must be led so that they [15] constantly maintain their loyalty and virtue. [14] All men, whether they rule or are ruled, tend to prefer pleasure to difficult work.⁵ Those who’ve experienced how changeable the mentality of the multitude is almost despair about it. They’re governed only by affects, not by reason. [20] Rushing headlong toward everything, they’re easily corrupted either by greed or by extravagant living. [15] Everyone thinks that he alone knows everything, and wants everything to be done according to his mentality. He thinks a thing fair or unfair, permissible or impermissible, just to the extent that he judges it brings him profit or loss. From love of esteem, he disdains equals, and will not put up with being ruled by [25] them. From envy for the greater praise or better fortune someone else receives—these things are never equal—he wishes the other person ill, and is delighted when bad things happen to him.

There’s no need to go over all this. [16] Everyone knows how it goes—a disgust with the present, a craving to make fundamental changes, uncontrolled anger, a scorn for poverty—these affects lead men to wickedness. Everyone knows how much they fill and disturb men’s hearts.

[30] To prevent all these things, and to establish the state so that there’s no place for fraud—to establish things so that everyone, whatever his mentality, prefers the public right to private advantage, this is the task, this is our concern.⁶ [17] Though the necessity of solving this problem has compelled people to invent many solutions, we’ve never reached the point where a state is not in more danger from its own citizens [III/204] than from its enemies, and where the rulers don’t fear their citizens more than their enemies.

[18] Witness the Roman Republic, unconquerable by its enemies, but so often conquered and wretchedly oppressed by its own citizens, particularly in the civil war between Vespasian and Vitellius. On this, see Tacitus, at the beginning of book IV of his Histories, where he [5] describes how pitiful the city was [after Vespasian defeated Vitellius].⁷

[19] And as Curtius says at the end of book viii, Alexander viewed a formidable reputation in an enemy with fewer qualms than he did one in a citizen. He believed his greatness could be destroyed by his own citizens [but that the greater those he conquered, the brighter would be his own fame].⁸ Fearing what his fate might be, he implored his friends to

Make me secure from treachery within and domestic plots, and I shall [10] face unafraid the crises of war and of Mars. Philip was safer on the battlefield than in the theater.⁹ Often he avoided the hand of the enemy, but he could not escape that of his own people. If you think about the deaths of other Kings, you will find more killed by their own people than by the enemy.¹⁰*

[20] That’s why, when Kings assumed the rule in earlier times, to [15] make themselves secure they tried to persuade people that they were descended from the immortal Gods. They thought that if only their subjects (and everyone else) didn’t look on them as equals, but believed them to be Gods, they would easily surrender to them, and willingly submit to their rule.

[21] So Augustus persuaded the Romans that he was descended [20] from Aeneas, who was believed to be the son of Venus and one of the Gods. He wanted to be worshipped in temples, with sacred images, by flamens and priests.¹¹*

[22] Alexander wanted to be hailed as the son of Jupiter. He seems to have done this as a matter of policy, not out of pride, as his reply to Hermolaus’ reproaches indicates:

[25] It was almost enough to make me laugh when Hermolaus asked me to reject Jupiter, by whose oracle I’m recognized [as his son]. Are even the answers of the Gods in my 'power? He offered me the name of son. To accept it [note this well] was hardly unhelpful to the affairs we’re engaged in. Would that the Indians also believed me to be a God. For wars depend on reputation, and often a false belief has been just as effective as a true one.¹²*

[30] In these few words he shrewdly proceeds to persuade the ignorant that he is what he pretends to be, and at the same time hints at the reason for the pretense.

[23] Cleon also did this in the speech he gave, trying to persuade the Macedonians to flatter the King by agreeing.¹³ For after he gave an appearance of truth to the pretense, reciting the praises of Alexander with admiration, and recounting his merits, he proceeded to point out [III/205] the utility of this arrangement:

The Persians, in fact, are not only pious, but also prudent to worship their Kings as Gods. For the majesty of the state is the guardian of its safety . . .

And in the end he concludes

when the King goes in to a banquet, I will prostrate my body on the ground. Everyone else ought to do the same, especially those who are wise.

[5] [24] But the Macedonians were too prudent for that. Only men who are complete barbarians allow themselves to be deceived so openly and to turn from subjects to slaves, of no use to themselves. But others have had better success than Cleon in persuading men that Majesty is sacred, God’s representative on earth, that it has been established, not by men’s vote and consent, but by God, and that it is preserved and [10] defended by God’s particular providence and aid.¹⁴ [25] And in this way Monarchs have devised other means to secure their rule, which I’ll omit. To get to the conclusions I want to reach, I shall, as I’ve said, note and weigh only those things divine revelation once taught Moses for this purpose.¹⁵

[15] [26] We’ve already said in Ch. 5 [§§26–31] that after the Hebrews escaped from Egypt, they were no longer bound by any law to another nation, but were permitted to institute new laws for themselves, as they pleased, and to occupy whatever lands they wanted to. For after they’d been freed from the intolerable oppression of the Egyptians, and were not attached to any mortal by any contract, they regained their [20] natural right to do anything they could. Each of them could decide again whether he wanted to keep it, or to surrender it and transfer it to someone else.

[27] When they’d been placed in this natural condition, they decided to transfer their right only to God, not to any mortal. That was Moses’ advice and they had the utmost trust in him. Without further delay [25] they all promised equally, in one voice, to obey all God’s commands absolutely, and not to recognize any other law except what he would establish as law by Prophetic revelation. [28] And this promise, or transfer of right, to God, was made in the same way as we’ve conceived it to be [30] done in ordinary society, when men decide to surrender their natural right. For by an explicit covenant and an oath they freely surrendered their natural right and transferred it to God, without being compelled by force or terrified by threats.¹⁶*

[29] To make the covenant valid, lasting, and free of any suspicion of deception, God didn’t undertake to give anything to them until after they experienced his wonderful power, by which alone they had been preserved, [III/206] and by which alone they could be preserved in the future (see Exodus 19:4–5). By the very fact that they believed they could be preserved by the power of God alone, they transferred to God all their natural power to preserve themselves, which previously they perhaps had thought they [5] had of themselves. As a result, they transferred all their right.¹⁷

[30] God alone, then, had sovereignty over the Hebrews. By the force of the covenant this [state] alone was rightly called the Kingdom of God, and God was rightly called also the King of the Hebrews. As a result the enemies of this state [were rightly called] enemies of God, and citizens who¹⁸ wanted to usurp his authority [were rightly held] guilty of treason against God’s majesty. And finally, the laws of the state [were rightly called] laws and commands of God.

[10] [31] That’s why in this state civil law and Religion (which, as we’ve shown, consists only in obedience to God) were one and the same thing. The doctrines of Religion were not teachings, but laws and commands. Piety was regarded as justice, and impiety a crime and an injustice. Anyone who failed in Religion ceased to be a citizen. For this [15] alone he was considered an enemy. Anyone who died for Religion was thought to have died for his Country. Absolutely no distinction was made between civil law and Religion.

[32] For that reason this state could be called a Theocracy.¹⁹ Its citizens weren’t bound by any law except the one revealed by God. But all these things consisted more in opinion than in fact. Really the [20] Hebrews retained the right of the state absolutely, as we’ll establish in what follows, from the way this state was administered, which I’ve decided to explain here.

[33] The Hebrews didn’t transfer their right to anyone else, but everyone surrendered his right equally, as in a Democracy, and they [25] cried out in one voice “whatever God says” (without any explicit mediator) “we will do.”²⁰ It follows that everyone remained completely equal by this covenant, that the right to consult God, and to receive and interpret his laws, was equal for everyone. Everyone held the whole administration of the state equally, without qualification. [34] That’s [30] why everyone equally went to God the first time to hear what he wanted to command.

But at that first greeting they were so terrified, so stunned by thunder and lightning when they heard God speak, that they thought their end was near. [35] Full of fear, then, they approached Moses again, saying:

behold, we have heard God speaking in the fire, and there is no reason why we should wish to die; certainly this great fire will consume us; if we hear the voice of God again, we shall certainly die; so you go near [III/207] and listen to everything our God says, and you [not God] shall speak to us; and everything God says to you, we will obey and carry out.²¹

[36] With these words they clearly abolished the first covenant and transferred to Moses, unconditionally, their right to consult God and [5] to interpret his edicts. For here they promised to obey, not (as before) whatever God said to them, but whatever he said to Moses (see Deuteronomy 5, after the Decalogue, and 18:15–16).

[37] Moses, then, remained the sole promulgator and interpreter of the divine laws, and hence, also the supreme Judge, whom no one could judge. He was the sole representative of God among the Hebrews, i.e., [10] he had the supreme majesty, since he alone had the right to consult God and to give God’s replies to the people, and to compel the people to carry them out. He alone, I say; for if anyone wanted to preach anything in God’s name while Moses was alive, even though he was a true Prophet, he was still guilty of usurping the supreme right (see Numbers 11:28).²²**

[15] [38] We should note here that even though the people chose Moses, they could not, by law, choose a successor in his place. As soon as they transferred their right to consult God to Moses, and promised unconditionally to regard him as a divine oracle, they completely lost all right, and were obliged to accept as God’s choice whomever Moses chose as [20] his successor. [39] If he had chosen someone who would have, as he did, the whole administration of the state, i.e., the right to consult God alone in his tent, and hence the authority to make and repeal laws, the right to decide about war and peace, to send ambassadors, establish judges, choose a successor, and administer absolutely all the functions of the supreme 'power, the state would have been nothing more than [25] a monarchy. There wouldn’t have been any other difference [between it and other monarchies] except that generally a monarchic state is governed according to a decree of God hidden even from the Monarch himself, whereas the state of the Hebrews would have been governed (or ought to have been governed) in a certain way by a decree of God revealed only to the Monarch.

[40] This difference does not diminish the Monarch’s dominion and [30] right over everyone. On the contrary, it increases it. As for the people of each state,²³ each is equally subject and ignorant of the divine decree. For each depends on what the Monarch says and only from that does he understand what is permissible and impermissible. Moreover, the people are not less, but more subject to the Monarch insofar as they believe that he commands nothing but what has been revealed to him by a decree of God.

[III/208] [41] But Moses chose no such successor. Instead he left the state to be administered by his successors in such a way that it couldn’t be called either popular, or aristocratic, or monarchic, but Theocratic. For one person had the right of interpreting the laws and of communicating God’s replies, and another had the right and 'power to administer the [5] state according to the laws already explained and the replies already communicated. On this see Numbers 27:21.²⁴**

[42] For a better understanding of these matters, I’ll explain in an orderly way how the whole state was administered.

First, the people were ordered to build a dwelling-place,²⁵ which was, as it were, the court of God, i.e., of the supreme Majesty of that state. [10] This dwelling-place was to be built, not at the expense of one person, but from the resources of the whole people, so that the dwelling-place where God was to be consulted would be subject to the control of the community.

[43] [Next,] the Levites were chosen as the courtiers and administrators of this divine court.²⁶ Aaron, Moses’ brother, was chosen the chief of these and, as it were, second to God the King. The law prescribed that his sons would succeed to his position. As nearest to God, he was [15] the supreme interpreter of the divine laws, who gave the people the replies of the divine oracle, and finally, who petitioned God on behalf of the people. [44] If he [Aaron or whichever his successors was the chief priest] had had, along with these [powers of interpreting the law], the right to command [that the laws be obeyed], he would have needed nothing else to be an absolute monarch. But he was barred from this [by Numbers 27:18–21], and the whole tribe of Levi, without exception, was so deprived of the command of the whole community [20] that it did not even have its own share [of the land] along with the other tribes, which it would possess by right, and from which it could at least live. But [Moses] established that the tribe of Levi would be fed by the rest of the people, in such a way that it would always be held in greatest honor by the common, ordinary people, as the only tribe dedicated to God.²⁷

[45] Next, an army, formed from the rest of the twelve tribes, was [25] commanded to invade the domain of the Canaanites, to divide it into twelve parts, and to distribute it to the tribes by lots. For this task twelve leaders were chosen, one from each tribe. These leaders, along with Joshua, and the high priest Eleazar, were given the right to divide the lands into twelve equal parts and to distribute them by lot.²⁸

[46] Joshua was chosen supreme commander of this army [Numbers [30] 27:15–21]. He alone had the right to consult God in new matters, but not (as Moses had) alone in his tent, or in the tabernacle. He did this through the high Priest, who alone received God’s replies. [Joshua was also granted] the right to establish the commands God communicated to him by the priest, to compel the people to obey them, to devise and use means of carrying them out, to choose from the army as many as he wanted, and whom he wanted, and to send [III/209] ambassadors in his own name. Absolutely every right of war depended only on his decree.

[47] On the other hand, no one succeeded to his post by any legal prescription; his successor was chosen immediately by God; and this happened only when the necessity of the whole people required it. Otherwise all matters of war and peace were administered by the leaders of the Tribes, as I shall soon show.

[5] [48] Finally, [God] commanded everyone from age twenty to age sixty²⁹ to take up arms for military service, and to form armies only from the people, armies which swore loyalty not to the commander, nor to the high priest, but to Religion or God. These armies, then, were called the armies or hosts of God, and God, among the Hebrews, was [10] called the God of hosts. That’s why in great battles, on whose outcome either the victory or the defeat of the whole people depended, the ark of the covenant used to go in the middle of the hosts so that the people, seeing their King, as it were, present among them, would fight with the utmost force.³⁰

[49] From Moses’ commands to his successors we easily infer that [15] he chose administrators, not rulers, of the state. For he gave no one the right to consult God alone and when he wanted to; so he gave no one the authority he himself had of making and repealing laws, deciding concerning war and peace, and choosing administrators both of the temple and of the cities. All these are functions of someone holding sovereignty.

[20] [50] For the high priest had the right to interpret the laws and give God’s replies, but only when asked by the commander, or the supreme council, or the like, not (as Moses had) whenever he wanted to. On the other hand, the supreme commander of the army and the councils could consult God when they wanted to, but could receive God’s replies [25] only from the high priest. So in the mouth of the priest God’s dictates were not decrees, as they were in Moses’ mouth, but only replies. Only when they had been accepted by Joshua and the councils, did they have the force of a command and decree.

[51] Again, this high priest, who received God’s replies from God, didn’t have an army, and didn’t have the command by law. On the other [30] hand, those who had the right to possess lands did not have the right to make laws. The high priest—this was as true of Aaron as it was of his son Eleazar—was indeed chosen by Moses. But when Moses was dead no one had the right to choose the priest. As the law prescribed, the son succeeded to the father.³¹

[52] The commander of the army was also chosen by Moses, and he took on the role of commander, not from the right of the high priest, [III/210] but from the right of Moses, given to him. Therefore, when Joshua died, the priest did not choose anyone in his place, nor did the leaders [of the tribes] consult God concerning a new commander, but each one retained Joshua’s right over the army of his own tribe, and collectively they had that right over the army as a whole.

[53] It seems there was no need of a supreme commander except [5] when they had to fight a common enemy with their combined forces. This in fact happened mainly in the time of Joshua, when they did not yet all have a fixed place and when everything was subject to the control of the community. But after all the tribes divided among themselves the lands they possessed by right of war, and those they were still under [10] orders to possess,³² and everything was no longer everyone’s, by that very fact the reason for a common commander ceased, since by that division the different tribes had to be considered not so much fellow citizens as allies. [54] In relation to God and Religion, of course, they had to be regarded as fellow citizens. But in relation to the right one [15] had against another, they were only allies, almost in the same way as the Sovereign Federated States of the Netherlands are (if you discount the common temple).³³ For dividing common property into shares is just each person’s possessing, alone now, his share, and everyone else’s surrendering the right they had to that share.

[55] That’s why Moses chose the leaders of the tribes,³⁴ so that after [20] the command was divided each leader would have responsibility for his own share, i.e., the responsibility for consulting God through the high priest about the affairs of his own tribe, for commanding his own army, for founding and fortifying cities, for establishing judges in each city, for attacking the enemy of his own particular state, and of administering all matters of war and peace without exception. Nor were the leaders [15] bound to recognize any other judge except God,³⁵** or a prophet whom God had explicitly sent. Otherwise, if he defected from God, the others were obliged, not to judge him as a subject, but to attack him as an enemy who had annulled the assurance of the contract.

[56] We have examples of this in Scripture. When Joshua died, it was [30] the children of Israel, not a new supreme commander, who consulted God. When it was understood that the tribe of Judah had to attack its enemy first of all, that tribe alone contracted with Simeon that their combined forces would attack each one’s enemy [in turn]. The rest of the tribes were not included in this contract (see Judges 1:1–3), but each one waged war separately against its own enemy (as is related in [III/211] this chapter), and received into subjection and allegiance whomever it wished, even if it had been commanded not to spare anyone, under any condition of a covenant, but to exterminate everyone. Because of this sin they were indeed censured, but no one called them to judgment.³⁶ It was not for this reason that they began to wage war against one [5] another and some began to meddle in the affairs of others.

[57] On the other hand, [the other tribes] attacked the Benjaminites as enemies, because they had offended them and broken the peace accord in such a way that none of their allies could securely have ties of hospitality with them.³⁷ When the other tribes had done battle with the Benjaminites three times, and were finally victorious, they slaughtered everyone alike, the guilty and the innocent, by the right of war. [10] Afterward, repenting too late, they grieved at what they had done. [58] These examples completely confirm what we have just said about the right of each tribe.

But perhaps someone will ask: who chose the successor to the leader of each tribe? About this I can infer nothing certain from Scripture [15] itself; I conjecture, though, that since each tribe was divided into families, whose heads were chosen from the elders of the family, the one among these who was senior succeeded by law to the position of leader. [59] For Moses chose from the Elders seventy assistant judges, who formed a supreme council with him [Numbers 11:16–25]; those who had the administration of the state after Joshua’s death are called elders [20] in Scripture [Joshua 23:2, 24:1, 31]; and finally, among the Hebrews nothing is more frequent than to understand by elders judges. I think everyone knows this.

[60] But for our purposes it doesn’t much matter whether we can know this with certainty. It’s enough that I’ve shown that after Moses’ death no one had all the functions of the supreme commander. These [25] things didn’t all depend on the decision of one man, or of one council, or of the people. Some were administered by one tribe, and others by the other tribes, with equal right for each one. From this it follows most clearly that after Moses’ death the state was neither monarchical, nor aristocratic, nor popular, but, as we have said, Theocratic: I) because [30] the temple was the royal house of the state and, as we’ve shown, it was the only reason why all the tribes were fellow citizens; II) because all the citizens had to swear allegiance to God as their supreme judge; he was the only one they had promised to obey absolutely in everything; and finally, III) because, when it was necessary to appoint a supreme commander over everyone, only God chose that commander. [61] Moses explicitly proclaims this to the people in the name of God in Deuteronomy [III/212] 18:15, and the choices of Gideon [Judges 6:11–40], Samson [Judges 13:2–25], and Samuel [1 Samuel 3] are witnesses to it. So we ought not to doubt that the other faithful leaders were also chosen in a similar way, even if the historical narrative concerning these leaders does not establish it.

[62] Now that we’ve explained [what sort of state the Israelites had [5] after the death of Moses], it’s time to see how far this way of constituting the state could moderate people’s hearts, and restrain both the rulers and the ruled, so that the ruled did not become rebels and the rulers did not become Tyrants.

[63] Those who administer the state or have the rule always try to cover up whatever crimes they commit under the appearance of [10] legality and to persuade the people that they’ve acted honestly. They can easily do this when the whole interpretation of the law depends only on them. For there’s no doubt that in this way they acquire the utmost freedom to do whatever they want, whatever their appetite urges. On the other hand, if someone else has the right to interpret the laws, they lose that great freedom; the same thing happens if the [15] true interpretation [of the laws] is so evident to everyone that no one can doubt it.

[64] This makes it clear that giving the whole right to interpret the laws to the Levites (see Deuteronomy 21:5) took a great opportunity for crimes away from the Hebrew leaders. The Levites had no administration of the state and no share [of the land] with the other [tribes]. Their [20] whole fortune and honor depended on their interpreting the laws truly.

Again, the people as a whole were commanded to gather every seven years in a certain place, where the Priest instructed them in the laws. Moreover, each one was commanded to read and reread the book of the law by himself, continuously and with the utmost attention (see [25] Deuteronomy 31:9[–13] and 6:7).

[65] So if the leaders wanted the people to cherish and honor them, they had to be very careful (if only in their own interest) to administer everything according to the prescribed laws, and to see that everyone was well aware of this. If they did that, the people would venerate them as the ministers of God’s sovereignty and as God’s agents. If not, they [30] could not escape their subjects’ greatest hatred. For there is, as a rule, no hatred like Theological hatred.³⁸

[66] To these means of restraining the unbridled lust of the Leaders, we may add another which was very important:

[I.] the army was formed from all the citizens (all from age twenty to age sixty, with no exceptions) and the Leaders could not hire any foreign soldiers as mercenaries.

[III/213] [67] I say that this was very important because it’s certain that Leaders can oppress the people only with an army to whom they pay a salary, and that they fear nothing more than the freedom of soldiers who are their fellow citizens, who by their excellence, hard work, and readiness to shed their own blood, bring about the freedom and glory of the state.

[5] [68] That’s why, when Alexander had to fight Darius a second time, and he heard Parmenio’s counsel, he didn’t reproach Parmenio, who had given the counsel, but Polypercon, who was taking [Parmenio’s] side. As Curtius says (IV, xiii, [1–10]), he didn’t dare to reprimand Parmenio again, when he had recently criticized him more sharply than he wished [Curtius IV, xi, 10–15], and he could not suppress the [10] freedom of the Macedonians—which, as we’ve said [xvii, 19], he was very afraid of—not until after he’d increased the number of soldiers who had formerly been captives far beyond the number of Macedonian soldiers.³⁹ Then, he was able to indulge his weak character, long restrained by the freedom of the best citizens.

[69] If this freedom of citizen soldiers holds in check the leaders [15] of a human state, who are accustomed to take for themselves all the praise for victories, how much more must it have restrained the Hebrew leaders, whose soldiers fought, not for the glory of their Leader, but for the glory of God, and joined battle only when they had received an answer from God.

[70] A second means of restraining the Hebrew Leaders was that

[20] [II.] they were all joined only by the bond of religion.

So if any of them defected from their religion and began to violate the divine right of each person, the rest could consider him an enemy and rightly silence him.

[71] A third means of restraint was

[III.] the fear of a new Prophet.

For if someone whose life was provably commendable showed by [25] certain accepted signs that he was a Prophet, by that very fact he (like Moses) had the supreme right to command, in the name of a God revealed to him alone, not (like the leaders) in the name of a God consulted only through the priest. [72] There’s no doubt that such men could easily draw an oppressed people to them, and [even] by slight signs persuade them of whatever they wanted to.

On the other hand, if the leader was administering things properly, [30] he could take precautions in time. The Prophet would first have to submit to his judgment, so that the leader could examine whether his life really was commendable, whether he had certain and indubitable signs of his commission, and finally, whether what he wanted to say in the name of God agreed with the accepted teaching and ordinary laws of the country. But if either the signs were not sufficient or the teaching [III/214] was new, he could rightly condemn him to death.⁴⁰ Otherwise, he was accepted only by the authority and evidence of the leader.

[73] The fourth means was that

[IV.] the Leader was not superior to the others in nobility or in hereditary right; the administration of the state was his only because of his [5] age and excellence.

[74] Finally, we note that

[V.] the Leaders and the whole army could be swayed no more by a desire for war than by a desire for peace.

As we’ve said, the entire army was made up of citizens.⁴¹ So the same men administered both the affairs of war and those of peace. Whoever [10] was a soldier in the camps was a citizen in civilian life; whoever was an officer in the camps was a judge in the court; and whoever was the commander in the camps was the leader in the state. [75] So no one could desire war for the sake of war, but only for the sake of peace, and to protect freedom. As it happened, the Leader abstained as much [15] as he could from novelties, so that he would not be obliged to go to the high Priest and stand before him in a way contrary to his dignity.

These are the reasons which kept the Leaders within limits. [76] Now we must see how the people were checked. The foundations of the state show this very clearly. For anyone who attends to them even casually will immediately see that these arrangements had to produce [20] in the hearts of the citizens a love so special that the hardest thing for them to think of would be betraying their country or defecting from it. On the contrary, everyone had to be moved so strongly that they would suffer death⁴² rather than live under foreign rule. [77] After they transferred their right to God, they believed that their kingdom was God’s kingdom, that they alone were God’s children, and that the other [25] nations were God’s enemies. As a result, they felt the most savage hatred toward the other nations—a hatred they also believed to be pious (see Psalm 139:21–22).⁴³ Nothing could be more repugnant to them than swearing loyalty to a foreign power and promising obedience to it. They could imagine nothing more disgraceful or detestable than betraying [30] their country, the kingdom of the God they worshipped.

[78] Indeed, they considered it disgraceful even for someone to live outside his country, because they believed that their country was the only place they could practice the worship of God they were always bound to. They considered only that land sacred; they thought the others were unclean and profane. [79] That’s why, when David was [III/215] forced to live in exile, he complained to Saul in this manner: If it is men who incite you against me, they are cursed, because they cut me off from walking in the heritage of God, but say: Go, and worship foreign Gods [1 Samuel 26:19]. What’s especially notable here is that it was also for this reason that no citizen was condemned to exile. For one who sins deserves punishment, indeed, but not disgrace.

[5] [80] So the love of the Hebrews for their country was not a simple love, but piety. Their daily worship so encouraged and fed this piety, and this hatred of other nations, that [these affects] had to become a part of their nature. For the daily worship was not only completely different from that of the other nations (which made them altogether individual and completely separated from the others), but also absolutely contrary [10] to it. [81] That daily condemnation [of foreigners] had to produce a continual hatred; no other hatred could be lodged more firmly in their hearts than this. As is natural, no hatred can be greater or more stubborn than one born of great devotion or piety, and believed to be pious. And they did not lack the usual cause which invariably inflames [15] hatred more and more: its reciprocation. For the other nations were bound to hate them most savagely in return.

[82] Reason teaches as clearly as possible how much all these things—freedom from human dominion, devotion to their country, an absolute right in relation to all others, a hatred not only permitted, but even pious, regarding everyone as hostile, the particularity of customs and rites—reason, I say, teaches, and experience itself has been a witness, [20] how much all these things would strengthen the hearts of the Hebrews to bear everything with special constancy and virtue, for the sake of their Country. While the city was standing, they could never endure being under the rule of a foreign power. That’s why they frequently called Jerusalem the rebellious city (see Ezra 4:12, 15).

[25] [83] Though the second state, after the Priests took for themselves the right to rule,⁴⁴ was hardly a shadow of the first, it was very difficult for the Romans to destroy it. Tacitus gives evidence of this in his Histories:

Vespasian had broken the back of the Jewish war, except for the siege of Jerusalem, [30] a task made harder and more troublesome because of the mentality of the people and the persistence of their superstition than because adequate forces were available to the besieged for the difficulties they had to endure (II, 4).

[84] But beyond these factors, whose evaluation depends only on opinion,⁴⁵ there was something else very unyielding in this state, which must have been the most important factor to prevent its citizens from thinking of defection or wanting to desert their country: the principle of advantage, the mainstay and life of all human actions. That force was [III/216] exceptionally strong in this state. [85] Nowhere did the citizens possess their property with a greater right than did the subjects of this state, who, with the leader, had an equal share of the lands and fields.⁴⁶ Each one was the everlasting lord of his own share. If poverty compelled [5] anyone to sell his estate or field, it had to be restored to him once again when the jubilee year came.⁴⁷ They instituted other similar practices, so that no one could be alienated from his real property.

[86] Nowhere could poverty be more bearable than where the people had to cultivate, with the utmost piety, loving-kindness toward their [10] neighbor (i.e., toward their fellow citizens), so that God, their King, would favor them. The Hebrew citizens could prosper only in their own country; outside it they faced great harm and dishonor.

[87] Something else helped greatly, not only in keeping the people in their native country, but also in avoiding civil war and removing [15] causes for dispute: no one was subject to his equal; everyone was subject only to God, and loving-kindness and love toward one’s fellow citizen were valued as the height of piety. The hatred they had for other nations, which other nations reciprocated, encouraged this in no small measure.

[88] Especially conducive [to promoting loyalty to their country] was the extreme training in obedience they were brought up with. They were obliged to do everything according to a definite legal prescription. They [20] weren’t permitted to plow as they pleased, but only at certain times and in certain years, and only with one kind of animal at a time.⁴⁸ Similarly, they could only sow and reap in a certain way and at a certain time.⁴⁹ Without exception their life was a continual cultivation of obedience. (On this see Ch. 5, concerning the use of Ceremonies [§§30–31].) [89] To those who had become completely accustomed to it, this regime must [25] have seemed no longer bondage, but freedom. The inevitable result was that no one desired what was denied, but only what was commanded.

To achieve this it seems to have been quite helpful that at certain times of the year they were bound to devote themselves to leisure and joy, not to obey their heart, but to obey God from the heart. [90] Three times a year they had a feast in the presence of God (see Deuteronomy [30] 16[:16]); on the seventh day of the week they had to stop work and devote themselves to leisure [Exodus 35:1–3]; in addition, other times were designated at which honorable acts of joy and feasts were not just granted, but commanded. I don’t think anything more effective can be devised for steering people’s hearts in a certain direction. Nothing wins hearts more than the joy which arises from devotion, i.e., from [III/217] love and wonder together. [91] They couldn’t easily be wearied by the familiar practice of these things, because the worship designated for festive days was rare and varied.

To this we have to add their extreme reverence for the temple, a reverence they always preserved most scrupulously because of the special [5] worship conducted there and the things they were bound to observe before anyone was permitted to go there. To this day they can’t read without great horror about Manasseh’s disgraceful conduct, how he dared to place an idol in the temple itself [2 Kings 21:3–9].

[92] The people also had no less reverence for the laws, which were kept most scrupulously in the inmost sanctuary. So there was no need at [10] all to fear murmuring and prejudices among the people. No one dared to make a judgment about divine matters. They were obliged to obey, without ever consulting reason, in everything they were commanded to do, on the authority of a divine answer received in the temple or of a law established by God.

With this I think I have explained the guiding principle of this state clearly enough, even if briefly.

[15] [93] Now we must ask why the Hebrews so often failed to obey the law, why they were so often subjugated, and why, in the end, their state could be completely destroyed.

Perhaps someone will say that this happened because the people were stiff-necked. But this is childish. Why was this nation more stiff-necked than others? Was it by nature? Surely nature creates individuals, not [20] nations, individuals who are distinguished into nations only by differences of language, laws and accepted customs. [94] Only the latter two factors, laws and customs, can lead a nation to have its particular mentality, its particular character, and its particular prejudices.⁵⁰ So if we have to grant that the Hebrews were more stiff-necked than other [25] mortals, we must ascribe that either to a vice of the laws or to a vice of the accepted customs.

[95] And of course this much is true: if God had wanted their state to be more stable, he would have established its rights and laws differently, and set up another way of administering it. So what else can [30] we say, except that they made their God angry, not only (as Jeremiah says, in 32:31) from the establishment of the city, but ever since the establishment of the laws.

[96] Ezekiel (20:25[–26]) also testifies to this, saying

Moreover, I gave them statutes which were not good, and laws by which they would not live, for I defiled them with their own gifts, by rejecting everything which opened the womb (i.e., the first-born), so that I might destroy them, that they might know that I am Yahweh.⁵¹

To better understand these words, and the reason for the destruction [III/218] of the state, we must note that [God’s] first intention was to hand over the whole of the sacred ministry to the first-born, not to the Levites (see Numbers 8:17). [97] But after everyone except the Levites worshipped the calf [Exodus 32:25–29], the first-born were rejected and defiled, and [5] the Levites were chosen in their place (Deuteronomy 10:8).

The more I consider this change, the more it compels me to burst out in the words of Tacitus: at that time God’s concern was not with their security, but with vengeance [see Tacitus, Histories I, 3]. I cannot wonder enough that there was so much anger in the heavenly heart⁵² that he established the laws, which always aim only at the honor, well-being [10] and security of the whole people, with the intention of taking vengeance on and punishing the people—so that the laws seemed not to be laws, i.e., the salvation of the people, but rather penalties and punishments. [98] For all the gifts they were obliged to give the Levites and priests, as well as the fact that they had to redeem the first-born and give money to the Levites on a per capita basis [Numbers 3:44–51], [15] and finally, the fact that only the Levites were permitted to approach the sacred things [Numbers 16:9–10]—all these things continuously accused them of defilement and rejection.

[99] Again, the Levites constantly had something to reproach them with. Doubtless among so many thousands [of Levites] there were many troublesome, foolish Theologians. As a result the people were [20] anxious to keep an eye on the deeds of the Levites—who were, after all, men—and as happens, to accuse them all because of one’s offense. So there was continual murmuring, and a weariness with feeding men who were idle, envied, and not related to them by blood (especially when food was expensive).

[100] What is so strange, then, if in times of tranquillity, when evident miracles stopped, and there were no men of the most meticulous [25] authority, the people’s spirit, angered and niggardly, began to lose its resolve, so that finally they failed in their loyalty to a form of worship which, although divine, had still been discredited among them and was suspect, and desired a new worship? What is so strange if the Leaders, to get the supreme right of command exclusively for themselves, constantly sought ways to bind the people to themselves, and turn them from the high Priest, and so granted the people everything and [30] introduced new forms of worship?

[101] But if the Republic had been constituted in accordance with [God’s] first intention, the right and honor would always have been equal among all the tribes, and everything would have been arranged most securely. For who would wish to violate the sacred right of their own blood-relatives? What else would they prefer to feeding their own blood-relatives, brothers and parents, from Religious piety? and to being taught the interpretation of the laws by them? and finally, to [III/219] waiting for divine answers from them?

[102] Next, in this way—that is, if the right of administering sacred affairs had been equal among all the tribes—they would have remained much more closely united. Indeed, even if the Levites had been chosen to administer sacred matters, there would have been nothing to be feared, [5] provided that choice had a cause other than anger and vengeance. But as we’ve said, they had angered their God, who (to recall again the words of Ezekiel [20:25]) defiled them with their own gifts, rejecting everything which opened the womb, in order to destroy them.

[103] Moreover, the historical narratives themselves confirm this. As soon as the people began to flourish in tranquillity in the desert, [10] many men, not from the ordinary people, began to be bitter about this choice, and from this they took the occasion to believe that Moses had instituted nothing by divine command, but had done everything according to his own pleasure, because he’d chosen his own tribe before all others, and had given the right of priesthood to his own brother forever. With a great commotion, they approached him claiming that [15] everyone was equally holy and that he was unjustly raised above everyone else.⁵³ [104] He could not quiet them in any way, but when he used a miracle as a sign of his good faith, all the rebels were annihilated [Numbers 16:31–35]. This gave rise to a new and general rebellion of the whole people [Numbers 16:41–50], who believed that the first rebels had been annihilated, not by God’s judgment, but by Moses’s cunning. He finally quieted them after they had been worn out by a [20] great calamity or plague, but in such a way that they all preferred death to life. So at that time it was more that the rebellion had ended than that harmony had begun.

[105] Scripture is a witness to this in Deuteronomy 31:21, where God, after predicting to Moses that after his death the people would defect from divine worship, says this to him: for I know the appetite of this people, and what it is planning today, when I have not yet led it to [25] the land I swore [to give to it]. A little later [31:27] Moses says to the people: for I know your rebelliousness and your stubbornness. If you have been rebels against God while I lived among you, how much more will you be rebels after my death.

[106] And that’s what happened, as everyone knows. That’s why there were great changes, and a great license to do anything, and extravagant [30] living, and negligence, with everything going from bad to worse, until, having often been subjugated, they completely broke away from the divine law, and wanted a mortal king [1 Samuel 8:4–5], so that the royal house of the state would not be the Temple, but the court, and so that the tribes would all remain fellow citizens, not any longer in virtue of divine law and the priesthood, but in virtue of the Kings’ law.

[107] This greatly encouraged new rebellions, and led in the end to the complete ruin of the state. For nothing is more intolerable for [III/220] a King than ruling at someone else’s pleasure and allowing a state within a state.⁵⁴ The first [kings], chosen from the private citizens, were content with the degree of dignity to which they had risen.⁵⁵ [108] But after their sons took possession of the rule by right of succession, they began to gradually change everything, so that they alone would hold [5] the whole right of command. For the most part they lacked this so long as the right over the laws did not depend on them, but on the high Priest, who guarded the laws in the sanctuary and interpreted them to the people. They were bound by the laws, as their subjects were, and could not legally repeal them or make new laws with equal authority.

[Other factors encouraging rebellions:] The law of the Levites treated [10] both the Kings and their subjects as profane, and prohibited them equally from administering sacred matters. Moreover, the whole security of [the king’s] rule depended only on the will of one person, who was seen as a Prophet. [The people] had seen examples of [the king’s dependence on the will of a Prophet]: the great freedom Samuel had to give orders to Saul about everything, and how easily Samuel could transfer the right to rule to David because of one instance of wrongdoing.⁵⁶ So they had [15] a state within a state, and ruled at someone else’s pleasure.

[109] To overcome these obstacles, then, they permitted other temples to be dedicated to the Gods, so that there would be no further consultation with the Levites.⁵⁷ Next, they sought out a number of people who would prophesy in the name of God, so that they might have Prophets whom they could oppose to the true Prophets.⁵⁸

[110] But whatever they tried to do, they could never be granted their [20] wish. For the Prophets, who were prepared for everything, waited for an opportune time: the rule of a successor (which is always precarious as long as the memory of his predecessor is strong). Then they could easily use their divine authority to induce someone hostile to the King and renowned for his virtue to defend divine right and to take legal control of the state, or of a part of it.

[25] [111] But the Prophets weren’t able to make any progress in this way. For even though they removed a Tyrant from their midst, nevertheless, the causes [of tyranny] remained. So all they accomplished was to buy a new Tyrant at the cost of much citizen blood.⁵⁹ There was no end to dissension and civil wars. In fact, the causes for violations of divine right were always the same. The only way they could be removed was [30] by removing the whole state from their midst at the same time.

[112] So now we see how Religion was introduced into the Hebrew Republic, and how its sovereignty could have been everlasting, if the just anger of the lawgiver had permitted it to stay the same. But because this could not happen, in the end it had to perish.

I’ve spoken here only about the first state. [113] The second⁶⁰ was [III/221] hardly a shadow of the first, since [the Hebrew people] were subjects of the Persians, and bound by Persian law. After they acquired their freedom, the High Priests took for themselves the right to rule, by which they obtained absolute control. This created among the Priests an intense desire to rule and to attain the high priesthood. [114] So [5] there was no need to say more about the second state.

But whether the first, insofar as we’ve conceived it to be durable, can be imitated, or whether it’s pious to imitate it as much as possible, will be evident from what follows. [115] Here I should like to note only, as a kind of conclusion, what we have already hinted at above: the things we have shown in this Chapter establish that divine right, [10] or the right of religion, arises from a covenant, without which there is only natural right. So the Hebrews weren’t bound by a religious command to any piety toward nations which weren’t participants in a covenant with them; they were bound in that way only toward their fellow citizens.

1. **[ADN. XXXV] Two common soldiers undertook to transfer the rule of the Roman people, and they succeeded. See Tacitus, Histories, I. [Histories I, xxv, also cited at TP vii, 14. See also TP vi, 6. ALM call attention to a similar passage in Machiavelli, Discourses III, vi, 1. Spinoza will return to this theme in §§8 and 17. Gebhardt places this note in the following sentence, but it seems to attach more logically where I have placed it.]

2. Cf. the aphorism Spinoza quotes from Antonio Pérez in TP vii, 14: “The use of absolute power is very dangerous for kings, very hateful to their vassals, very offensive to God and to nature, as a thousand examples show” (Pérez 1644, 287).

3. Cf. Quintus Curtius VIII, v, 5–6, where Alexander is described as wishing to be, not only called, but believed to be, the son of Jupiter, “as if he could rule men’s minds as well as their tongues” (ALM). Cf. xvii, 22. Spinoza does not claim that rulers are absolutely powerless to control their subjects’ beliefs (as Locke does in his Letter, p. 69), only that their powers to do this are very limited, that there are certain things rulers cannot try to take from their subjects without (as he puts it in the Preface, §31) “great danger to the state.” This view may be influenced by Spinoza’s knowledge of the history of the Jews in Iberia. Cf. iii, 54, and the annotation there. Spinoza will return to this theme in xx, 1–5.

4. Hebraeorum historias et successus. I accept the suggestion in Akkerman 1997 that this is a hendiadys for “development.” As Totaro notes, there’s a similar expression in xviii, 6 (Totaro 667, n. 12).

5. An allusion to Terence, Andria 77–78. Cf. TP vii, 1.

6. Borrowing, once again, from Vergil’s Aeneid vi, 129.

7. The civil war between Vespasian and Vitellius occurred in the year of the four emperors, 69 A.D. Book IV of Tacitus’ Histories begins with a description of the slaughter and looting which followed the defeat of Vitellius.

8. The beginning of this sentence is a virtual quotation from Quintus Curtius VIII, xiv, 46. Spinoza evidently expects his readers to know the passage well enough to complete it, because he ends with an “etc.” What I’ve supplied in brackets completes the quotation.

9. Where he was assassinated by Pausanias. See Diodorus XVI, lciv, 1–3.

10. *See Quintus Curtius IX, vi [24–25]. [Spinoza makes his reference to Curtius in the text.]

11. *Tacitus, Annals I, x. [Spinoza makes his reference to Tacitus in the text.]

12. *Q. Curtius VIII, viii [14–15]. [Spinoza makes his reference in the text. Hermolaus was a young Macedonian nobleman who conspired to assassinate Alexander. When the conspiracy was discovered, Alexander permitted Hermolaus to voice his grievances before having him tortured and executed, along with most of his co-conspirators. See Quintus Curtius VIII, vi–viii. I’ve added the first bracketed phrase from the Loeb translation, for clarity. The second bracketed phrase is Spinoza’s addition, for emphasis.]

13. Cf. Quintus Curtius VIII, v, 5–12. As Curtius describes the events, the purpose of Cleon’s speech (and of Alexander’s policy) was to get the Macedonians to worship Alexander as a god.

14. ALM call attention to a passage in Machiavelli (Discourses I, xi; Wootton 1994, 113–16) which makes a similar comment on the political utility of religion. The theme is also present in Hobbes (Leviathan xii, 12, 20, 21) and in Livy, an important source for both Machiavelli and Hobbes, as the annotations in the cited editions of their works make clear.

15. Reminiscent of Machiavelli’s comment on Moses in ch. vi of The Prince (Wootton 1994, 19).

16. *Exodus 24:7. [Spinoza might also have cited Exod. 19:8 and 24:3 (ALM). The question remains why the covenant was necessary when they were transferring their natural rights to a God who by nature has the right to do all things. Cf. xvi, 3, 55.]

17. In §28 Spinoza said that the Hebrews’ transfer of right to God was made in the same way as when men decide to surrender their natural right to the social order. In the human case the transfer of right is effected by a transfer of power (xvi, 24–25). It’s difficult to see how there can be a transfer of power from man to God, whose omnipotence before the transfer presumably gives him nothing to gain from their surrender. The last two sentences of §29 look like they might be intended to deal with that problem.

18. Quid in Gebhardt III/206/8 is a typographical error, corrected silently in ALM.

19. Spinoza is here echoing a passage in Josephus which argued that the constitution of the Jewish state could be called a theocracy because “it placed all authority and sovereignty in God” (Against Apion II, 165, cited by ALM).

20. Spinoza is evidently referring to Exod. 19:8 (though similar words recur in Exod. 24:3). Moses does act as a mediator in both instances, but the need for him to play that role is not made explicit until Exod. 20:18–21. The question whether it’s possible to make a covenant with God without a mediator was an issue in Hobbes’ Leviathan, discussed in Curley 2004.

21. Spinoza does not immediately say where this quote comes from, and some editors have assumed that he is continuing to quote from Exodus (specifically, 20:18–21). But as the next paragraph indicates, Spinoza has shifted to the account of the covenant in Deuteronomy 5, quoting vv. 24–27 (with some omissions). These verses make his point more clearly than any of the Exodus passages, none of which says explicitly “everything God says to you we will do” (my emphasis). Cf. also xix, 10.

22. **[ADN. XXXVI] In this passage two men are accused of prophesying in the camp. Joshua thinks they should be kept in custody. He would not have done this if everyone had been permitted to give the people divine answers without Moses’ command. But it pleased Moses to absolve them of guilt; he reproves Joshua for urging him to press his royal right at a time when he found his right of ruling so wearying that he preferred dying to ruling alone. This is evident from Numbers 11:14[–15], where he replies to Joshua: Are you hot with anger for my sake? Would that all of God’s people were Prophets! I.e., would that the right of consulting God would return to the people, so that the rule would be with them! So it wasn’t that Joshua didn’t know what was right, but only that he didn’t know what was suitable at that time. That’s why Moses chastised him, as David did Abishai when Abishai advised the king to condemn Shimei to death, Shimei being certainly guilty of treason. See 2 Samuel 19:22–23.

23. That is, of the Hebrew, theocratic monarchy, and other monarchies.

24. **[ADN. XXXVII] The interpreters I’ve had the chance to see translate vv. 19 and 23 of this chapter badly. For Numbers 27:19 and 23 do not mean that he gave him precepts or furnished him with precepts, but that he created or constituted Joshua as the leader. This is common in Scripture. Cf. Exodus 18:23, 1 Samuel 13:15, Joshua 1:9, 1 Samuel 25:30, etc. [Saint-Glain has an expanded version of this note, adding: “The more the interpreters strain to render Numbers 27:19 & 23 word for word, the less intelligible they make it. I’m sure very few people understand its true meaning. For most imagine that in vs. 19 God commands Moses to instruct Joshua in the presence of the Congregation, and that in vs. 23 [Moses] lays his hands on [Joshua] and instructs him. They don’t note that this way of speaking is very common among the Hebrews to declare that the choice of the leader is legitimate and that he is confirmed in his appointment. This is how Jethro speaks when he advises Moses to choose subordinate judges who would assist him in judging the People: if you do this (he says), then God will command you, as if he said that his authority would be firm and that he would be able to last. On this see Exodus 18:23 and 1 Samuel 13:15 and 25:30 and especially Joshua 1:9, where God says to him have I not commanded you, take courage and show yourself a man of heart, as if God said to him is it not I who have made you the Leader; so do not be afraid of anything, for I will be with you everywhere.”]

25. That is, the tabernacle, or mobile dwelling, which the Israelites were instructed to build to serve as a shrine for worship and an oracular source (see Exod. 25–27).

26. Apparently a reference to the establishment of the priesthood in Exod. 27:21–28:5. See the Glossary entry LEVITES.

27. On the special rights of the Levites (and the special limitations of their rights), see Num. 27:12–21, 18:8–32, 35:1–8; Deut. 10:8–9, 18:1–8.

28. Numbers 1–2 describes the formation of the army which was to invade Canaan. The directions for the conquest of Canaan and the division of the land occur in Num. 33:50–35:8.

29. In Num. 1:1–3, God commands Moses and Aaron to enroll “every male from twenty years old and upward, everyone in Israel able to go to war,” without specifying that those over sixty are not required to serve. This formula is repeated frequently in Num. 1 and again in Num. 26:2. It’s unclear where Spinoza gets his upper limit.

30. See Josh. 3:2–6; 1 Sam. 4:3–11.

31. See Exod. 28:41; Num. 20:25–29, 25:10–13.

32. Cf. Josh. 13:1–7.

33. Gebhardt (V, 96–97) comments that Spinoza here assumes a view of the constitutional arrangements in the Dutch Republic characteristic of the Regents Party. On the complex nature of those arrangements, see the entries under “sovereignty in the United Provinces,” in Israel 1995.

34. Num. 34:16–29.

35. **[ADN. XXXVIII] The Rabbis hypothesize that Moses established what they commonly call the Great Sanhedrin. They’re not alone in this. Most Christians, as foolish as the rabbis, agree. Moses did, of course, choose seventy assistant judges, who shared with him responsibility for the republic, because he could not bear the burden of the whole people alone [Num. 11:16–17]. But he never made any law establishing a council of seventy men. On the contrary he commanded that each tribe should establish judges in the cities God had given it, who would resolve disputes according to the laws he had given them [Deut. 1:9–18; but cf. Exod. 18:13–27]. And if it happened that the judges themselves were in doubt about the law, they would go to the high priest (who was the supreme interpreter of the laws) or to a judge to whom they were at that time subordinated (for he had the right to consult the priest), so that they might settle the dispute according to the high priest’s explanation [Deut. 17:12].

But if it happened that a subordinate judge maintained that he was not bound to give judgment in accordance with the opinion of the high priest, which he had received either from the priest himself or from the supreme 'power, he was condemned to death by the supreme judge, whoever he was at that time, who had made him a subordinate judge. See Deuteronomy 17:9. [This might be] either the supreme commander of the whole people of Israel, as Joshua was, or the leader of one of the tribes (who, after the division, had the right to consult the high priest about the affairs of his tribe, to decide about war and peace, to fortify cities, and to appoint judges, etc.), or the king, to whom some or all of the tribes had transferred their right.

To confirm this I could cite many testimonies from the histories, but of many I shall mention only one, which seems to be the main one. When the Shilonite Prophet chose Jeroboam to be king [1 Kings 11:29–39], he thereby gave him the right to consult the high priest and to establish judges, and absolutely every right which Rehoboam kept over his two tribes, Jeroboam obtained over the ten. So Jeroboam could establish the supreme council of the state in his own court with the same right Jehoshaphat could in Jerusalem (see 2 Chronicles 19:8). For it’s certain that Jeroboam, insofar as he was king by God’s command, was not bound by the law of Moses to stand before Rehoboam as a judge. So neither were his subjects, since they were not Rehoboam’s subjects. Much less were they bound to stand before a court in Jerusalem appointed by Rehoboam and subordinate to him.

So in proportion as the Hebrew state was divided, there were many supreme councils in it. Those who do not attend to the varying condition of the Hebrews, but mix their different conditions into one, tangle themselves up in many snares. [For the rabbinic claim concerning the Great Sanhedrin, see Tractate Sanhedrin I, 2a. Gebhardt V, 130, cites Grotius (De imperio summarum potestatum circa sacra) as an example of a Christian author who accepted the rabbinic theory. For a helpful survey of modern discussions, see Mantel 2007.]

36. The Israelites are censured in Judg. 2:1–5 for making covenants with the Canaanites, violating a commandment given in Exod. 34:11–16. Neither of these passages suggests a command to exterminate the Canaanites, though extermination is commanded in Deut. 20:16–18.

37. See Judges 19. In a story reminiscent of Genesis 19, a Levite from Israel, traveling in Judah with his concubine, is given shelter for the night by an old man. The men of the city, members of the tribe of Benjamin, surround the house, demanding that the Levite be given to them for intercourse. The old man and the Levite offer them the concubine instead, whom they rape and leave to die. Judges 20 describes the vengeance the Israelites took on the Benjaminites. Judges 21 describes their reconciliation with the Benjaminites who survived.

38. For more on this theme, see below, §§76–81.

39. See Quintus Curtius X, iii, which describes how, after a mutiny among his Macedonian troops, Alexander entrusted his protection to members of the defeated Persian army.

40. Cf. above, ii, 4–6, citing particularly Deut. 13:1–5. Spinoza has somewhat toughened the requirements for being regarded as a true prophet by emphasizing the leader’s obligation to determine whether the signs of prophecy were sufficient.

41. Machiavelli also favored relying on citizen armies, though on different grounds than Spinoza invokes. Cf. The Prince xii–xiii, and Discourses II, 20. See also TP vi, 10, and vii, 7.

42. Spinoza uses an idiom here which is found in Virgil’s Aeneid I, 219 (ALM).

43. The psalm cited expresses hatred of those who hate God: “Do I not hate those who hate you, O Lord? And do I not loathe those who rise up against you? I hate them with a perfect hatred; I count them as my enemies.” The psalmist does not say explicitly that this hatred is pious. But Maimonides quoted this passage to justify his claim that a Jew is required to hate and destroy anyone who doubts the foundations of the Torah. Cf. Kellner 2004, 16. Some expressions of this attitude may make a modern reader uncomfortable. Ps. 137:8–9 pronounces a blessing on one who pays the Babylonians back for what they did to Israel by seizing their babies and dashing them against the rocks. This issue resurfaces in xix, 29.

44. Cf. below at xvii, 113.

45. A suggests (502, n. 19) that Spinoza has in mind specifically the opinion of Tacitus, who accepts a theory that different nationalities have different mentalities which Spinoza will not accept. See below §§93–94. But Spinoza seems to have in mind the several factors enumerated in §82, not just the one in §83.

46. Spinoza’s language has suggested to some translators that each of the subjects had a share of the land equal to the leader’s, but it seems unlikely that Spinoza intended this. I can find no passage in Scripture which supports it. Totaro cites several examples indicating that in ancient Israel the king was expected to possess more than his subjects. See Totaro 687, n. 114. The system of land distribution did aim at a kind of equity, but what that seems to have meant was that initially land was distributed to tribes, and within the tribes to clans and households, in proportion to their size. See Num. 26:52–56; Josh. 13–21; and ABD III, 1025–30. (The tribe of Levi was an exception.) There were injunctions against the king’s exalting himself above other members of the community, but these seem to be intended mainly to prevent his possessing too many wives and horses (Deut. 17:14–20).

47. On the Jubilee year, see Lev. 25:8ff. and the analysis in ABD III, 1025–30.

48. Perhaps a reference to Deut. 22:10 (Totaro).

49. Perhaps a reference to Deut. 22:9 (Totaro).

50. As Bennett observes, Spinoza tacitly dismisses language as playing any role in the formation of national character. This is surprising given what he had said in vii, 15.

51. Atypically, Spinoza does not give us the Hebrew of the passage he translates here, and Akkerman calls his translation of a key phrase “completely inaccurate” (A 502, n. 22). Indeed, it’s difficult to see how Spinoza gets this translation out of the Masoretic text, which modern translations generally render quite differently. For example, the NJPS translation reads: “I gave them laws that were not good and rules by which they could not live. When they set aside every first issue of the womb, I defiled them by their very gifts—that I might render them desolate, that they might know that I am the LORD.” (A note suggests the possibility of emending the text so that it would have “guilty” instead of “desolate.”) ALM observe that Spinoza may be influenced by Tremellius’s Latin translation (772, n. 76). Totaro has a similar, but more extended, discussion (690–91, n. 126).

I take the central issue about the passage in Ezekiel to be whether the prophet represents God as saying that he commanded the people of Israel to sacrifice their first-born children to him, or whether Ezekiel merely says that at some point the Israelites (incorrectly) thought he had issued such a command. Exod. 13:1–2 and 22:28–29 might be regarded as loci of such a command, but the interpretation of these passages is controversial. Akkerman seems to favor a negative answer to the first question (citing Lev. 18:21–30), and an affirmative answer to the second (citing Ezek. 20:31). He might also have cited Jer. 19:4–6 in favor of this position.

Akkerman’s reading of Ezekiel would probably be dominant among biblical scholars. See, for example, Anchor Ezekiel, 368–69. However, I find Levenson’s arguments persuasive: though Ezekiel regards the sacrifice of the first-born as an abomination, he nevertheless asserts that God commanded it, because this suited his larger purposes. (See Levenson 1993, ch. 1.)

What I find most striking about Spinoza’s treatment of this text is that he doesn’t seem to think it has anything to do with the question of child sacrifice. From his translation and subsequent discussion, it looks as though he thinks Ezekiel did not say that God commanded the sacrifice of the first-born (understanding Exod. 34:20 to call instead for their redemption). He seems to take the bad laws Ezekiel attributes to God to be those rejecting the first-born as priests, and establishing the Levites in their place. This does not seem to be the most natural reading of the text.

52. An allusion to Vergil, Aeneid I, 11 (Wernham).

53. Spinoza is referring to the revolt described in Numbers 16, which initially involved two hundred and fifty Israelite men, said in 16:2 to be “leaders of the congregation, chosen from the assembly, well-known men” (NRSV) or “chieftains of the community . . . men of repute” (NJPS). It is unclear in the text just who is rebelling and for what reason. Modern scholars generally attribute this to an editor’s attempt to combine different traditions. In one members of the formerly dominant tribe of Reuben were struggling to regain their leadership; in the other members of the tribe of Levi who were not Aaronids were protesting the special position of the Aaronid priesthood. For discussion see Kugel 2007, 330–34. The annotation in HCSB is also helpful.

54. imperium in imperio. Gebhardt (V, 99–100) notes the frequent occurrence of this expression in politico-religious controversies in the seventeenth century, citing (among others) passages from Hobbes and De la Court, where the issue is whether religious authorities within a state are juridically independent of the political authority. It occurs in a different context in E III Pref. and TP ii, 6.

55. Referring to Saul and David (ALM).

56. Presumably the one instance of wrongdoing is Saul’s failure to completely exterminate the Amalekites, as commanded by God in 1 Sam. 15:3. Samuel transfers the rule from Saul to David in 1 Sam. 16:13.

57. See 1 Kings 12:26–32 (ALM).

58. Perhaps a reference to the prophets of Baal and Asherah who opposed Elijah in 1 Kings 18.

59. ALM note a strikingly similar passage in De la Court, I, 32, p. 113.

60. See the Glossary entry SECOND STATE. Spinoza here gives an account of the Second Temple Period whose brevity makes it somewhat misleading. He jumps from the era of Persian rule to the revolt of the Maccabees, without mentioning the intervening Hellenistic period. The biblical sources themselves are rather sketchy. See 1 Macc. 1, helpfully annotated in HCSB. Spinoza’s source for the high priest Simon’s assumption of absolute power is probably 1 Macc. 14:25–49, an event not covered in Josephus, his other main source for this history. His verb for that act is usurpare, which I do not here (or in §83) translate by “usurp,” for reasons explained in the Glossary.

[III/221] CHAPTER XVIII

Certain Political doctrines are inferred
from the Republic and history of the Hebrews

[1] Though the Hebrew state, as we’ve conceived it in the preceding Chapter, could have lasted forever, nevertheless no one can imitate [20] it now. Nor is this even advisable. Whoever wanted to transfer their right to God would have to make an explicit covenant with God, as the Hebrews did. So not only would the will of those transferring their right be required, so also would that of God, to whom the right would have to be transferred.¹ [2] God, however, has revealed through his Apostles that his covenant is no longer written with ink, or on stone tablets, but [25] written on the heart, by the spirit of God.² Moreover, such a form of state could be useful, perhaps, only for those who are willing to live by themselves, alone, without any foreign trade, shutting themselves up within their own boundaries, and segregating themselves from the rest of the world. It couldn’t be at all useful for those to whom it’s necessary to have dealings with others. So it could be useful only for a very few people.

[3] Though [the form of this state] can’t be imitated in every respect, [30] still, it had many excellent features, which are at least well-worth noting, and perhaps imitating. Because my intention, as I mentioned [xvi, 36–37; xvii, 12], is not to treat a Republic in detail, I’ll put most of [III/222] those things to one side and note only those which serve my purpose:

First, it is not contrary to God’s Kingship to choose a supreme majesty which has the supreme right of command.

[4] For after transferring their right to God, the Hebrews handed over the supreme right of command to Moses. So he alone had the [5] authority to make and repeal laws in God’s name, to choose the ministers of sacred affairs, to judge, to teach, to punish, and to command absolutely all things to all people. [5]

Second, though the ministers of sacred affairs were the interpreters of the laws, it was still not their function to judge the citizens or to excommunicate anyone.

[10] This was only in the jurisdiction of the judges and the leaders chosen from the people (see Joshua 6:26, Judges 21:18, and 1 Samuel 14:24).³

[6] In addition to these points [about the form of the state], if we attend to the course of Hebrew history, we’ll find others also worth noting, e.g., that

[15] I. there were no sects in their Religion until after the high Priests in the second state had the authority to make [religious] decrees and to handle the affairs of the state.

To make this authority permanent, they took for themselves the right to rule, and in the end wanted to be called Kings.

[7] The reason [why sects arose after the priests acquired this authority] is easy to see. In the first state no [religious] decree could derive its validity from the high Priest, since they had no right to make [religious] [20] decrees, but only to give God’s answers when asked to do so by the rulers or the councils. And for that reason they could not then have any itch to decree novelties, but only to administer and defend familiar and accepted decrees. The only way they could safely preserve their own freedom when the rulers were opposed to them was to preserve [25] the laws uncorrupted. [8] But after they had acquired the 'power to handle the affairs of the state, and had joined the right to rule to that of priesthood, each one began to seek the glory of his own name both in religion and in other matters, determining everything by priestly authority and daily issuing new decrees, concerning ceremonies, the faith, and everything else, decrees they wanted to be no less sacred [30] and to have no less authority than the laws of Moses. [9] The result? Religion declined into a deadly superstition and the true meaning and interpretation of the laws was corrupted.

Another reason: while the priests were trying to get the rule at the beginning of the restoration, to get the ordinary people on their side they gave lip service to everything, approving what the ordinary people [III/223] did, even if it was impious, and accommodating Scripture to their worst customs. [10] Malachi testifies to this in the most explicit terms: after he reproached the priests of his time,⁴ calling them men who despise God’s name [Malachi 1:6], he proceeds to criticize them as follows: [5] The priest’s lips keep 'knowledge safe, and the law is sought from his mouth, because he is God’s messenger; but you have departed from the path, and have made the law a stumbling-block for many; you have corrupted the covenant of Levi, says the God of hosts [Malachi 2:7–8]. And so he goes on to charge them with interpreting the laws as they pleased, and taking no account of God, but only of persons.

[10] [11] But certainly the High Priests were never able to do this so discreetly that the wise did not notice it. So they⁵ claimed, with growing boldness, that they were not bound by any laws except written ones. Otherwise it was not at all obligatory to observe the decrees the Pharisees mistakenly called traditions of their forefathers. As Josephus says in his Antiquities, the Pharisees had their support mainly from the ordinary people.

[15] [12] However that may be, we cannot have any doubt that the flattery of the Priests, and the corruption of religion and of the laws, and the incredible increase in the number of laws gave a very great and frequent opportunity for arguments and disputes, which could never be settled. For where men begin to argue with the fierce heat of superstition, [20] and the magistrate aids one or the other side, they can never be calmed, but must be divided into sects.

[13] The second point worth noting is that

II. the Prophets, as private men, aggravated people more than they corrected them by the freedom with which they warned, reproached, and censured [25] them. On the other hand, when these same people were warned or criticized by their Kings, they were easily set right.⁶

Indeed, the Prophets were often intolerable even to pious Kings because of the authority they had to judge what it would be pious or impious to do, and even to criticize the Kings themselves, if they were bold enough to treat some public or private business in a way which conflicted with the judgment of the Prophets.

[30] [14] King Asa, who, according to the testimony of Scripture, reigned piously [2 Chronicles 14:2, 1 Kings 15:14], put the Prophet Hanani in prison (see 2 Chronicles 16[:10]) because he dared to censure and reproach him freely for the pact he made with the King of Aramaea. Moreover, there are other examples which show that religion derived more harm than good from such freedom [to criticize], not to mention [III/224] that the Prophets’ retention of so much right for themselves was a source of intense civil wars.

[15] It’s also worth noting that

III. so long as the people had sovereignty, they had only one civil war. And even [5] it was completely stamped out. The winners took such pity on the losers that they were careful to restore them to their former status and power.⁷ But after the people, who were by no means accustomed to kings, changed the first form of the state into a monarchical one, there was hardly any end to civil wars, and they engaged in battles so fierce that they surpassed the reputation of all others.

[10] [16] In one battle—this is almost beyond belief—the men of Judah killed five hundred thousand men of Israel;⁸ in another, the men of Israel slaughtered many men of Judah (Scripture does not say how many), seized the King himself, almost destroyed the wall of Jerusalem, and (to show that there was no limit to their anger) completely plundered [15] the Temple itself. Loaded down with enormous spoil taken from their brothers, their thirst for blood satisfied, they took hostages, left the King in a kingdom already almost destroyed, and put down their arms, made secure not by the good faith of the men of Judah, but by their weakness [2 Chronicles 25:21–24].

[17] A few years later, when the men of Judah had rebuilt their [20] strength, they went to war again; and again the men of Israel were the winners, slaughtering a hundred and twenty thousand men of Judah, taking up to two hundred thousand of their women and children captive, and again seizing a great many spoils [2 Chronicles 28:5–15]. Exhausted by these and other battles, related casually in the histories, in the end they fell prey to their enemies.

[25] [18] Next, if we want to consider the times when they were permitted to enjoy absolute peace, we’ll find a great difference. Before they had kings, they often passed forty years [Judges 3:11, 5:31, 8:28]—and once eighty years [Judges 3:30], a greater period than anyone might have expected—harmoniously, without any war, either external or internal. [19] But after Kings got sovereignty, we read that they all waged wars—because people had to fight for glory,⁹ and not (as before) for [30] peace and freedom. The only exception was Solomon, whose virtue, wisdom, could show itself better in peace than in war. Moreover, the deadly lust to rule generally made the path to the throne very bloody.

[20] Finally,

IV. while the people’s rule lasted, the laws remained uncorrupted and were observed more constantly.

For before the kings there were very few Prophets who warned the [III/225] people. But after a King was chosen,¹⁰ there were many at the same time. Obadiah, for example, delivered a hundred prophets from slaughter, and hid them so that they would not be killed with the others [1 Kings 18:4, 13]. And we don’t see that the people were ever deceived by false Prophets until after they gave sovereignty to kings, whom most [5] of them were eager to flatter by agreeing.

[21] Moreover, the people, whose spirit is generally either confident or humble, depending on how things are going,¹¹ easily corrected itself in disasters, turned to God, and revived the laws. In this way it extricated itself from every danger. The kings, on the other hand, whose spirit was [10] always equally elevated and could not be altered without disgrace, clung stubbornly to their vices right up to the final destruction of the city.

[22] From this account we see very clearly:

i) how ruinous it is, both for religion and for the Republic, to grant the ministers of sacred affairs the right to make [religious] decrees or to handle the business of the state; and how much more stable everything [15] is if these people are held in check, so that they don’t give any answers except when asked, and in the meantime teach and put into practice only doctrines which have already been accepted and are very familiar.

[23] [Secondly, we also see clearly]

ii) how dangerous it is to make purely speculative things a matter of [20] divine right and to make laws concerning opinions, which people usually debate about, or can debate about.

For that government which makes it a crime to hold opinions—which each person has a right to hold, a right no one can surrender—is the most violent of all. Indeed, when this happens, what rules most is the anger of the mob.

[24] So Pilate, to defer to the anger of the Pharisees, ordered Christ to be crucified, though he knew him to be innocent.¹² And the Pharisees, to [25] dislodge the rich from their positions of status, began to raise questions about religion, and to accuse the Sadducees of impiety.¹³ Following the Pharisees’ example, the worst hypocrites, stirred up by the same madness (which they call zeal for divine right), have everywhere persecuted men distinguished for their integrity, famous for their virtue, and on that account, envied by the mob—publicly denouncing their opinions and [30] inflaming the savage multitude in their anger against them.¹⁴

[25] It’s not easy to restrain this impudent license, because the deceptive appearance of religion masks it. This is especially true when the supreme 'powers have introduced some sect, in which they themselves do not hold a position of authority.¹⁵ Then they’re not thought of as the interpreters of divine right, but as the followers of a sect, i.e., as people who recognize the learned men of that sect as interpreters of [III/226] divine right. That’s why the authority of the magistrates about these matters is usually not worth much with the mob, whereas the authority of the learned, to whose interpretations they think even kings must submit, is very great.

[26] To avoid these evils, then, the safest thing for the Republic is to locate piety and the practice of Religion only in works, i.e., only in [5] the practice of loving-kindness and justice, and for the rest, to leave everyone’s judgment free. But more of this later [xx, 30–32, 42–46].

[27] [Thirdly,] we see

iii) how necessary it is, both for the Republic and for religion, to grant the supreme 'powers the right to distinguish between what is permissible and what is not.

[10] For if this right to distinguish concerning deeds could not be conceded to the divine Prophets themselves without great harm both to the Republic and to Religion, much less should it be conceded to those who do not know how to predict the future and cannot perform miracles. But I’ll discuss this in detail later.¹⁶

[28] Finally, we see

iv) how fatal it is to choose a Monarch when the people are not accustomed [15] to live under kings, and have laws already established.

For the people will not be able to bear so much control, and the royal authority will not be able to allow the laws and rights of the people to be established by someone else of lesser authority. Much less will the royal authority consider defending them, especially because in establishing them no thought could have been given to the King, but [20] only to the people or the council which thought it had the rule. So if the King defended the former rights of the people, he would seem to be its slave, rather than its master. [29] A new Monarch will strive, with the greatest eagerness, to establish new laws, to transform the rights of the state to his own advantage, and to reduce the people to the point where it cannot take status away from the Kings as easily as it gave it.¹⁷

[25] [30] But here I can’t ignore the fact that

[v] it’s also no less dangerous to remove a Monarch from your midst, even if it’s clear in every way that he’s a tyrant.¹⁸

For a people accustomed to royal authority, and held in check only by that authority, will disdain a lesser authority and mock it. So if the people removes one monarch from their midst, they will have to choose [30] another in his place (as long ago the Prophets had to).¹⁹ And this new monarch will be a tyrant, not because he wants to, but because he must. [31] For how can he look at the hands of the citizens, stained with blood from murdering a king, and see them glorying in their assassination, as in a deed well done, when they have done it only to set an example for him. If he wants to be a King, and does not want to acknowledge the people as the judge of Kings, and his master, or to [III/227] rule at their pleasure, he must avenge the death of his predecessor and set a contrary example for his own benefit, so that the people will not dare to commit such a crime again. [32] But he will not easily be able to avenge the death of the tyrant by killing citizens unless at the same time he defends the cause of the former tyrant, endorses his deeds, and [5] so follows completely in the footsteps of the former tyrant.

That’s how it happens that the people can often change the tyrant, but can never destroy him, or change a monarchic state into another, of a different form.²⁰ [33] The English people have given us a deadly example of this truth, when they sought reasons for removing a monarch from their midst with an appearance of right.²¹ When they had [10] removed him, they were completely unable to change the form of the state. After much blood had been spilled, they reached the point where they hailed a new monarch under another name, as if the whole issue had only been about the name! The new monarch could survive only if he completely destroyed the royal family, killed the king’s friends, or [15] anyone suspected being his friend, and upset the tranquillity of peace, so suitable for generating murmurings, with a war, so that ordinary people, preoccupied with new crises, would turn its thoughts about royal murder in a different direction. [34] Too late the people realized that the only thing they had accomplished for the well-being of their country was to violate the right of a legitimate king and change [20] everything for the worse. So as soon as they could, they decided to retrace their steps; they did not rest until they saw things restored to their original condition.²²

[35] Perhaps someone will object that the example of the Romans shows that a people can easily remove a tyrant from their midst.²³ I myself, however, think this example completely confirms our opinion. For though the Roman people were far more easily able to remove [25] a tyrant from their midst and to change the form of the state—they themselves had the right to choose the king and his successor, and they had not yet become accustomed to obeying kings—rebellious and infamous men, they killed three of the six kings they had before—still all they accomplished was to elect a number of tyrants in place of one, [30] tyrants who always had them torn apart wretchedly by both external and internal wars, until in the end the state gave way again to a monarchy, changed only in name, as in England.²⁴

[36] As for the States of Holland, so far as we know they never had Kings, but only counts, to whom the right to rule was never transferred. [III/228] For as the Sovereign States of Holland themselves made generally known in the document they published at the time of the count of Leicester,²⁵ they have always reserved for themselves the authority to remind the counts of their duty, and retained for themselves the 'power to defend this authority of theirs and the freedom of the citizens, to [5] avenge themselves on the counts if they degenerated into tyrants, and to check them in such a way that they could accomplish nothing without the permission and endorsement of the states. [37] From this it follows that the states always had the right of supreme majesty, a right the last count tried to usurp.²⁶ So by no means did they fail in their duty to [10] him when they restored their original state, which had almost been lost.

These examples completely confirm what we have said:

[vi] that the form of each state must necessarily be retained and that it cannot be changed without a danger that the whole state will be ruined.

These are the things I thought worth noting here.

1. Cf. Hobbes, Leviathan xiv, 23, and xviii, 3. I have discussed this and other Hobbesian passages related to the covenant with God in Curley 2004.

2. An allusion to Paul, 2 Cor. 3:3.

3. Though Spinoza was himself subjected to a proceeding, cherem, commonly referred to as excommunication, what that term referred to in the Amsterdam Sephardic community was rather different from what “excommunication” has normally meant in Christian communities. And cherem has a very different meaning in the biblical context. For discussion, see the Glossary entry EXCOMMUNICATION. As ALM note, Spinoza here takes a position on issues controversial in the Protestant milieu of his day. Calvin, for whom excommunication was an important means of church discipline, regarded this as a spiritual power, residing in the church, and completely separate from the right of the sword (Institutes IV, xi, 5). But he also assumed that in Christian societies the civil government had a duty “to cherish and protect the outward worship of God, to defend sound doctrine of piety and the position of the church . . . [and] to form our social behavior to civil righteousness” (Institutes IV, xx, 2). For helpful discussion, see Höpfl 1982. Hobbes thinks the Jews practiced excommunication only after the Babylonian captivity (Leviathan xlii, 20 [OL]). He granted that by commission from Jesus Christian pastors had the power to excommunicate, but argued that without the assistance of the civil power, excommunication “is without effect, and consequently, ought to be without terror” (xlii, 31).

4. Malachi’s time seems to have been the period shortly before Nehemiah’s return, c. 445 B.C.E. (HCSB 1284). So Spinoza is now talking about an earlier period than the one following the Maccabees’ revolt. This seems to be the only place in the Hebrew Bible where the priests are described as God’s messengers.

5. The reference of the pronoun is disputed. Some have thought it possible, and perhaps clear, that Spinoza is accusing the high priests of growing boldness. In that case we might wish to translate crescente audacia by “growing impudence (or audacity).” Cf. ALM, 776; Totaro, 698; Silverthorne-Israel, 232. But I think Shirley was right to take the reference to be to “the wise.” It helps to understand this passage if we realize that the passage in Josephus Spinoza cites is Antiquities XIII, x, 6, and not (pace Gebhardt et al.) XVIII, i, 3.

6. Spinoza will return to this point in xix, 45, as part of his argument for secular control of religion (ALM).

7. Spinoza is presumably referring to the war against the Benjaminites, discussed above (xvii, 57).

8. According to 2 Chron. 13:17. The Chronicler’s numbers do strain credulity. HCSB notes that the total of all U.S. casualties in World War II was about four hundred thousand. IB comments (III, 342–43) that Chronicles “exaggerates numbers and amounts out of all possibility . . . it is not history in our sense of the word at all.” This may be one reason for the hostility toward Chronicles expressed at x, 2.

9. Echoing a theme from the Preface, §10.

10. A decision vigorously opposed at the time by Samuel (1 Sam. 8). Hobbes’ discussion of Samuel’s diatribe against monarchy in Leviathan xx, 16, makes it an explanation of the rights of kings.

11. ALM note an echo of Terence’s Mother-in-law, 380. We might also recall the Preface, §§1–3.

12. Spinoza accepts what the gospels seem agreed on: Jewish responsibility for the death of Jesus. Cf. Matt. 27:11–26; Mark 15:1–15; Luke 23:1–25; John 18:28–19:16. Nowadays this topic is controversial, as a comparison of Brown 1994 with Crossan 1996 will demonstrate. See also Letter 67, IV/287/30–35.

13. ALM (followed by Totaro) cite two passages from Josephus as a likely source for this claim about the conflict between Pharisees and Sadducees: The Jewish Wars II, 8, and The Antiquities of the Jews XVIII, 1. Neither passage seems to me quite satisfactory support for the historical claim Spinoza is making here.

14. Zac (1965, 163n.) argues that Spinoza here has in mind the persecution of the Remonstrants by the Counter-Remonstrants, calling attention to the discussion of the controversy coming up in xx, 41.

15. cujus ipsae authores non sunt. Some have translated this as “of which they themselves were not the authors/founders.” This is possible linguistically, but if Spinoza is thinking of the Remonstrant controversy, the translation in the text seems more likely.

16. The terms here translated “permissible” (fas) and “impermissible” (nefas) in the statement of the third point, make it clear that Spinoza intends the sovereign’s authority to extend to questions of religious right and wrong. His Erastianism has already been announced in xvi, 57ff., and will be developed further in the next chapter.

17. Gebhardt notes that Spinoza’s observations here are aimed at the monarchical ambitions of the Orangist party (V, 101). His analysis is reminiscent of Machiavelli’s Prince v (or Discourses I, 26). Cf. TP v, 7.

18. Gebhardt notes similar observations in Machiavelli (Discourses I, 16, III, 6) and refers us also to TP v, 7, as showing that Spinoza was aware of the similarity (V, 101). Droetto/Giancotti has a helpful treatment of the discussion of tyrannicide in Bodin (Republic II, 5), Grotius (De jure I, iv), and Hobbes (Leviathan xviii).

19. Cf. xvii, 110.

20. An allusion to a slogan in Van Hove 1661, I, iii, 1 (p. 232): mutatio tyranni non tyrannidis ablatio, changing the tyrant does not take away the tyranny. Spinoza will cite this motto again in TP viii, 9 (Wernham).

21. At the end of the English Civil War the victorious parliamentary leaders tried and beheaded Charles I in 1649. During a period of ineffective rule by a Parliamentary Council, Cromwell, the leader of the army during the war, gradually took control, assuming the title of Lord Protector in 1653 but rejecting the title of king.

22. Once again Spinoza invites comparison with Machiavelli (e.g., in Discourses III, 4). But his account of British history in the period after the execution of Charles seems rather misleading. Cromwell survived without destroying the royal family, whose heir returned to the throne in 1660. He did have to put down royalist revolts in Ireland and Scotland, and the war in Ireland was especially bloody. But he died of natural causes in 1658, and was succeeded by his son, who might have ruled longer had he possessed his father’s ability. The war against the Dutch in this period seems to have been motivated primarily by conflicts over trade and a concern that the Dutch not interfere in British politics, not by a desire to distract the people with new crises. (See Firth 1947, Ch. 18) Gebhardt has an interesting discussion (V, 101–3) of the sources which may have helped to form Spinoza’s judgment: De la Court’s Polityke Weegschaal, and a Dutch translation (Historie van zijn Majesteyt, Karel de II) of an ‘ultramonarchist’ English history of the period.

23. Here Spinoza differs from Machiavelli, who held (Discourses I, 17) that the Roman people were easily able to get rid of tyrants when (as under the Tarquins) the people were not yet corrupt, but that after the deaths of Caesar, Caligula, and Nero, the people were too corrupt to return to freedom. ALM have instructive annotation.

24. Apparently a reference to the fact that Augustus was called princeps rather than rex, and Cromwell Lord Protector rather than King.

25. In 1575, the States General of the emerging Dutch Republic offered sovereignty over the Netherlands to Queen Elizabeth, in return for England’s assistance in the revolt against Spain. Elizabeth declined to accept sovereignty, but did offer aid, on the condition that her nominee, Robert Dudley, the Earl of Leicester, be the military and political leader of the Republic, with the title of “governor-general,” and that England be allocated seats in the Council of State. Though this arrangement lasted only until 1587, Israel (1995, 220) has described it as “a formative episode in the history of the Dutch Republic.” The document Spinoza refers to, “A Short Exposition of the rights exercised by the knights, nobles and towns of Holland and West Friesland,” was first published in 1587, and republished in 1650 by Van den Enden (ALM). Gebhardt quotes most of it (V, 104–8). Kossman and Mellink provide an English translation of the whole document (Kossman and Mellink 1974, 274–81).

26. The reference is to Philip II of Spain (Gebhardt V, 109). For more on this, see TP ix, 14, and the annotation there. Grotius had argued for the sovereignty of the States in his De antiquitate Reipublicae Batavicae (ALM), on which see Israel 1995, 421–22.

[III/228] CHAPTER XIX

That the right concerning sacred matters
belongs completely to the supreme 'powers,
and that the external practice of Religion
must be accommodated to the peace of the Republic,
if we want to obey God Rightly

[1] When I said above that only those who have sovereignty have a [20] right to do all things, and that all law depends solely on their decree, I meant not only civil law, but also sacred law. For they must be both the interpreters and the defenders of this law also. I want to note this explicitly here, and to treat it in detail in this Chapter, because a great many people flatly deny that this right concerning sacred matters [25] belongs to the supreme 'powers, and don’t wish to recognize them as the interpreters of divine law.¹ [2] That’s why they assume for themselves a license to censure them, to expose them to scorn, and even to excommunicate them from the Church (as Ambrose once did to the emperor Theodosius).² But in doing this they divide the sovereignty. Indeed, they’re looking for a way to become sovereign themselves, as [30] we’ll see later in this Chapter.

First, though, I want to show that Religion receives the force of law only from the decree of those who have the right to rule, that God has no special kingdom over men except through those who have [III/229] sovereignty, that Religious worship and the exercise of piety must be accommodated to the peace and utility of the Republic, and hence, must be determined only by the supreme 'powers, who must also be its interpreters.

[3] Note that I’m speaking specifically about the exercise of piety and about the external practice of religion, not about piety itself and [5] the internal worship of God, or the means by which the mind is disposed, internally, to worship God wholeheartedly.³ For (as we showed at the end of Chapter 7) each person is his own master with respect to the internal worship of God and piety itself. He cannot transfer that control to anyone else.

[4] Furthermore, I think what I understand here by God’s Kingdom [10] is established sufficiently by Chapter 14. For there we showed that a person fulfills God’s law if he practices justice and loving-kindness according to God’s command. From this it follows that God’s Kingdom exists wherever justice and loving-kindness have the force of law and of a command. [5] I see no difference here whether it’s by the natural light or by revelation that God teaches and commands the true practice [15] of justice and loving-kindness. It doesn’t matter how that practice is revealed, so long as it obtains the supreme right and is the supreme law for men.

[6] Suppose I now show that justice and loving-kindness can acquire the force of law and of a command only from the right of the state. Then since the right of the state belongs only to the supreme 'powers, [20] it will be easy for me to conclude that Religion acquires the force of law only by the decree of those who have the right to rule, and that God has no special kingdom over men except through those who have sovereignty.

[7] That the practice of justice and loving-kindness acquires the force of law only from the right of the state is evident from what we’ve said above. For we’ve shown in Chapter 16 that in the state of nature reason has no more right than appetite, but that both those who live [25] according to the laws of appetite and those who live according to the laws of reason have the right to do whatever they can. [8] That’s why we couldn’t conceive of sin in the natural state, nor of God as a judge punishing men for their sins, but could only conceive that all things [30] proceed according to laws common to the whole of nature, that (as Solomon puts it)⁴ the same outcome happens to both the righteous and the impious, the pure and the impure, and that there is no place there for justice or for loving-kindness. But for the teachings of true reason, i.e. (as we showed in Chapter 4, concerning the divine law), the divine teachings themselves, to have the force of law absolutely, it [III/230] was necessary for each person to surrender his natural right, and for everyone to transfer it either to everyone, or to some, or to one. Not till then did we come to know what justice and injustice, equity and inequity were.

[9] Justice, then, and all the teachings of true reason, without exception [5] (and hence, loving-kindness toward one’s neighbor), acquire the force of law and of a command only by the right of the state, i.e. (by what we showed in the same Chapter), only by the decree of those who have the right to rule. And because (as I’ve already shown) God’s kingdom consists only in the law of justice and loving-kindness, or of true Religion, it follows, as we claimed, that God has no kingdom over [10] men except through those who have sovereignty.

It doesn’t matter, I say, whether we conceive Religion to be revealed by the light of nature or by the Prophetic light. [10] For the demonstration is universal, since religion is the same, and has equally been revealed by God, no matter what way we suppose that men become aware of it. So even for Prophetically revealed religion to have the [15] force of law among the Hebrews, it was necessary for each of them to surrender first his natural right, and for everyone to resolve, according to a common agreement, that they would obey only those commands which were revealed to them Prophetically by God, in exactly the same way as we have shown happens in a democratic state where everyone resolves, by a common agreement, to live only according to the dictate [20] of reason.⁵ [11] And though the Hebrews in addition transferred their right to God, they could do this more in thought than in deed. For really—as we’ve seen above [xvii, 32–36]—they retained the right of command absolutely until they transferred it to Moses. After that he remained king absolutely and only through him did God reign over the Hebrews.

[25] [12] Again, the fact that religion acquires the force of law only from the right of the state also explains why Moses was not able to inflict any punishment on those who violated the Sabbath before the covenant, and hence, while they were still their own masters (see Exodus 16:27). After the covenant (see Numbers 15:36), i.e., after each person surrendered [30] his natural right, the Sabbath acquired the force of a command from the right of the state.

[13] Finally, this is also the reason why revealed Religion ceased to have the force of law when the Hebrew state was destroyed. For we can’t have any doubt that as soon as the Hebrews transferred their right to the King of Babylon, God’s kingdom and the divine right immediately ceased. [14] For by that act they completely abolished the covenant by which they had promised to obey God in everything he told them to [III/231] do. This had been the foundation of God’s kingdom. They could no longer stand by that covenant, because from that time on they were no longer their own masters (as they had been in the wilderness or in their own land), but were under the control of the King of Babylon, [5] whom they were bound to obey in everything (as we showed in Ch. 16).

Jeremiah also explicitly warns them of this: “Take thought for the peace of the city to which I have led you as captives,” he says, “for its welfare will be your welfare” (Jeremiah 29:7).⁶ [15] Because they were captives, they couldn’t look after the peace of that city as ministers of [10] state, but only as slaves,⁷ by showing themselves to be obedient in all things, to avoid rebellions, and by observing the rights and laws of the state, even if they were very different from the laws they had become accustomed to in their own country, etc.

[16] From all these considerations it follows most clearly that among the Hebrews Religion acquired the force of law only from the right of the state. Once the state was destroyed, [religion] could no longer [15] be considered the command of a particular state, but only a universal teaching of reason. “Of reason,” I say, for Universal Religion had not yet come to be known from Revelation. [17] We infer, then, without qualification, that, whether religion is revealed by the natural light or by the Prophetic light, it acquires the force of a command only by the decree of those who have the right to rule, and that God has no [20] special kingdom over men except through those who have sovereignty.

[18] This also follows, and is understood more clearly, from what we said in Ch. 4 [§§22–37]. For there we showed that all God’s decrees involve eternal truth and necessity, and that God cannot be conceived as giving laws to men like a prince or a lawgiver. [19] Hence, the divine [25] teachings, whether revealed by the natural light or by the Prophetic light, don’t get the force of a command directly from God, but must get it from (or by the mediation of) those who have the right to rule and make decrees. It’s only by their mediation that we can conceive God as reigning over men and directing human affairs according to justice and equity.

[30] This is also confirmed by experience itself. [20] We don’t find any traces of divine justice except where the just rule. Otherwise (to repeat again the words of Solomon),⁸ we see that both the just and the unjust, the pure and the impure, get the same result. Indeed, this has caused doubts about divine providence among a great many people who thought that God reigns directly over men and directs the whole of nature to [III/232] their use.

[21] Therefore, since both experience and reason establish that divine law depends only on the decree of the supreme 'powers, it follows that they must also be its interpreters. We’ll now see in what way this is true. It’s time for us to show that external religious worship and every [5] exercise of piety must be accommodated to the peace and preservation of the republic, if we want to obey God properly. Once we’ve demonstrated this, we’ll easily understand how the supreme 'powers are the interpreters of religion and piety.

[22] It’s certain that piety toward a person’s country is the supreme [10] piety he can render. For if the state is destroyed, nothing good can remain, but everything is at risk. Only anger and impiety rule, and everyone lives in the greatest possible fear. From this it follows that you can’t do anything pious to your neighbor which doesn’t become impious if some harm to the republic as a whole follows from it. Conversely, you can’t do anything impious to anyone which shouldn’t be ascribed [15] to piety if it’s done to preserve the republic.⁹

[23] So, if someone quarrels with me and wants to take my tunic, it’s pious to give him my cloak also [Matthew 5:40, Luke 6:29]. But when one judges that this is harmful to the preservation of the Republic, it is, on the contrary, pious to call him to judgment, even if he’s to be condemned to death. That’s why Manlius Torquatus is honored: because [20] he valued the well-being of the people more than piety toward his son.¹⁰

[24] Since this is so, it follows that the well-being of the people is the supreme law.¹¹ All laws, both human and divine, must be accommodated to this. But since it’s the duty of the supreme 'power alone to determine what’s necessary for the well-being of the whole people [25] and the security of the state, and to command what it has judged to be necessary, it follows that it’s the duty of the supreme 'power alone to determine in what way each person must devote himself to his neighbor in accordance with piety, i.e., in what way each person is bound to obey God.

[30] [25] From these considerations we understand clearly in what way the supreme 'powers are the interpreters of religion, and again, that no one can obey God rightly if he does not accommodate to the public advantage the practice of piety by which everyone is bound, and hence, if he does not obey all the decrees of the supreme 'power. [26] For since we are bound by God’s command to cherish everyone, without exception, in accordance with piety, and to harm no one, it follows that no one is permitted to aid one person at the expense of another, much less [III/233] at the expense of the whole state. So, in keeping with God’s command, no one can cherish his neighbor in accordance with piety, unless he accommodates piety and religion to the public advantage. [27] But no private person can know what is useful to the republic except by the decrees of the supreme 'powers, who are the only ones whose job it is [5] to treat public business. Therefore, no one can practice piety rightly, nor obey God, unless he obeys all the decrees of the supreme 'power.

[28] This is also confirmed by practice. For if the supreme 'power has judged someone punishable by death or an enemy—whether a citizen or a foreigner, a private person or someone who has command [10] over others—it is not permissible for any subject to give aid to that person. So though the Hebrews were told that each person should love his neighbor as himself (see Leviticus 19:17–18), nevertheless they were bound to inform the Judge of anyone who had broken the law (see Leviticus 5:1 and Deuteronomy 13:8–9),¹² and to kill him if he was [15] judged to be punishable by death (Deuteronomy 17:7).

[29] Again, for the Hebrews to be able to preserve the freedom they had acquired, and have absolute control over the lands they occupied, it was necessary (as we’ve shown in Ch. 17 [§§76–81]) for them to adapt religion only to their own state, and to separate themselves from the other nations. Therefore it was said to them: love your neighbor and hate [20] your enemy (Matthew 5:43).¹³ [30] But after they lost their sovereignty and were led into captivity in Babylon, Jeremiah taught them to look after the welfare (even) of that city to which they had been led as captives.¹⁴ And after Christ saw that they were to be dispersed throughout the whole world, he taught them that they should treat absolutely everyone [25] with piety. All these things show, with utmost clarity, that religion was always adapted to the advantage of the republic.

[31] Suppose someone asks now “By what right could Christ’s disciples, who were private men, preach religion?” I say they did this by right of the 'power they’d received from Christ over unclean Spirits [30] (see Matthew 10:1). [32] At the end of Ch. 16, I explicitly warned that everyone is bound to keep faith even with a Tyrant, except someone to whom God, by a certain revelation, had promised special aid against the Tyrant. So no one is allowed to take this as an example, unless he also has the 'power to perform miracles. This is also clear from the [III/234] fact that Christ told his disciples that they shouldn’t fear those who kill the body (see Matthew 10:28). [33] If he’d said this to everyone, the state would be established in vain, and that saying of Solomon—my son, fear God and the king (Proverbs 24:21)—would have been impious. [5] That’s far from true. So it must be confessed that the authority Christ gave his disciples he gave to them only, and that others cannot take them as an example.

[34] I won’t pause to discuss the arguments of my opponents,¹⁵ by which they claim to separate sacred right from civil right, and contend that the supreme 'power possesses only the latter, whereas the universal [10] church possesses the former. Those arguments are so frivolous they don’t deserve to be refuted. [35] One thing, though, I can’t pass over in silence: how wretchedly they’re deceived when they try to confirm this seditious opinion (if I may be excused for speaking rather harshly)¹⁶ by appealing to the example of the high Priest of the Hebrews, who previously possessed the right of administering sacred matters—as if [15] the Priests had not received that right from Moses. As we’ve shown above, he kept the supreme authority for himself alone, and they could also be deprived of that right by his decree. [36] For he himself chose not only Aaron, but also his son, Eleazar, and his grandson, Phinehas, and gave them the authority to administer the priesthood.¹⁷ Afterward [20] the Priests kept this authority, but in such a way that they seemed to be representatives of Moses, i.e., of the supreme 'power. For as we’ve already shown [xvii, 38], Moses did not choose any successor to the sovereignty, but distributed all his functions so that his successors seemed to be his deputies, who were administering the state as if the king were absent, not dead.

[25] [37] In the second state the Priests held this right absolutely, after they had acquired the right to rule along with the priesthood. So the right of the priesthood always depended on the edict of the supreme 'power, and the Priests didn’t have the right of priesthood unless they also had the right to rule. [38] Indeed, the right concerning sacred matters was absolutely in the possession of the Kings (this will be evident from what I’ll say shortly, at the end of the Chapter), except for [30] one thing: they were not permitted to engage in administering sacred rites in the temple, because everyone who did not descend from Aaron was considered unconsecrated. But this, of course, has no place in a Christian state.

[39] So we can’t doubt that now sacred matters—whose administration requires a special moral character, but does not require membership in a particular family, so that the rulers are not excluded from it as [III/235] unconsecrated—are subject only to the right of the supreme 'powers. Without their authority or permission no one has the right and 'power to administer these things, to choose their ministers, to determine and stabilize the foundations of the Church and its teaching, to judge concerning [5] morals and acts of piety, to excommunicate someone from or receive someone into the Church, nor, finally, to provide for the poor.

[40] These things are demonstrated, not only to be true—we’ve already done that—but also to be most necessary to the preservation of religion itself, and to that of the republic. For everyone knows how [10] highly the people value the right and authority regarding sacred matters, and how much weight everyone attaches to the utterances of the one who has it. So we can say that the person who has this authority has the most powerful control over their hearts.

[41] Anyone who claims to take this authority away from the supreme 'powers is trying to divide the sovereignty. This will necessarily give [15] rise to quarrels and disagreements which can never be restrained, as happened before between the Kings and Priests of the Hebrews. Indeed, anyone who wants to take this authority away from the supreme 'powers is trying (as we’ve already said) to make himself sovereign. [42] For what can the supreme powers decide, if this right is denied to them? [20] Certainly nothing concerning war and peace, nor any other business, if they are bound to wait for the opinion of someone else, who is to tell them whether what they judge to be advantageous is pious or not. On the contrary, everything will happen according to the decree of that person who has the right of judging and deciding what is pious or impious, sacrilegious or not.

[43] Every age has seen examples of this. I’ll discuss only one, which [25] is a paradigm for all.¹⁸ Because this right was conceded unconditionally to the Roman Pontiff, after a while he gradually began to get all the Kings in his 'power, until he rose to the peak of sovereignty. Afterward the monarchs, and especially the German Emperors, could do nothing to diminish his authority even the slightest bit. On the contrary, [30] what they did increased it many times. [44] But this thing which no Monarch could do, either with iron or with fire, Ecclesiastics could do just by the might of their pens. From this example we can easily see the force and power of this authority, and see how necessary it is for the supreme 'powers to reserve it for themselves.

[45] But if we want to consider the things noted in the preceding [III/236] Chapter, we’ll see that this [right of the supreme 'powers in sacred matters] is also conducive, in no small measure, to the increase of religion and piety. For we’ve seen above that though the Prophets themselves were endowed with a divine virtue, still, because they were private men, the freedom they showed in warning, chiding and reproaching [5] people aggravated them more than it corrected them. On the other hand, when the Kings warned or criticized the people, they were easily turned in a different direction. And again, we’ve seen that kings—and with them, almost the whole people—often turned away from religion merely because this right did not belong to them unconditionally. It’s well-known that for the same reason this happened quite often even in Christian states.

[10] [46] But here perhaps someone will ask me: “Who, then, will there be to defend piety with right when those who have sovereignty are willing to be impious? Are those same people even then to be considered its interpreters?” In reply I ask him: “What if the Ecclesiastics—who are also men and private persons, responsible only for taking care of their own affairs—or the others whom he wants to have the right concerning [15] sacred matters—are willing to be impious? Are they even then to be considered its interpreters?”

[47] Indeed, it’s certain that if those who have sovereignty want to follow their own interests, everything will deteriorate, sacred affairs and secular ones, whether the authorities have control over sacred matters or not. But this will happen far more quickly if private men are prepared [20] to defend divine right seditiously. [48] So absolutely nothing is gained by denying this right to the supreme 'powers; on the contrary, it only makes matters worse. For denying them this right makes them necessarily impious (as were the Kings of the Hebrews to whom this right was not absolutely permitted). A harm and evil to the whole Republic, which would have been uncertain and contingent, becomes certain and necessary.

[25] [49] Therefore, whether we consider the truth of the matter, or the security of the state, or the increase of piety, we’re forced to maintain that even divine right, or the right concerning sacred matters, depends absolutely on the decree of the supreme 'powers, and that they are its interpreters and defenders. From this it follows that those people [30] are ministers of the word of God who teach the people piety by the authority of the supreme 'powers, as it’s been accommodated, by their decree, to the public advantage.

[50] What remains now is to indicate the reason why there’s always been a dispute about this right in Christian states, although, so far as I know, the Hebrews never quarreled about it. Certainly it could seem very unnatural that there’s always been a question about something so [III/237] evident and necessary, and that the supreme 'powers never had this right without controversy, indeed, never had it without great danger of rebellions and harm to religion. [51] Undoubtedly, if we could not assign any definite cause for this, I might be easily persuaded that everything [5] I have shown in this Chapter is only theoretical, or, an example of that kind of speculation which could never have any use.

But anyone who considers the origins of the Christian religion will find the cause of this completely clear. [52] It was not kings who first taught the Christian religion, but private men who were accustomed for a long time—against the will of those who had sovereignty and [10] whose subjects they were—to address meetings in private Churches, to establish and administer sacred offices, to manage everything by themselves, and to make decrees without any concern for the sovereign.

[53] Moreover, when religion began to be introduced into the state, after many years had passed, it was Ecclesiastics who had to teach the [15] Emperors this religion, as they had defined it. That’s why they were easily able to succeed in being recognized as its teachers and interpreters—and moreover, as the pastors of the Church, and as it were, the deputies of God. And the Ecclesiastics looked out very well for their own interests by prohibiting marriage to the supreme ministers of the Church and the supreme interpreter of religion, so that afterward Christian Kings would not be able to take this authority for themselves.¹⁹

[20] [54] Furthermore, they had increased the doctrines of Religion to such a great number, and confused them so much with Philosophy, that the supreme interpreter of Religion had to be a supreme Philosopher and Theologian, and had to have time for a great many useless speculations, which can fall to the lot only of private men who have abundant leisure.²⁰

[25] [55] But among the Hebrews the situation was very different. For their Church began at the same time their state did, and Moses, who had the rule absolutely, taught the people religion, ordained sacred ministries, and chose the ministers for them [cf. xix, 36]. That’s why royal authority was valued so highly among the people, and why the [30] Kings had such a great right concerning sacred matters. [56] For though no one after Moses’ death had absolute sovereignty, still the ruler (as we’ve already shown)²¹ had the right to make decrees both about sacred matters and about all others. From then on, to be taught religion and piety, the people were no more bound to go to the Priest than to the supreme Judge. (See Deuteronomy 17:9, 11.)

[III/238] [57] Finally, though the Kings did not have a right equal to that of Moses, still almost the whole system and selection of the sacred ministry depended on their decision. For David organized the whole process of building the Temple (see 1 Chronicles 28:11–12 etc.), and then chose from all the Levites 24,000 to have charge of the temple services, and [5] 6,000 from whom Judges and officers were chosen, 4,000 gatekeepers, and finally, 4,000 to play on instruments. (See 1 Chronicles 23:4–5.) [58] Next he divided them into units (whose leaders he also chose) so that each unit would perform its functions in its own time, taking turns with the others. (See 1 Chronicles 23:6.) Similarly he divided the [10] priests into as many units.

[59] But so that I don’t have to recount all these things separately, I refer the reader to 2 Chronicles 8:13, where it is said that the worship of God, as Moses had established it, was administered in the temple according to Solomon’s command, and in v. 14, that he (Solomon) established units [15] of priests for his ministries, and of Levites, etc., according to the command of the man of God, David. And finally, in v. 15 the Historian testifies that they did not depart from the command imposed by the King on the priests and Levites in any respect, not even in administering the treasures. From all this, and from the other histories of the Kings, it follows with utmost clarity that the whole practice of religion and the whole sacred ministry [20] depended entirely on the King’s command.

[60] But when I said above that the Kings did not have, as Moses did, the right to choose the high priest, or to consult God directly, or to condemn the Prophets who prophesied to them during their lifetime, I said this only because the Prophets had the authority to choose a new [25] King, and forgive regicide, but not because they were permitted to call the King to judgment, or had a legal right to act against him, if he dared to do something against the laws.²²** [61] So, if there had been no Prophets who, by a special revelation, could safely grant forgiveness for regicide, they would have had a complete right over absolutely all matters, both sacred and civil. [62] Hence, today’s supreme 'powers, who [30] have no Prophets and are not bound by law to accept any (for they are not subject to the laws of the Hebrews), have this right absolutely, even if they are not celibate; and they will always retain it, provided only that they do not allow the doctrines of Religion to be increased to a great number or to be confused with the sciences.

1. Early in the seventeenth century the Dutch Republic was torn apart by a bitter controversy between the Remonstrants and the Counter-Remonstrants. The primary issue involved questions of grace and predestination, but the parties also disagreed over the proper role of the state in religious matters, with the Remonstrants advocating the state’s authority in the appointment of ministers, the calling of synods, and the resolution of religious disputes, and the Counter-Remonstrants advocating a policy which gave the church the right to operate independently of the state. In evaluating Spinoza’s support for the Remonstrant position it’s important to realize that both parties accepted the status of the Dutch Reformed Church as the publicly supported religion of the Republic, membership in which was required of those holding public office. The difference was that the Remonstrants did not wish, as their opponents did, to require strict adherence to Calvinist teachings for the ministers and members of the church. See Israel 1995, 421–32; Nelson 2010, ch. 3; and Voogt 2009.

2. According to a story in de Voragine’s thirteenth-century Legenda aurea (kept alive in seventeenth-century paintings by Rubens and Van Dyck), in 390 Ambrose, Bishop of Milan, refused communion to Theodosius until the emperor did penance for the massacre of five thousand rebellious citizens in Thessalonica. In fact, it seems, this is indeed a legend. On that occasion Ambrose behaved more diplomatically. (See Drake 2000, 441–48.) The story conflates what happened in 390 with an incident in 388 when a mob, led by the local bishop and a group of monks, destroyed a synagogue in Callinicum. Theodosius ordered that the rioters be punished, and the bishop be made to pay for rebuilding the synagogue. Ambrose challenged this order, arguing that it was no crime to burn a synagogue (“a site of perfidy, a house of impiety, a refuge of madness, which God himself has condemned”) and that it would violate the offenders’ religious liberty if they were made to rebuild the synagogue. This was his ground for refusing the emperor communion. See Ambrose 2005, 95–123. Calvin approved Theodosius’ act of submission, though it’s unclear that Ambrose’s action met his criteria for legitimate excommunication. Cf. Institutes IV, xii, 7, with IV, xi, 6.

3. A standard Erastian qualification of the state’s rights in matters of religion. See Grotius 1647, III, 1; and Hobbes, Leviathan xxvi, 41; xl, 2; xlii, 11.

4. A recurring theme in Ecclesiastes (e.g., 2:14b–15, 7:15, 8:14, 9:1–3), whose attribution to Solomon Spinoza typically accepts, though in x, 5, where he might have been expected to discuss the question of authorship, he does not defend the attribution. Perhaps he prefers to leave the traditional attribution standing because he wants to invoke, in favor of potentially controversial propositions he wishes to see accepted, the authority of a king noted for his wisdom.

5. Cf. xvii, 33–36. Both Exod. 19:7–8 and Deut. 5:27 represent the covenant at Mount Sinai as involving the people’s promising obedience.

6. The Jewish people have often taken Jeremiah’s letter to the captives in Babylon (Jer. 29:4–23) as a guide to their proper conduct in the Diaspora. Cf. SC, Jer. 29:4ff. Jeremiah, though, prophesied an exile limited to seventy years, not permanent exile. Zac (1965, 159; 1979, 149) argued forcefully that Spinoza takes the passage in Jeremiah out of context, that it does not show that the covenant with God was abolished when the people went into captivity, or that they were obliged to change their religion in their new state. Calvin used this text to defend an apparently unconditional duty of obedience to kings, even if they were “abominable and cruel tyrants” (ALM, citing Calvin, Institutes IV, xx, 27–28).

7. The Latin term used here, servus, is ambiguous between “slave” and “servant.” Though Spinoza clearly thinks of the Babylonian captives as slaves here, it’s not equally clear that he’s right to do so, given his definition of slavery in xvi, 32–33. The SC comment on Jer. 29:5 points out that “the exiles in Babylon did not suffer the restrictions . . . imposed upon Jews in many countries in later times. They were permitted to own land and engage in agriculture.”

8. Eccles. 9:2, previously cited in vi, 33, and xix, 8.

9. Agreeing with Machiavelli, Discourses III, 41 (ALM).

10. Manlius Torquatus here is Titus Manlius Imperiosus Torquatus, who was a consul in 340 B.C.E., and had his son executed for disobeying orders in battle (Cicero, De finibus I, vii, 23). Wernham cites Livy VIII, vii. ALM note that his example was cited also in Sallust (Catiline 9 and 52), Valerius Maximus II, vii, 6, and De la Court, Politieke Discoursen, 60. To this list we may add Machiavelli, Discourses III, 22 and 34.

11. Cf. xvi, 34. By the seventeenth century, this Ciceronian maxim had become a commonplace of political theory (endorsed by, among others, Hobbes in Leviathan xxx, 1).

12. Deut. 13:8–9 does not seem good support for the point Spinoza is making here. It is concerned not with law-breaking in general, but with incitement to idolatry, and prescribes, not merely reporting the offender, but killing him (or her). Deut. 17:7 also seems to be concerned with idolatry (the act itself, not mere incitement).

13. Arguably it’s problematic to cite New Testament criticism of the Old Testament as an authority on the OT teachings. There’s no problem finding OT evidence that the Hebrews were commanded to love their neighbors (including resident aliens and strangers). See Leviticus 19:17–18, 19:34, Deut. 10:18–19. The problem, as ALM note, is to find a passage in which the Hebrews were commanded to hate their enemies. But it would appear that Spinoza thought there were passages in the Psalms which encouraged hatred of other nations. See xvii, 77, and the annotation there. Deut. 30:6–7 seems similar in spirit.

14. Jer. 29:7, discussed above in §§14–15.

15. The primary opponents would have been the orthodox Calvinists (Counter-Remonstrants) who maintained the independence of the spiritual authority (see Renier 1944, I, 45). But as Wernham notes, this was also the position of the Roman Catholic Church. He suggests that Spinoza may have felt it unnecessary to respond to these opponents because he thought Grotius had already done so satisfactorily.

16. Wernham calls attention to Hobbes’ use of similar language in DCv xii.

17. Cf. Exod. 28, 29; Lev. 8–10. But in both passages God seems to make the choice, not Moses.

18. ALM note that Spinoza is here using a traditional argument which can be found in the Remonstrant author Johannes Uytenbogaert, who used it to show that the power of the Pope could be deduced from Counter-Remonstrant theses. See Uytenbogaert 1610, 37ff.

19. Cf. Hobbes, Leviathan xii, 32; xlvi, 33–34; xlvii, 10.

20. Cf. the criticism of mixing philosophy and religion at the end of Ch. xi (§§21–24).

21. Presumably the reference is to xvii, 37–61 (though it’s not clear that the history recounted there supports as extensive an authority for political leaders as Spinoza wishes to argue for in this chapter).

22. **[ADN. XXXIX] Here you should attend especially to what we have said about right in Ch. 16.

[III/239] CHAPTER XX

It is shown that in a Free Republic
everyone is permitted
to think what he wishes and to say what he thinks¹

[1] If it were as easy to command men’s minds as it is their tongues,² [5] every ruler would govern in safety and no rule would be violent. Everyone would live according to the mentality of the rulers; only in accordance with their decree would people judge what is true or false, good or evil, right or wrong. [2] But as we noted at the beginning of Chapter 17 [xvii, 2], it can’t happen that a mind should be absolutely [10] subject to the control of someone else. Indeed, no one can transfer to another person his natural right, or faculty, of reasoning freely, and of judging concerning anything whatever. Nor can anyone be compelled to do this. [3] That’s why rule over minds is considered violent, and why the supreme majesty seems to wrong its subjects and to usurp [15] their rights whenever it tries to prescribe to everyone what they must embrace as true and reject as false, and, further, by what opinions everyone’s mind ought to be moved in its devotion to God. These things are subject to each individual’s control. No one can surrender that even if he wants to.

[4] I confess that someone can get prior control of another person’s [20] judgment in many ways, some of them almost incredible. So though that person does not directly command the other person’s judgment, it can still depend so much on what he says that we can rightly say that to that extent it is subject to his control.³ But whatever ingenuity has been able to achieve in this matter, it has never reached the point where men do not learn from experience that each person is plentifully supplied with his own faculty of judgment and that men’s minds differ [25] as much as their palates do.⁴ [5] Though Moses had gotten the greatest prior control of the judgment of his people, not by deception, but by a divine virtue, with the result that he was believed to be divine, and to speak and do everything by divine inspiration, still he was not able to escape murmuring and perverse interpretations.⁵ Much less are other Monarchs able to do this. If this were conceivable at all, it would be [30] in a monarchic state, not in a democratic one, where all the people, or a great many of them, govern as a body. I think the reason for this is evident to everyone.

[III/240] [6] Therefore, however much the supreme 'powers are believed to have a right over all things, and to be the interpreters of right and piety, they’ll still never be able to stop men from making their own judgment about everything according to their own mentality, and from having, [5] to that extent, this or that affect. It’s true, of course, that by right they can consider as enemies anyone who doesn’t think absolutely as they do in every matter. But what we’re discussing now is not what their right is, but what’s advantageous. [7] I grant that by right they can rule with the utmost violence, and condemn citizens to death for the slightest of [10] reasons. But everyone will deny that they can do these things without detriment to the judgment of sound reason. Indeed, because they can’t do these things without great danger to the whole state, we can also deny that they have the absolute power to do such things. So we can deny also that they can do them with absolute right. For we’ve shown that the right of the supreme 'powers is determined by their power.

[15] [8] If, then, no one can surrender his freedom of judging and thinking what he wishes, but everyone, by the greatest natural right, is master of his own thoughts, it follows that if the supreme 'powers in a republic try to make men say nothing but what they prescribe, no matter how different and contrary their opinions, they will get only [20] the most unfortunate result. Not even the wisest know how to keep quiet, not to mention ordinary people. [9] It’s a common vice of men to confide their judgments to others, even if secrecy is needed.⁶ So a government which denies everyone the freedom to say and teach what he thinks will be most violent. But when a government grants everyone this freedom, its rule will be moderate.

[25] [10] Still, we can’t deny that majesty can be harmed by words as well as deeds. So if it’s impossible to take this freedom away from subjects completely, it’s also disastrous to grant it completely. Our task here, then, is to inquire how far this freedom can and must be granted to each person consistently with the peace of the republic and the right [30] of the supreme 'powers. As I noted at the beginning of Chapter 16, pursuing this inquiry is my main purpose in these final chapters.

[11] From the foundations of the Republic explained above it follows most clearly that its ultimate end is not to dominate, restraining men by fear, and making them subject to another’s control, but on the [III/241] contrary to free each person from fear, so that he can live securely, as far as possible, i.e., so that he retains to the utmost his natural right to exist and operate without harm to himself or anyone else.

[12] The end of the Republic, I say, is not to change men from rational beings into beasts or automata, but to enable their minds and [5] bodies to perform their functions safely, to enable them to use their reason freely, and not to clash with one another in hatred, anger or deception, or deal inequitably with one another. So the end of the Republic is really freedom.⁷

[13] Next, we saw [xvi, 37–38] that to form a Republic this one thing was necessary: that either everyone, or some people, or one [10] person, possessed the whole 'power of making decrees. For since the free judgment of men varies a lot, and everyone thinks he alone knows everything, and it can’t happen that they all think alike and speak with one voice, people could not live peaceably together unless each one has surrendered his right to act solely according to the decision of his [15] own mind.

[14] Each person, then, surrenders only his right to act according to his own decision, but not his right to reason and judge. So no one can act contrary to the decree of the supreme 'powers without infringing on their right. But anyone can think, and judge, and consequently also speak, without infringing on their right, provided just that he only speaks or teaches, and defends his view by reason alone, not with deception, [20] anger, hatred, or an intention to introduce something into the republic on the authority of his own decision.

[15] For example, if someone shows that a law is contrary to sound reason, and therefore thinks it ought to be repealed, if at the same time he submits his opinion to the judgment of the supreme 'power (to whom alone it belongs to make and repeal laws), and in the meantime [25] does nothing contrary to what that law prescribes, he truly deserves well of the republic, as one of its best citizens. But if he does this to accuse the magistrate of inequity, and make him hateful to the common people, or if he wants to nullify the law, seditiously, against the will of the magistrate, he’s just a troublemaker and a rebel.

[16] We see, then, how everyone can say and teach what he thinks, [30] without detriment to the right and authority of the supreme 'powers, i.e., without detriment to the Republic’s peace: viz. if he leaves to them the decision about what’s to be done, and does nothing contrary to their decree (even if he must often act contrary to what he judges—and openly says—is good). He can do this without harm to justice and piety. Indeed, he must do this if he wants to show himself to be just and pious.

[III/242] [17] As we’ve already shown,⁸ justice depends only on the decree of the supreme 'powers. So no one can be just unless he lives according to the decrees received from them. But by what we’ve shown in the preceding Chapter,⁹ the height of piety is what’s done with regard to [5] the peace and tranquillity of the Republic. That can’t be preserved if each person is allowed to live according to the decision of his own mind. So it’s also impious to do something from your own decision contrary to the decree of the supreme 'power to whom you’re a subject. If this were permitted to everyone, it would necessarily lead to the downfall [10] of the state. [18] But really, a subject can’t do anything contrary to the decree and dictate of his own reason so long as he acts according to the supreme 'power’s decrees. It was at the urging of reason itself that he decided, without reservation, to transfer to the supreme 'power his right of living according to his own judgment.

[19] We can also confirm this conclusion by considering practice. [15] For in councils, both of the supreme 'powers and of lesser 'powers, it’s rare for anything to be done by the common vote of all the members; nevertheless everything is done according to the common decision of all, both of those who voted for it and of those who voted against.

[20] But I return to my subject. From the foundations of the republic [20] we’ve seen how each person can use his freedom of Judgment without detriment to the right of the supreme 'powers. From those same foundations we can determine no less easily which opinions are seditious in a Republic: viz. those which, as soon as they are assumed, destroy the agreement by which each person surrendered his right to act according to his own decision.

[21] For example, if someone thinks that the supreme 'power isn’t [25] its own master, or that no one ought to keep his promises, or that each person ought to live according to his own decision, or something else of this kind, directly contrary to the agreement mentioned above, he is seditious. This isn’t so much because of the judgment and opinion as because of the action such judgments involve. For by the very fact [30] that he thinks such a thing, he cancels the assurance he’s given, either tacitly or explicitly, to the supreme 'power.

Other opinions, which don’t involve an act such as breaking the contract, taking vengeance, venting one’s anger, etc., aren’t seditious—except perhaps in a Republic somehow corrupted, e.g., where superstitious and ambitious men, who can’t endure people who think in a manner worthy of a free man, achieve such a great reputation that ordinary people value their authority more than that of the supreme 'powers.

[III/243] [22] Still, we don’t deny that there are some opinions, apparently concerned only with truth and falsity, which are nevertheless stated and spread abroad in an unjust spirit.¹⁰ We’ve already set limits to these in Chapter 15, in such a way that reason still remains free.

[5] [23] Finally, if we attend also to the fact that the loyalty of each person to the Republic, like his loyalty toward God, can be known only from his works, from his loving-kindness toward his neighbor, we’ll have no doubt at all that the best republic concedes to everyone the same freedom to philosophize as we’ve shown that faith does.

[10] [24] I confess, of course, that sometimes such freedom has its disadvantages. But what was ever so wisely instituted that nothing inconvenient could come from it? Anyone who wants to limit everything by laws will provoke more vices than he’ll correct.¹¹ What can’t be prohibited must be granted, even if it often leads to harm. [25] How many evils [15] come from extravagant living, envy, greed, drunkenness, and the like? Still, we endure these things, because the laws’ command can’t prohibit them, even though they’re really vices. How much the more must we grant freedom of judgment, which not only can’t be suppressed, but is undoubtedly a virtue. [26] Moreover, as I’ll show at once, it doesn’t [20] lead to any disadvantages which can’t be avoided by the magistrates’ authority—not to mention the fact that this freedom is especially necessary for advancing the arts and sciences. Only those who have a free and unprejudiced judgment can cultivate these disciplines successfully.

[25] [27] But suppose this freedom could be suppressed, and men so kept in check that they didn’t dare to mutter anything¹² except what the supreme 'powers prescribe. This would surely never happen in such a way that they didn’t even think anything except what the supreme 'powers wanted them to. So the necessary consequence would be that every day men would think one thing and say something else. The [30] result? The good faith especially necessary in a Republic would be corrupted. Abominable flattery and treachery would be encouraged, as would deceptions and the corruption of all liberal studies.

[28] But it simply couldn’t happen that everyone spoke within prescribed limits. On the contrary, the more the authorities try to take away this freedom of speech, the more stubbornly men will resist. Not the greedy, of course, or the flatterers, or the rest of the weak-minded, [III/244] whose supreme well-being consists in contemplating the money in their coffers¹³ and having bloated bellies. Resistance will come instead from those whom a good education, integrity of character, and virtue have made more free.

[29] For the most part men are so constituted that they endure [5] nothing with greater impatience than that opinions they believe to be true should be considered criminal and that what moves them to piety toward God and men should be counted as wickedness in them. The result is that they dare to denounce the laws and do what they can against the magistrate; they don’t think it shameful, but quite honorable, to initiate rebellions and attempt any crime for the sake of this cause.

[10] [30] From what we’ve just established about the dispositions of human nature, it follows that laws made concerning opinions aren’t concerned with the wicked, but with people who act like free men, that they aren’t made to restrain the malicious, but to aggravate honest men, and that they can’t be defended without great danger to the state.

[31] Moreover, such laws are completely useless. The people who [15] believe that the opinions the laws condemn are sound will not be able to obey them. But the people who think the condemned opinions false will accept the laws as privileges, and triumph in them so much that afterward the magistrate won’t be able to repeal them even if he wants to.

[32] To these considerations we add what we deduced from the history of the Hebrews, in Chapter 18, under the second heading [§§13–14].

[20] Finally, how many schisms in the Church have been produced by the magistrate’s willingness to use laws to settle controversies among the learned? If men were not possessed by the hope of getting the laws and the magistrate on their side, of triumphing over their opponents through the general applause of the mob, and of acquiring honors, [25] they’d never contend so unfairly. Their minds would not be excited by such a great frenzy.

[33] It’s not only reason which teaches these lessons; so does experience, with daily examples. Laws of this kind, which command what everyone is to believe, and prohibit people from speaking or writing something contrary to this or that opinion, have often been instituted [30] to make a concession to—or rather to surrender to—the anger of those who can’t endure free minds and who can, by a certain grim authority, easily change the devotion of a seditious mob to madness, and rouse it against whomever they wish to.

[34] How much better it would be to restrain the anger and frenzy of the mob than to pass useless laws, which can be violated only by those who love the virtues and the arts, and to reduce the Republic to [III/245] such narrowness that it can’t endure men who act like free men? [35] What greater evil can be imagined for the Republic than that honest men should be exiled as wicked because they hold different opinions and don’t know how to pretend to be what they’re not? What, I ask, can be more ruinous than that men should be considered enemies [5] and condemned to death, not because of any wickedness or crime, but because they have a mind worthy of a free man? Or that the scaffold, the scourge of the evil, should become the noblest stage for displaying the utmost endurance and a model of virtue, to the conspicuous shame of the majesty?¹⁴ [36] For people who know themselves to be [10] honorable don’t, like criminals, fear death or plead to be excused from punishment; they’re not tormented by repentance for a shameful deed; on the contrary, they think it honorable, not a punishment, to die for a good cause, and glorious to die for freedom. What kind of precedent is established by the death of such men, whose cause those lacking in spirit and weak-minded know nothing about, whose cause the seditious [15] hate,¹⁵ whose cause the honorable love? No one can take any example from this death, except to imitate it, or else to be a flatterer.

[37] So if good faith, not flattering lip service, is to be valued, if the supreme 'powers are to retain their sovereignty as fully as possible, and not be compelled to yield to the rebellious, freedom of judgment must [20] be granted. Men must be so governed that they can openly hold different and contrary opinions, and still live in harmony. There can be no doubt that this way of governing is best, and has the least disadvantages, since it’s the one most compatible with men’s nature. [38] For we’ve shown that in a democratic state (which comes closest to the natural [25] condition) everyone contracts to act according to the common decision, but not to judge and reason according to the common decision. Because not all men can equally think the same things, they agreed that the measure which had the most votes would have the force of a decree, but that meanwhile they’d retain the authority to repeal these decrees when they saw better ones. The less we grant men this freedom [30] of judgment, the more we depart from the most natural condition, and the more violent the government.

[39] The next thing to establish is that this freedom has no disadvantages which can’t be avoided just by the authority of the supreme 'power, and that the only easy way to restrain men from harming one another, even though they openly hold contrary opinions, is by this authority.

Examples are readily available; I don’t need to look far to find them. [III/246] [40] Consider the city of Amsterdam, which, from its great growth and the admiration of all nations, knows by experience the fruits of this liberty.¹⁶ In this most flourishing Republic, this most outstanding city, all men, no matter what their nation or sect, live in the greatest [5] harmony. When they entrust their goods to someone, the only thing they care to know is whether the person is rich or poor, and whether he usually acts in good faith or not. They don’t care at all what his Religion or sect is, for that would do nothing to justify or discredit their case before a judge. Provided they harm no one, give each person [10] his due, and live honestly, there is absolutely no sect so hated that its followers are not protected by the public authority of the magistrates and their forces.

[41] But before, when the religious controversy between the Remonstrants and the Counter-Remonstrants¹⁷ was being stirred up by the Politicians and the Estates of the provinces, in the end it degenerated into a schism, and many examples made it manifest that laws passed to settle [15] Religious controversies aggravate people more than they correct them, that some people take unlimited license from them, and moreover, that schisms don’t come from a great zeal for truth (a source of gentleness and consideration for others), but from an overwhelming desire for control.¹⁸

[42] These examples show, more clearly than by the noon light, that [20] the real schismatics are those who condemn the writings of others and seditiously incite the unruly mob against the writers, not the writers themselves, who for the most part write only for the learned and call only reason to their aid. Again, the real troublemakers are those who want, in a free Republic, to take away freedom of judgment, even [25] though it can’t be suppressed.

[43] With this we’ve shown:

(1) that it’s impossible to take away from people the freedom to say what they think;

(2) that this freedom can be granted to everyone, without detriment to the right and authority of the supreme 'powers, and that everyone can [30] keep it, without detriment to that right, provided he takes no license from that to introduce anything into the Republic as a right, or to do anything contrary to the accepted laws;

(3) that everyone can have this same freedom, and the peace of the Republic still be preserved, and that no disadvantages come from this which can’t easily be limited;

(4) that everyone can have this freedom without detriment to piety; and

(5) that laws made about speculative matters are completely useless.

[III/247] [44] Finally, we’ve shown

(6) not only that this freedom can be granted without detriment to the peace of the Republic, and to the piety and right of the supreme 'powers, but that it must be granted, if we are to preserve all these things.

Where people try to take this freedom away from men, and bring [5] to judgment the opinions of those who disagree with them—but not their hearts, which alone can sin—they make examples of honest men, who seem rather to be martyrs. They aggravate the others more than they terrify them, and move them to compassion, if not to vengeance.

[45] Again, liberal studies and trust are corrupted, flatterers and traitors [10] are encouraged, and the opponents [of liberal studies and trust] exult, because a concession has been made to their anger, and because they’ve made those who have sovereignty followers of the doctrine whose interpreters they are thought to be. That’s how it happens that they dare to usurp their authority and right, and don’t blush to boast that they’ve been chosen immediately by God, and that their own decrees are divine, whereas those of the supreme 'powers are human, and [15] therefore should yield to divine decrees, that is, to their own decrees. No one can fail to see that all these things are completely contrary to the well-being of the Republic.

[46] So here, as above (in Ch. 18), we conclude that nothing is safer for the republic than that piety and Religion should include only the practice of Loving-kindness and Equity, and that the right of the [20] supreme 'powers concerning both sacred and secular matters should relate only to actions. For the rest, everyone should be granted the right to think what he wants and to say what he thinks.

[47] With this I’ve finished the matters I had decided to discuss in this Treatise. It remains only to note explicitly that I’ve written nothing here which I do not most willingly submit to the examination and [25] judgment of the supreme 'Powers of my Country. For if they judge that anything I’ve said is incompatible with the laws of the country or contrary to the general welfare, I wish it unsaid. I know that I’m a man, and may have erred. But I’ve taken great pains not to err, and especially to write nothing which wouldn’t be completely consistent with the laws of my country, with piety and with morals.

1. Another allusion to Tacitus, Histories I, i, 4. Cf. III/12, 247.

2. An allusion to Quintus Curtius VIII, v, 5: Alexander “wished, not only to be called, but to be believed to be, the son of Jupiter, as if he could command minds just as he could tongues” (ALM).

3. Cf. TP ii, 11.

4. Cf. E I App., II/83/5–9.

5. The Pentateuch repeatedly reports the people as complaining about the hardships of their life in the wilderness. Cf. Exod. 15:22–25, 16:2–3, 17:2; Num. 11:1–6, 16:12–14, 20:2–4, 21:4–5. We may have a reminiscence here of ch. vi of Machiavelli’s Prince, where Moses is cited as an example of someone who acquired a new principality by his skill (virtù).

6. Proietti has noted allusions here to various passages in Terence: Adelphi 342, 953; Eunuchus 128 (ALM).

7. ALM note that though Spinoza is highly critical of More elsewhere (TP i, 1), here his thought is reminiscent of Utopia: “The establishment of this republic has one aim above all: that as far as public needs allow, all citizens should be granted as much time as possible from the service of the body to the freedom and cultivation of the mind” (More 1995, 134). Prima facie this conflicts with iii, 20, which makes “the end of the whole social order and of the state . . . to live securely and conveniently.” For the TP, see the annotation at i, 6.

8. Akkerman suggests that the reference is to xvi, 2–6, and xix, 7–8. Perhaps we should add xvi, 42.

9. Cf. xix, 22–24 (A).

10. Probably these opinions would include those which affirm the superiority of revelation to reason (cf. xv, 5ff.). These might be taken to imply that religious authority has precedence over secular, showing clerical resentment of political authority.

11. An allusion to Ovid, Amores III, iv, 11. The theme will recur in TP x, 5 (ALM).

12. An allusion to Terence’s Andria 505, where the words are those of a slave to a master who suspects him of deception. Other allusions to Terence in this passage occur at 243/33 (praefinito loqui, from Hecyra 94) and 244/3 (humanam naturam sic comparatam esse from Heautontimorumenos 503) (ALM).

13. Here the allusion is to Horace’s Satires 1.1, 67.

14. Spinoza uses the term catasta (“scaffold”) only in this passage. I presume he means to refer to any place of execution, and has in mind such examples of heroic resistance as Don Lope de Vera y Alarcon (also known as Judah, the faithful), burned at the stake by the Inquisition in 1644, and celebrated in Menasseh ben Israel’s Hope of Israel (a book Spinoza owned). For further detail, see the annotation to Spinoza’s reply to Albert Burgh, Letter 76, IV/322.

15. Bennett was understandably puzzled by this. Why would rebels hate men willing to die for their beliefs? I think the seditious here are religious leaders who “can’t endure free minds” (above §33) and therefore pressure the civil authorities to take repressive measures which, left to their own concerns, those authorities would not be disposed to take. Spinoza assumes the civil authorities will normally allow greater liberty than the religious leaders would. He would no doubt have cited the history of the Remonstrant controversy as evidence for this view. Cf. xix, 1, above, and xx, 41, below, along with the annotation given in those passages. See also Letter 30, IV/166/27–29, and the critique of the clergy in the Preface to the TTP, §§15–19. He regards the preachers as seditious because they deny the civil authorities rights which are essential to their sovereignty.

16. In his Lettres philosophiques, Voltaire will write similarly about London (6th Letter). In a letter to Mme. de Bernières, he has parallel remarks about Amsterdam and The Hague (7 October 1722). Meinsma thought that we should take Spinoza’s praise of Amsterdam here as devilishly ironic (Meinsma 1983, 375). Recent commentators have generally disagreed, sometimes citing the testimony of contemporary observers to the exceptional freedom of the Dutch Republic. (Cf. Gebhardt V, 115; ALM; Gebhardt/Gawlick; Totaro; Bartuschat 2012.) No doubt Meinsma went too far in his criticism of Amsterdam when he claimed that in no other city in the republic was it so dangerous to express dissent. But Spinoza also goes too far when he claims that all men in Amsterdam live in the greatest harmony. §40 reflects Spinoza’s hopes for Amsterdam, not a realistic assessment of the situation there in his day, as the persecution of Adriaan Koerbagh illustrates.

17. For the history of this controversy see Israel 1995, chs. 18–20.

18. In 1619 the Synod of Dordrecht (Dort) deprived about two hundred Remonstrant preachers of their livings and right to preach. Some were rehabilitated when they complied with a formula of submission. Others were permanently stripped of their pulpits but allowed to live as private citizens, provided they didn’t preach or engage in theological disputes. The rest were banished, on pain of imprisonment if they sought to evade their expulsion. Maybe this doesn’t, compared with the practices of the Inquisition, count as “unlimited license,” but it does suggest a strong desire for control.

Letters, 42–84
JANUARY 1671–LATE 1676

EDITORIAL PREFACE

PEOPLE AND THEMES

In this largest section of the correspondence, Oldenburg returns, after an interval of ten years, to write or receive ten letters (61, 62, 68, 71, 73, 74, 75, 77, 78, and 79), concerned primarily with the TTP and the reaction to it in England. We also meet a new correspondent, a young German nobleman, Ehrenfried Walther von Tschirnhaus, whose questions about the Ethics, which he has seen in manuscript form, give us the most significant discussion of that work in the correspondence. If we count the five letters to or from Schuller as being part of the Spinoza-Tschirnhaus correspondence,¹ Tschirnhaus was the author or recipient of fourteen letters (57, 58, 59, 60, 63, 64, 65, 66, 70, 72, 80, 81, 82, and 83).

Less frequent correspondents are often reacting, with considerable hostility, to the TTP.² Van Velthuysen writes a long, unfriendly critique of that work (Letter 42), to which Spinoza replies irritably (in Letter 43).³ But from Letter 69 it appears that in the end Spinoza and Van Velthuysen came to be on friendly terms.⁴ There’s no evidence that the correspondence between Spinoza and Albert Burgh had such a happy ending. Burgh was a former admirer of Spinoza, who had converted to Roman Catholicism, and wrote him a most intemperate letter (Letter 67), apparently trying to get Spinoza to convert also. It’s difficult to see how any rational person could have thought such an insulting letter would be persuasive. Spinoza’s reply (Letter 76) is sharp, but under the circumstances, a model of restraint.

There is a similar, though markedly more moderate, letter from Nicholas Steno to Spinoza (Letter 67bis). Steno too had been a friend of Spinoza’s when he lived in the Netherlands, and Spinoza apparently had a high regard for his scientific work. He was also a friend of Burgh’s in Florence, around the time of the exchange between Spinoza and Burgh.

The correspondence with Jelles in this period (Letters 44, 48A and B, 50 and 84) is of interest as illustrating the range of friends Spinoza had. On the one hand we have Adriaan Koerbagh, a radical freethinker, whose critique of Christian orthodoxy landed him in the prison where he died. On the other hand, we have Jelles, a very liberal Protestant no doubt, but still firmly committed to Christianity as he understood it. This edition gives a somewhat fuller picture of Jelles’s views than has previously been available in English.

Arguments adduced by Fokke Akkerman (1980, 272–73) make it seem quite likely that the letter addressed to an unnamed friend, which has long appeared last in modern editions of Spinoza’s correspondence, but which, in the OP and NS, was printed as a preface to the Political Treatise, was in fact addressed to Jarig Jelles. This edition proceeds on the assumption that Akkerman is right.

Some of the letters are primarily of biographical interest. Leibniz’s letter to Spinoza (Letter 45) seems intended to strike up a conversation about the TTP. Apparently it did. Unfortunately, all we have of their correspondence, which was apparently more extensive than that, is Letter 45 and Spinoza’s reply (Letter 46), which focuses on the optical questions Leibniz had raised. Similarly, the letter from Fabritius to Spinoza (Letter 47), offering him a chair at the University of Heidelberg, shows that some people in positions of power in Germany thought it would be a good thing if Spinoza held a chair of philosophy there. But why they thought this, and why Spinoza declined the offer, are a mystery. More about these matters below.

The most substantial remaining correspondence is the entertaining exchange about ghosts between Spinoza and Hugo Boxel (Letters 51–56). Perhaps not many readers of this edition will find Boxel’s defense of the existence of ghosts persuasive, but the correspondence does illustrate that Spinoza could be quite patient with correspondents who differed from him very fundamentally.

Oldenburg

In the long time since they last corresponded, Oldenburg’s attitude toward Spinoza has changed. No longer is he encouraging boldness. Now his message to his friend is: caution—your work gives the initial impression of being harmful to religion—on reflection I can see that you are really trying to advance the cause of Christianity—but you need to make your purpose clearer.

For his part Spinoza makes no attempt to prove himself a Christian. But he is acutely sensitive to any suggestion that what he has written might undermine what Oldenburg refers to as “the practice of religious virtue” (Letter 62). He insists that his work doesn’t do that, that his determinism—which he formulates in Letter 75 as the doctrine that everything follows necessarily from the nature of God—is no more a threat to morality than the determinism he finds expressed in the Christian scriptures, such as Paul’s letter to the Romans, where we are all said to be in the power of God as clay is in the power of the potter.⁵

But, Oldenburg asks, won’t this imply that no one will be without excuse in the sight of God, contrary to other things Paul said in Romans?⁶ Spinoza replies that if a man is unable to restrain the desires which make him a danger to others, he may indeed be excusable for being what he is. It would make no more sense for God to be angry with him for that than it would for someone to be angry with a horse for being a horse (Letter 78, IV/327). But Spinoza thinks it’s a mistake to ascribe emotions like anger to God in any case. The essential point is that it doesn’t follow from the causation of the wicked man’s actions that we can’t treat him as we must, if we are to eliminate the danger he poses.⁷

Oldenburg’s concerns about the religious implications of the TTP lead to some useful probing of Spinoza’s views, and shed light on things which in that work Spinoza had left obscure—deliberately obscure, it sometimes seems. In the Editorial Preface to the TTP we considered the clarification which emerges about Spinoza’s statement that God’s wisdom assumed a human nature in Christ. Spinoza rejects any interpretation of this statement which would commit him to the doctrine of the dual nature of Christ, as being both fully human and fully divine.⁸

Oldenburg was upset. The gospels state quite clearly that “the Word became flesh” (John 1:14). The Word was God (John 1:1). So if the gospels speak the truth, God must have become flesh. That is, he must have assumed a human nature. Oldenburg does not attempt to explain how this view is coherent. But he does want to know how Christianity can be true, if these statements in the gospels are not true. What becomes of our redemption, if the son of God, a wholly innocent human sacrifice, wholly innocent in spite of being human, but capable of excruciating suffering in spite of being God, did not atone for our sins by his suffering on the cross (Letter 74, IV/310)? The doctrine that Christ redeemed us from our sins, according to orthodox theology, required the doctrine of the incarnation.

Gradually Spinoza is drawn out. He says that he accepts Christ’s passion, death, and burial literally. If a non-believer had been present, he would have witnessed the same thing believers witnessed. But, he says, he can accept Christ’s resurrection only if it is understood allegorically. If any non-believers had been present at the post-crucifixion appearances, they might not have witnessed what believers witnessed. No doubt the evangelists believed that the resurrection was just as much an historical event as the crucifixion was. But they may have been deceived about this. And they may have been deceived, without harm to the teaching of the gospel.

What is important about the gospel teaching, Spinoza insists, is its moral message: we must love God and our neighbors, we must be just, and we must do whatever else follows from these fundamental commandments (cf. TTP xii, 37). It is not necessary to believe in the literal truth of what the gospels relate as history. It is not necessary, as he puts it in one place, “to know Christ according to the flesh” (Letter 73, IV/308). It is sufficient if we know him according to the spirit (that is, as I would understand it, if we have learned the moral lessons he taught, TTP v, 46, III/79), and believing that God, out of his mercy and grace, pardons men’s sins, are therefore more inspired to love God (TTP xiv, 28, III/178).

Tschirnhaus

In this section of the correspondence we also encounter a new friend, Ehrenfried Walther von Tschirnhaus (1651–1708), who later became an important contributor to mathematics and published an art of discovery—the Medicina mentis (Medicine for the Mind)—which showed Spinoza’s influence.⁹ Oldenburg was responsible for introducing Tschirnhaus to Leibniz, who saw great potential in the young man:

In sending Tschirnhaus to us, you have served me as a friend, for I take great pleasure in his company, and detect in this young man a remarkable intelligence, on which we may base great hopes.¹⁰

Tschirnhaus in turn later tried to act as an intermediary between Spinoza and Leibniz, seeking permission from Spinoza to let Leibniz see a manuscript copy of the Ethics, which Spinoza was then willing to circulate only among a limited circle of trusted friends (Letter 70).

Spinoza’s correspondence with Tschirnhaus is dominated by questions about human freedom, philosophical method, the infinite modes, and the relation between the attributes. Of particular interest are Spinoza’s defense of his position regarding human freedom (Letter 58), his explanation of the distinction he makes between truth and adequacy (Letter 60), his response to Tschirnhaus’s query about our knowledge of attributes other than thought and extension (Letter 64), the examples he gives of infinite modes (also in Letter 64), and his assertion (in Letter 66) that each thing is expressed in infinite ways in the infinite intellect of God, with the infinitely many ideas by which it is expressed constituting infinitely many minds. This claim prompted Tschirnhaus’s reaction that in this way the attribute of thought seems to be regarded as more extensive than the other attributes (Letter 70), a reaction which I believe is appropriate, however much it may seem to violate our preconceptions about the “parallelism” of the attributes.¹¹

Schuller

Schuller (1651–1679) was a compatriot of Tschirnhaus, who had come to the Netherlands in the 1670s to study medicine at the University of Leiden. Eventually he practiced medicine in Amsterdam. On his involvement with Spinoza, and in particular, in the publication of the Opera posthuma, see Steenbakkers 1994, 50–63.

Leibniz

The brief correspondence between Leibniz (1646–1716) and Spinoza, though disappointing philosophically, is of considerable biographical interest. Leibniz writes late in 1671, nearly two years after publication of the TTP, ostensibly to get Spinoza’s opinion about matters in optics, but probably with the ulterior motive of drawing him into a discussion of the TTP. Spinoza replies about the optical issues, and reciprocates receipt of Leibniz’s paper by offering to send him a copy of the TTP. No extant letters between them address any philosophical issues. What we would very much like to know is what Leibniz said to Spinoza about the TTP, when he subsequently wrote to him on that topic (as we know he did), and what Spinoza might have said in reply (if he replied, which we do not know).

Leibniz had read the TTP before he wrote to Spinoza about optics, and believed Spinoza was its author. We know this from his correspondence with other German philosophers. From that correspondence we also know that he was very concerned about that treatise, and hoped someone would refute it, though he himself did not feel up to the task.¹² His real motives for the inquiry about optics were almost certainly to elicit from Spinoza confirmation of his authorship of the TTP and to draw him into an exchange about the argument of that work.

He succeeded, in part at least. By offering to send Leibniz a copy of the TTP, Spinoza tacitly acknowledged authorship. From Letter 70 we know that at some point Leibniz wrote to Spinoza about that work. But we don’t have his letter, and can only speculate about its probable contents.¹³ We also don’t know what Spinoza replied, or even if he replied. We do know, from Letter 72, that though Spinoza was impressed by what he knew of Leibniz, he didn’t quite trust him, denying Tschirnhaus permission to let Leibniz see the manuscript of the Ethics.¹⁴ For his part, Leibniz was evidently quite upset when the OP identified him by name as the author of the innocuous Letter 45.¹⁵ We may lack Leibniz’s correspondence with Spinoza about the TTP because he did not want it to become known. I conjecture that in an attempt to elicit a response from Spinoza, he paid Spinoza compliments on the TTP which he did not wish to be generally known. Chances that the lost correspondence will someday turn up do not seem good.

Fabritius

Another indication of the reputation the TTP brought Spinoza is the invitation he received in 1673 to teach at the University of Heidelberg. Here too, not everything in the correspondence is what it seems to be. In Letter 47 J. Ludwig Fabritius (1632–1697), a Calvinist professor of theology at Heidelberg, writes on behalf of Karl Ludwig, the Elector Palatine, to offer Spinoza a chair of philosophy. The Elector devoted his long reign (1648–1680) to rebuilding a principate devastated by the Thirty Years War, and was attempting to restore his university to its former eminence. Fabritius says he had not known Spinoza until this occasion, and that the Elector is making the offer because others (unnamed) have recommended Spinoza to him very highly.

One person who recommended Spinoza—the only one we know to have done this—claimed later that the Elector and he knew Spinoza only as the author of the exposition of Descartes. Urbain Chevreau, an expatriate French Catholic who advised the Elector on such matters, wrote in his memoirs that he had spoken

very advantageously of Spinoza, although I knew this Jewish Protestant [sic] only through the first and second parts of the Philosophy of M. Descartes. The Elector had this book, and after I had read him a few chapters of it, he decided to invite him to the University of Heidelberg, to teach philosophy there, on the condition that he not dogmatize.¹⁶

That condition—stated in somewhat different terms than we find in Fabritius’s letter¹⁷—would seem necessary only if Spinoza were known to be the author of the highly controversial TTP. There would be much less reason for it if he was known only as the author of the exposition of Descartes. Wolf conjectured, plausibly, that Chevreau’s account of these events may have been “intended to exonerate him from the charge of having recommended a heretic to an important post.”¹⁸

It’s evident from the Leibniz correspondence that there was considerable discussion of the TTP in Germany and that Spinoza’s authorship of it was well-known in academic circles (Curley 1990a). It’s hard to believe that Karl Ludwig and his advisors knew nothing of Spinoza’s having written this work. Wolf thought the Elector may have found the TTP’s “spirit of undogmatic toleration” congenial to his project of bringing about a union of the reformed churches. Walther has suggested that he may have made the offer to Spinoza, because he was the author of the TTP, not in spite of that fact (Gebhardt/Walther 1986, 357–58).

However that may be, it seems overwhelmingly likely that Fabritius made Spinoza an offer which he hoped and believed Spinoza would refuse. He had read the TTP in 1671. So it is not true that he had not known Spinoza previously. At that time he is reported to have said: “I shudder when I see that such unbridled license is allowed to state publicly whatever comes to (one’s) mind, and to blaspheme so openly against the Christian religion itself and Holy Scripture.”¹⁹ His statement to Spinoza that the Elector believed he would not abuse his freedom to philosophize to the disadvantage of the established religion looks as though it’s intended to discourage Spinoza from accepting the offer. Apparently it did.²⁰

Still, the concluding paragraph of Letter 48 is quite surprising. Up to that point Spinoza had seemingly rejected the offer of the chair quite unequivocally, not just because of his concerns about freedom of expression, but also because he was afraid that the obligation to teach would interfere with his research. But then he asks for more time to deliberate! Was he just being polite? Or would he have been more receptive to an offer which gave him a less ambiguous assurance of his freedom to philosophize? Might he have accepted a renewed offer if it had been suitably revised? We can only wonder.

Boxel

After these matters of academic politics are six letters (Letters 51–56) which passed between Spinoza and Hugo Boxel, fondly remembered for their bizarre dialogue about ghosts. Boxel was a legal scholar from Gorinchem, and a political figure of some importance in his native town.²¹ He is sure that ghosts exist and cites a host of authorities to support this proposition. But he wants to know Spinoza’s opinion. Spinoza is skeptical. Boxel has had a bad press, and his position is not easy to take seriously these days. But though he may accept a lot of stories we now reject, he does try to distinguish between credible and incredible sources, emphasizing the ones he thinks are credible. Those inclined to think Boxel just a fool should read Thomas 1971, a classic attempt to explain how such phenomena as astrology, witchcraft, prophecies, ghosts, and fairies, “now all rightly disdained by intelligent persons,” could be “taken seriously by equally intelligent persons” in the early modern period. (See especially ch. 19 in Thomas.)

We have a replay here of the exchange between Spinoza and Blyenbergh in Volume I, though Boxel seems more sophisticated and intelligent than Blyenbergh. One significant feature of the correspondence between them is Spinoza’s rejection, toward the end of Letter 56, of the authority of Plato, Aristotle, and Socrates. He attaches great weight, though, to the opinions of the atomists: Epicurus, Democritus, and Lucretius.

Van Velthuysen

AHW comment (481) that Lambertus van Velthuysen (1622–1685) challenges Spinoza as fiercely as he does precisely because his own position is as close to Spinoza’s as it is. As a defender of the new philosophy (both of Descartes and of Hobbes),²² who nevertheless would not stray as far from orthodoxy as Hobbes did, Van Velthuysen no doubt felt the need to distance himself from Spinoza. But he certainly agreed with one of the TTP’s most Hobbesian conclusions: though individuals have the right to think what they will, the state has the right to determine what the official state church can teach by public authority.

To twenty-first-century readers, this will no doubt seem an illiberal position. But that may betray a lack of historical perspective. In the seventeenth-century Dutch Republic, which had given official status to the Reformed Church during the war for independence from Spain, putting the decision about what that church would teach in the hands of the regents, who were generally more interested in political and economic considerations than in taking a hard line on the fine points of theology,²³ surely led to more freedom of thought and expression than would have been allowed under the only viable alternative, which would have been for a synod of Calvinist ministers to decide what might be taught in the state church.²⁴

Though a friend of the new philosophy, who agrees that it’s important to cast off prejudices which cannot be supported by reason, Van Velthuysen is not nearly as radical as Spinoza. He opposes Spinoza’s necessitarianism, complains that (as he supposes) Spinoza identifies God with the universe,²⁵ is distressed by Spinoza’s rejection of God as a lawgiver, who will dispense appropriate rewards and punishments in the afterlife, and is concerned that Spinoza represents the prophets as using arguments based on false assumptions about God, which they sometimes shared, and sometimes used only because seeming to share their audience’s prejudices would promote good conduct. It is pleasant to learn from Letter 69 that, in spite of their differences, Van Velthuysen and Spinoza eventually established amicable relations.

Burgh

The story of Spinoza and Albert Burgh has a different arc. Burgh (1651–?) was the son of Conrad Burgh, Treasurer General of the Dutch Republic. Reportedly, he studied Latin with Van den Enden, and philosophy at the University of Leiden in the late 1660s. While in Leiden he is supposed to have become a friend and admirer of Spinoza’s. But then, on a visit to Italy in 1673, he converted to Catholicism.²⁶ In Letter 67 he tries to persuade Spinoza to follow the same path. Spinoza’s reply to Burgh (Letter 76) is quite sharp, and quite revealing about his attitude toward the principal organized religions of his day: he thinks they are all false, to one degree or another, but that they all contain ethical teachings which deserve to be encouraged. There is no evidence that they ever reconciled. I’ve analyzed this exchange in Curley 2010.

Steno

Modern editions of the correspondence generally contain the letter (Letter 67bis) Nicholas Steno (1638–1687) addressed to Spinoza—not by name, but as “The Reformer of the New Philosophy”—and published in Florence in 1675. Steno was a Danish scientist, distinguished both in anatomy and in geology. Between 1660 and 1663 he studied physiology at the University of Leiden, where he and Spinoza became acquainted, and where it appears that Spinoza attended some of the dissections for which Steno became famous.²⁷ When he became a Catholic in 1667, he gave up science for religion, took holy orders (1675), and was soon made a bishop (1677). There is a remark by Leibniz, widely quoted, which suggests that he did not approve of Steno’s decision: “From being a great physicist he became a mediocre theologian.”²⁸

There seems to be no reason to think that Steno ever sent his letter to Spinoza, and we have no record of any reply from Spinoza. This may be the reason why it was not included in the OP or NS. Kardel reports that Steno had written his letter and showed it to Burgh before Burgh wrote to Spinoza, and that he decided to publish it only after seeing Spinoza’s reply to Burgh (Kardel 2013, 334–37).

Leen Spruit and Pina Totaro (Spruit/Totaro, 6–26) have recently shown that in the summer of 1677 Steno acquired a manuscript copy of the Ethics—apparently from Tschirnhaus—and that after reading it, he passed it on to the Holy Office in Rome, urging that Spinoza’s works be put on the Index. After investigating, the Church first banned the TTP (November 1678), and then the Ethics, TP, and Letters (February 1679). However, the Church did preserve Steno’s manuscript of the Ethics in the Vatican Library, where Spruit and Totaro recently located it. As a result we have a pleasing irony: we owe our only manuscript copy of Spinoza’s Ethics to an attempt to suppress it.

Jelles

Finally, in this section of the correspondence there are at least three letters Spinoza sent to his friend Jarig Jelles—Letters 44, 48B, and 50—and one Jelles sent to Spinoza (48A). If Akkerman is right (1980, 272–73), as I believe he is, Letter 84 should also be counted among the letters Spinoza wrote to Jelles. Jelles was among the group who arranged for the publication of the Opera posthuma. He also wrote, in Dutch, a preface to those works which was published in De nagelate schriften and which Lodewijk Meyer translated into Latin for the Opera posthuma.

Jelles was a Collegiant, and a close friend of Spinoza, who in 1673 wrote a Profession of Faith which he sent Spinoza for comment, receiving a very brief, but (so far as we can tell) generally supportive response. We don’t have Jelles’s original letter of 1673, or much of Spinoza’s reply. But we do have a version of his Profession which Rieuwertsz published in 1684, after Jelles’s death the preceding year. Because of the length of the 1684 version (174 pp.), editors of Spinoza’s correspondence have never included it in its entirety. But since AHW’s edition of the correspondence (1977), it has become customary to include an abstract of it, now generally known as Letter 48A. I have made a fuller abstract of it than has been available previously.

Jelles has a pretty traditional conception of God as a personal creator, who always acts for the best. (Not very Spinozistic.) He can accept the Johannine idea that Jesus was co-eternal with God, and was God, not holding merely that he had a sanctifying and life-giving spirit in him. (Not very Spinozistic.) He believes that the whole Christian religion is epitomized in two commandments: love God and love your neighbor as yourself. (Very Spinozistic.) He believes that men don’t love God or their neighbors as they should partly because they don’t know God, but partly also because they have irrational desires they can’t control. (Very Spinozistic.) By the time he writes the final version of his Profession he believes that men are born without the love of God which would enable them to overcome their anti-social passions, but not that they are born naturally evil. It appears from Letter 48B that in the 1673 version of his Profession, Jelles held a more traditional position on original sin, but that Spinoza persuaded him to abandon it, in favor of a position to which Spinoza would have had no objection. Finally, Jelles believes that we can be redeemed from sin through Jesus, if his teachings come to guide our lives. (Again, very Spinozistic.)

Given the extent of Spinoza’s probable agreement with the version of the Profession published in 1684, it’s not surprising that he made little objection to the version of 1673. But in evaluating his response, we must keep in mind that we don’t know in any detail how much the letter Jelles sent him in 1673 may have differed from the published letter which has come down to us. At the end of the 1684 version Jelles asked two questions: (i) is there anything in my Profession which you think is false or contrary to Holy Scripture? and (ii) is someone who builds on this foundation, and tries to live according to it, a Christian? Because we don’t know the 1673 version of the Profession—and in particular, don’t know precisely how Jelles formulated the question(s) he posed to Spinoza—it’s impossible to know just what to make of the letter whose contents are reported in the fragments now generally known as Letter 48B. But the material and the questions it poses are extremely interesting.

Graevius

The letter from Spinoza to Graevius (Letter 49), despite its brevity and lack of philosophical content, is of some biographical interest: it shows that Spinoza had some degree of friendly relations with a Utrecht professor who in his correspondence with Leibniz denounced the TTP as “most pernicious” and who had spread the word that Spinoza, identified as a Jew excommunicated from the synagogue because of his wicked opinions, was thought to be its author.²⁹ In spite of this hostility, Graevius does seem to have played a role in arranging for Spinoza’s mysterious visit to the French army headquarters in Utrecht in July 1673. On this see Van de Ven 2015.

PROVENANCE OF THE LETTERS

Spinoza and Oldenburg

For the correspondence between Spinoza and Oldenburg in this section our primary source is the OP (supplemented by the NS, which prints Dutch translations of every letter whose Latin original is in the OP). There is one letter (79) which the OP editors omitted, presumably because it was their policy not to include letters Spinoza did not reply to. We know this letter because it was preserved in the Orphanage of the Mennonite Collegiants.

Letter 61, from Oldenburg to Spinoza, is Letter 17 in the OP. Since their last correspondence, each had apparently made unsuccessful attempts at communication. Spinoza had sent Oldenburg a copy of the TTP, which apparently never reached him. Oldenburg had written to thank him for this, in a letter which also seems not to have reached its destination. How Oldenburg would have known to thank Spinoza for a book he supposedly never received is a puzzle for which I have no solution.

In any event, Oldenburg did somehow procure a copy of the TTP, read it, and sent Spinoza his opinion of it, in the lost thank-you letter mentioned above, which we know about from the mention of it in Letter 61. That letter was apparently critical of Spinoza’s work as seemingly harmful to religion. By the time he writes Letter 62 (18 in the OP), he has apparently moderated his opinion of the TTP. But he has also heard, in another letter now lost, of Spinoza’s plan to publish the Ethics, and his opinion of Spinoza has apparently not changed enough for him not to be worried about what might be in that work. Letter 68 (19 in the OP) replies to Letter 62, telling Oldenburg about his self-censorship of the Ethics, and asking why the TTP might have made him worry about the Ethics.

Letter 71 (20 in the OP) begins a dialogue about Christianity which will continue to the end of their correspondence. In Letters 73–75, 77, and 78 (21–25 in the OP) it gradually becomes clear that Oldenburg has been upset by the TTP without realizing how radical it really is. This is partly because Spinoza is apt to appropriate doctrines from the Jewish and Christian traditions which bear a superficial similarity to his own views, and partly because the TTP deliberately conceals some of his disagreements with orthodox Christian doctrine, as we learn from Letters 75 and 78.

For Letters 73, 75, and 78, we have, in addition to the OP and NS versions, copies of Spinoza’s letters to Oldenburg, which Leibniz made when he visited London. Textual variations which we owe to Leibniz’s copies are indicated by the abbreviation LC. Gebhardt prints these in the lower half of the page, but they do not have much importance for the establishment of the text. Leibniz’s copies don’t often differ from the OP text, and in only one case (IV/326/25–26) do they seem to have a better reading. I treat the OP version as the default text, with a note indicating those places where it differs significantly from Leibniz’s copy. For discussion of the textual issues, see Akkerman 1980, 45–47.

Spinoza and Tschirnhaus

Most of the letters between Spinoza and Tschirnhaus are known only from the OP (and NS). Letter 57 is Letter 61 in the OP; 58 is 62 in the OP, and so on (59 = OP 63, 60 = OP 64, 63 = OP 65, 64 = OP 66, 65 = OP 67, 66 = OP 68, 80 = OP 69, 81 = OP 70, 82 = OP 71, and 83 = OP 72). The exceptions are Letters 63, 70, and 72, which are known also from autographs. The originals of Letters 63, 70, and 72 are in the possession of the Orphanage of the Mennonite Collegiants, and were first published in 1860 by Van Vloten.

Spinoza and Van Velthuysen

Letter 42 (48 in the OP) is the longest of the letters in Volume II. To make navigation in the text easier I’ve introduced in brackets the paragraph numbers of the OP. Because some of Van Velthuysen’s paragraphs are quite long, I break them up into smaller, unnumbered units. The bracketed OP paragraph numbers show what the original paragraphing was. The NS version includes a note where Spinoza comments (perhaps unfairly) on Van Velthuysen’s letter. See IV/210/32, and the note thereto. Van Velthuysen’s position on the interpretation of Scripture is roughly that of Maimonides and Meyer: reason is the interpreter of Scripture.

Letter 43 (49 in the OP) suggests that Spinoza may have thought Van Velthuysen intended Letter 42 for publication, a hypothesis encouraged by its length.³⁰ It appears from Letter 69 that subsequently Spinoza contemplated the possibility of publishing Letter 42 (or some revised version of it) together with his own reply.

For Letter 43 I translate the autograph version, which Gebhardt prints in the bottom half of the page. Gebhardt preferred the OP text because he thought Spinoza himself had revised his letter for publication in the OP. Following Akkerman (1980, 38–40), I reject that theory. Apart from the interesting passage translated in n. 3 (which Gebhardt gives in his Textgestaltung, p. 412), the differences between the two versions are slight. I assume Akkerman’s emendation of Gebhardt’s corrigito to conijcito on Gebhardt 421.

Letter 69 did not appear in the OP or NS. The original was first published in 1844, in a lithographic facsimile, by Prof. H. W. Tydeman, in the Utrechtse Volks-Almanak. It was subsequently lost.

Spinoza and Jelles

Letter 44 is Letter 47 in the OP and NS, our only sources for these letters. I take the NS version as the copy-text, and note variations in the OP version. I treat Letter 50 (which is also Letter 50 in the OP and NS) similarly. For a discussion of the issues these letters raise, see the Editorial Preface to Letters 29–41.

Letters 48A and 48B are very special cases. As mentioned previously, in the spring of 1673 Jelles wrote to Spinoza summing up the views he felt committed to as a Christian, and inviting Spinoza’s comment. This letter was not included in the OP or NS. No letter from Jelles to Spinoza was included, even though Jelles was one of the editors of the posthumous works. After Jelles’s death his friend Jan Rieuwertsz published a version of it in 1684. Wolf was familiar with the 1684 version when he published his translation of the correspondence in 1928. By the 1950s and 1960s, however, Mme. Thijssen-Schoute was reporting that the only known copy was missing. When AHW published the first edition of their translations of the correspondence in 1977, they were able to report that it had been found (AHW, 16), and they published the introduction and conclusion of the letter, omitting its central part, and dubbing these extracts Letter 48A. Subsequent editions of the correspondence (Dominguez, Walther, Shirley) have followed their example.

In 2004 Leen Spruit published a modern edition of the Dutch text of the letter of 1684, with an Italian translation on facing pages (Jelles/Spruit 1684/2004). That is the text I have relied on for my translation of the excerpts from this letter included here. But unlike previous editors, I have undertaken to make an abridgment of the central portion of Jelles’s letter, on the theory that knowing more of what Jelles said will help us to better appreciate Spinoza’s response.

Apparently no one now living has seen the 1673 version of the letter. I know of no evidence that it was nearly as long as that of 1684, and there is some reason to think it may have been much shorter. See the annotation to Letter 48B. What we now call Letter 48B is not, in fact, a letter, but a collection of reports on Spinoza’s reaction to (the 1673 version of) Letter 48A, which all purport to quote from a letter (now lost) which Spinoza wrote to Jelles in April 1673. The first comes from a postscript Jan Rieuwertsz the elder added to Jelles’s letter when he published it, and presumably quotes Spinoza reliably (Jelles/Spruit 1684/2004, 232). The second comes from Bayle’s Dictionary article on Spinoza: §1 from the main body of the article (Bayle 2001, 528), and §2 from Remark Y (Bayle 2001, 595–96). I would conjecture that insofar as Bayle reports Spinoza’s opinion of Jelles’s letter, he is depending on Rieuwertsz’s postscript, and has not actually seen the letter (which he seems to think, falsely, was written in Latin). But his report is interesting in spite of this. The third comes from the travel journal of a Dr. Hallman, who interviewed Jan Rieuwertsz the younger, the son of Spinoza’s (and Jelles’s) publisher, when he visited the Netherlands in 1704.³¹ It is not easy to reconcile Hallman’s report with the first two reports.

On the theory I accept, that Jarig Jelles is the unnamed friend to whom Spinoza wrote Letter 84, the original of that letter would surely have been written in Dutch. Akkerman has suggested that Lodewijk Meyer is likely to have translated the original into the Latin version of the OP, and that seems a reasonable hypothesis. Akkerman does not assume that the Dutch of the NS necessarily reproduces an unaltered version of the original letter. He suggests that Meyer or Jelles might have made some revisions in the original for the publication in the NS. (We know from Letter 19 that as late as 1665 Spinoza did not feel entirely comfortable writing in Dutch.) But in the absence of a verifiable original, it seems that the NS version is as close to the original as we are likely to get. So that is what I have translated.

Spinoza and Boxel

The correspondence between Spinoza and Boxel (Letters 51–56, which are Letters 55–60 in the OP and NS) was conducted in Dutch, and for the most part what holds of the other letters written in Dutch for which we have no original, holds for these letters. See the discussion in the Editorial Preface to Letters 29–41, p. 8.

The exception is Letter 53 (57 in the NS). For a long time we had a copy of the original of this letter, apparently made by the seventeenth-century editors of Spinoza’s works. This copy was destroyed in World War II, but not before Freudenthal and Gebhardt had made copies from it (AHW, 529–30). Gebhardt reproduces that copy in the bottom half of the page, below the Latin version of the OP. AHW reproduce this copy, but emend (by appeal to the NS) some passages where it had been damaged. I translate AHW’s text, which is very similar to that of the NS. The marginal page numbers are from Gebhardt’s version of the copy, which he prints in the lower half of the page. The only other letter in the Boxel correspondence for which Gebhardt gives the NS version is Letter 52. He takes the absence in that letter of Latin terms in the margins to indicate that (contrary to what he thinks is Spinoza's normal practice) Spinoza did not translate the Latin version back into Dutch, and that the NS version thus gives us what he originally wrote. Akkerman 1980 argued persuasively against Gebhardt's theory that Spinoza had generally translated his Dutch letters into Latin for the OP, and then translated them (from the improved Latin versions) back into Dutch for the NS. He allows that the NS versions have probably been reworked somewhat, but by the editors, not Spinoza. I proceed on the assumption that the NS versions are probably closer to the original than the Latin of the OP, and should be the default text for translation, with potentially ineresting variations in the OP noted. This has the inconvenience in the correspondence with Boxel that when Gebhardt does not give us the NS text—as he does not for Letters 51 and 54–56—my marginal page and line numbers are those of the Latin text. Before long, I expect, we will probably have a new critical edition of the correspondence which will give the NS versions of these letters. In the meantime readers worried about unreported differences can procure a copy of the NS through UMI Books on Demand

Spinoza, Burgh, and Steno

Letter 67 is Letter 73 in the OP, the generally preferred source for translation, since the letter was originally written in Latin. In one passage comparison with the NS translation suggests an improvement in the text: at IV/285/14. For Letter 67bis the ultimate source is the original publication in Florence in 1675, which was reprinted in a facsimile edition in volume I of the Chronicon Spinozanum.

Letter 76 (Spinoza’s reply to Burgh) is Letter 74 in the OP. In addition to the NS translation, we have a copy made by Leibniz, sent to his patron, the Catholic Duke of Hanover, Johan Friedrich, in 1677, with an interesting cover letter, commenting on Spinoza’s reply to Burgh (Leibniz, Akademie edition, II, i, 301–3). There is a detailed and valuable study of this letter by Piet Steenbakkers (Steenbakkers 2005), which argues, among other things, that the Leibniz copy and the NS version are not independent of one another. This diminishes the possible significance of passages where they agree against the OP text. My default text is the OP. The passages where the Leibniz copy and the NS show more text than the OP seem to be signs of carelessness on the part of the OP compositor.

1. As we should. The five letters to and from Schuller are 58, 63, 64, 70, 72. In Letter 58, Spinoza addresses his letter to Schuller, but its philosophical substance is a response to a letter Tschirnhaus had sent him via Schuller, in Letter 57. He relies on Schuller to relay his response. Similarly in Letter 63, Schuller is the nominal author, but the philosophical substance of the letter comes from Tschirnhaus. All the letters to or from Schuller are like that. In the correspondence which has come down to us, Schuller is no more than a representative of Tschirnhaus. This seems also to have been the view of the OP editors, who grouped the letters to and from Schuller with the Spinoza-Tschirnhaus correspondence.

2. On 8 April 1670 the Utrecht Church Council of the Dutch Reformed Church had condemned the TTP as a “profane and blasphemous book,” against which the burger-masters are urged to take “appropriate measures.” See Freudenthal/Walther 2006, I, 287. Violent reactions in other towns quickly followed. See Continuum Companion 2011, 25.

3. This correspondence was conducted through Jacob Ostens, to whom Letters 42 and 43 are nominally addressed. The situation is similar to that between Spinoza and Tschirnhaus.

4. Van de Ven notes that Van Velthuysen publicly acknowledged this in the preface to his Opera omnia (1680), where he wrote that while Spinoza was alive, he had many conversations with him (Van de Ven Facts, ch. 9).

5. Rom. 9:19–24, cited in Letter 75 (IV/312). There is useful commentary in the Anchor Romans. In other letters Spinoza uses other examples. For example, in Letter 73 (IV/307) he cites Paul’s speech to the Athenians (Acts 17:22–31)—with its statement that “in God we live and move and have our being”—which he takes as expressing an idea similar to his own doctrine that God is the immanent cause of all things. Fitzmyer (Anchor Acts, 610) comments that this line, apparently derived from Epimenides, “is not a pantheistic formula” in Paul, and that “it merely expresses the dependence of all human life on God and its proximity to him.” Arguably, the same is true of Spinoza’s use of this formula.

In Letter 58 (IV/268) Spinoza refers Tschirnhaus to II, vii, of CM (where he had cited Romans and Isaiah) and to Descartes’ Principles I, 39–41 (where Descartes had confessed his inability to reconcile God’s omnipotence with an indeterminist conception of freedom).

6. Rom. 1:20, 2:1.

7. This issue arose also in the correspondence with Tschirnhaus (Letter 57, IV/264), where it got a similar answer, crisply expressed: “evil men are no less to be feared, nor are they any less harmful, when they are necessarily evil” (Letter 58, IV/268).

8. This was church doctrine as early as the Council of Chalcedon in 451. Cf. Denzinger 1954, 60–61.

9. For a good brief discussion of Tschirnhaus’s life and works, see Schönfeld 1998. For a more detailed account of his work on method, see Van Peursen 1993. Tschirnhaus’s Medicina mentis is now available online. See Tschirnhaus 1695.

10. Leibniz to Oldenburg, in Leibniz, Gerhardt, 143, as quoted in Laerke 2008, 363.

11. I discussed this in Curley 1969, ch. 4.

12. On this, see Curley 1990a and especially Laerke 2008.

13. In Curley 1990a I tried to make an educated guess about this.

14. See Letter 72. Spinoza’s attempt to deny Leibniz access to the manuscript of the Ethics was apparently fruitless, since it seems that Tschirnhaus did share a copy with him. In the end Spinoza agreed to meet with Leibniz when he visited The Hague late in 1676, only a few months before Spinoza’s death. By that time Leibniz had procured a copy of the Ethics and they discussed it. See Laerke 2008.

15. See Steenbakkers 1994, 62–63.

16. Gebhardt/Walther 1998, 248–49, italics in the original.

17. In the letter the condition is that Spinoza would have “the utmost liberty to philosophize,” with the understanding that he would “not abuse this freedom to disturb the publicly established religion.”

18. Wolf 1966, 441–42.

19. Gebhardt/Walther 1998, 252.

20. See Nadler 1999, 311–14.

21. Boxel was the secretary of Gorinchem from 1655 to 1659, and pensionary of that town from then until he was dismissed from that post in 1672. The Continuum Companion conjectures that his dates were 1607/12? to 1680? (2011, 27).

22. It is now easier to understand Van Velthuysen’s position from the recent edition of his defense of Hobbes (Van Velthuysen 2013). See particularly Secretan’s introduction to that text.

23. On this, see Price 1994.

24. See TTP xix, and the annotation there regarding the Remonstrant controversy.

25. Spinoza protests against this common interpretation in Letter 43, IV/223b/22–25.

26. For further information, see Nadler 1999, 336–40, and Meinsma 1983, passim, but especially 451–58.

27. For more on Steno, see Kardel 1994 and 2013. Cutler 2003 provides a good popular account of Steno’s scientific work.

28. Cutler 2013, 161. Mogens Laerke tells me (in personal correspondence) that this probably does not fairly represent Leibniz’s view of Steno.

29. On these matters, see Curley 1990a.

30. Van de Ven reports that Van Velthuysen’s critique was “actively disseminated” among Spinoza’s critics and admirers. See Van de Ven Facts, ch. 9.

31. See Freudenthal 1899, 231–32; Gebhardt/Walther 1998, 140.

[IV/207] LETTER 42 (OP)

LAMBERT DE VELTHUYSEN, M.D. TO THE VERY LEARNED AND DISTINGUISHED JACOB OSTENS

Most Learned Sir,

[1] Now that I finally have some free time, I’ve immediately set my mind to satisfying your desires and requests. You ask me to tell you my opinion, give you my judgment, of the book titled Theological-Political [5] Discourse. I’ve decided to do that now, as well as the time available and my ability permit. However, I won’t go into detail, but will just try to give a brief account of the author’s meaning and intention concerning religion.

[2] What his nation is, or what plan of life he follows, I don’t know and don’t care to know. The argument of his book shows clearly enough [10] that he’s not stupid, and that his examination and consideration of the religious controversies troubling Christians in Europe is neither careless nor superficial. The author has persuaded himself that if he sets aside and casts off prejudices, he’ll fare better in examining the opinions which make men divide into factions and form parties. So he’s worked [15] quite diligently to free his mind from all superstition. To make himself immune from that, he’s inclined too much in the opposite direction. To avoid being faulted for superstition, he seems to me to have cast off all religion. At any rate, he doesn’t rise above the religion of the Deists, of whom we have quite enough everywhere—such are the wicked ways [20] of our age—especially in France.

Mersenne once published a Treatise against the Deists which I recall having read.¹ But I think hardly any of the Deists has written on behalf of that wicked cause as maliciously, as skillfully and as cunningly as the author of this dissertation has. Furthermore, unless I miss my guess, [25] this man does not stay within the bounds of the Deists and leaves men an even narrower scope for worship.

[IV/208] [3] He recognizes God and declares that he is the maker and founder of the Universe. But he maintains that the form, appearance and order of the world are completely necessary, as necessary as the nature of God and the eternal truths, which he maintains have been established outside God’s will. So he also says plainly that everything happens by [5] unconquerable necessity and inevitable fate.

He maintains that, for those who consider things correctly, there’s no place for [divine] precepts and commands, but that human ignorance has brought in terms of this kind, just as the common people’s lack of sophistication has given rise to ways of speaking which attribute affects [10] to God. So God accommodates himself to man’s power of understanding in the same way when he presents those eternal truths (and the other things which must happen necessarily) as commands to men.

He also teaches that the things the laws command (things thought to be subject to men’s will)² occur as necessarily as the fact that a triangle [15] has the nature it does, and therefore, that the things contained in the precepts don’t depend on men’s will, and that by pursuing or fleeing from them men achieve no good and avoid no evil, any more than God’s will is redirected by prayers, or than his eternal and absolute decrees are changed.

So precepts and decrees exist for the same reason, and agree in this: [20] men’s lack of sophistication and ignorance have moved God to provide that there should be some use for them among those who cannot form more perfect thoughts about God, and who require wretched aids of this kind to excite in them a zeal for virtue and a hatred of vices. That’s why the author makes no mention in his writing of any use of prayers, [25] any more than he does of life and death, or of any reward or punishment men will receive from the judge of the universe.

[4] He does this consistently with his principles: what room can there be for a last judgment, or what expectation of reward or punishment, [30] when everything is ascribed to fate and it’s maintained that all things emanate from God by an inevitable necessity—or rather, when one maintains that this whole universe is God? For I fear that our author is not very far from that opinion. At least there’s not much difference between maintaining that everything emanates necessarily from God’s nature and maintaining that the Universe itself is God.³

[IV/209] [5] Nevertheless, he places man’s supreme pleasure in the cultivation of virtue, which he says is its own reward and a stage for the most splendid things. He therefore holds that the man who understands things rightly ought to attend to virtue, not because of God’s precepts [5] and law, or because he hopes for a reward or fears punishment, but because he is attracted by the beauty of virtue and the spiritual delight man finds in its practice.

[6] He maintains, then, that God only appears, through the Prophets and revelation, to exhort men to virtue by the hope of rewards and fear of punishments (two things always connected with laws). The mind [10] of common men is so made—so badly fashioned—that it can only be driven to practice virtue by arguments borrowed from the nature of laws, and from the fear of punishment and hope of reward. But men who judge the matter truly, he thinks, understand that there is no truth or force in arguments of this kind.

[15] [7] It follows from this axiom that the Prophets and the holy Teachers—and thus God himself, since he spoke to men through their mouths—used arguments which in themselves were false, if we assess their nature. But the Author doesn’t think this matters. When the occasion arises, he openly and indiscriminately proclaims and teaches [20] that Sacred Scripture has not been provided to teach the truth, and the natures of the things it mentions, but that it turns them to its purpose, of forming men for virtue. He denies that the Prophets were so knowledgeable about things that they were completely immune from the errors of the Common People in constructing arguments and [25] thinking up the arguments they used to rouse men to virtue (although they knew very well the nature of the moral virtues and vices).

[8] So the Author also teaches that the Prophets weren’t free from errors of judgment even when they were warning the people they were sent to about their duty. This still doesn’t diminish their holiness and [30] credibility. Though they didn’t use true discourse and arguments, but used language accommodated to the preconceived opinions of their audience, with which they roused men to virtues about which no one has ever been undecided and about which there is no controversy, the purpose of a Prophet’s mission was to promote the cultivation of virtue among men, not to teach any truth.

[IV/210] For that reason he thinks a Prophet’s error and ignorance weren’t harmful to the listeners he was rousing to virtue. He thinks it doesn’t matter what arguments incite us to virtue, provided they don’t subvert [5] the moral virtue the Prophet advanced them to arouse. He thinks the mind’s perception of the truth of other things is not important for piety, when the holiness of the practice is not really contained in that truth. He also thinks that knowledge of the truth, and even of the mysteries, is the more or less necessary, in proportion as it contributes more or less to piety.

[10] [9] I think the author has in mind that axiom of the Theologians, who distinguish between the discourse of a Prophet when he is propounding a doctrine and when he is simply relating something. If I’m not mistaken, all Theologians accept that distinction. But he is quite wrong to think that his teaching agrees with it.

[10] For that reason he supposes that all those who deny that reason [15] and Philosophy are interpreters of Scripture will agree with his opinion. Since it is manifest to everyone that countless things are said about God in Scripture which are not applicable to God, but are accommodated to men’s understanding, so that men may be moved by them, and have a zeal for virtue roused in them, he thinks it must be maintained either [20] that the Holy Teacher wanted to educate men to virtue by those arguments, not by true ones, or that a freedom has been granted to anyone reading holy Scripture to judge of the meaning and purpose of the holy Teacher from the principles of his own reason. This latter opinion the author utterly condemns, and rejects along with those who teach, with the paradoxical Theologian, that reason is the interpreter of Scripture.⁴ [25] For he thinks that Scripture must be interpreted according to its literal meaning, and that men should not be granted a freedom to interpret, according to their own will and sense of reason, how the prophets’ words must be understood, so that they may weigh, according to their own reasons and the knowledge they have acquired for themselves about things, when the Prophets are speaking literally and when figuratively. [30] There’ll be an opportunity to speak about these things later.

[11] But I digress. Sticking to his principles concerning the fatal [IV/211] necessity of all things the Author denies⁵ that any miracles occur contrary to the laws of nature. For he maintains, as we pointed out, that the natures of things and their order are something no less necessary than the nature of God and the eternal truths. So he teaches that it’s no [5] more possible for something to deviate from the laws of nature than it is for the three angles of a triangle not to equal two right angles. God can’t bring it about that a lesser weight raises a heavier one, or that a body moving with two degrees of motion can overtake one moving with four degrees. So he maintains that miracles are subject [10] to the common laws of nature, which he teaches are as immutable as the natures of things, because the natures themselves are contained in the laws of nature. Nor does he allow any other power of God than his ordinary power, which is revealed according to the laws of nature, and which he thinks cannot be feigned to be different, because that would destroy the natures of things and be inconsistent.

[15] [12] A miracle, according to the Author, is therefore something unexpected, whose cause the common people are ignorant of.⁶ For example, when, after prayers have been properly performed, it seems that some evil which threatened has been warded off, or some coveted good obtained, the common people say this results from the power of prayers and from [20] God’s special guidance. But according to the author’s view, God had already decreed, unconditionally, from eternity, that those things would happen which the common people think happen by [God’s] intervention and the efficacy [of prayers]. On his view, the prayers are not the cause of the decree; the decree is the cause of the prayers.⁷

[13] All that about fate and the unconquerable necessity of things (both as regards their natures and as regards daily occurrences) he bases [25] on the nature of God—or to speak more clearly, on the nature of God’s will and intellect, which are indeed different in name, but in God really converge. He maintains, therefore, that God has necessarily willed this universe and whatever happens successively in it as necessarily as he knows this same universe. Moreover, if God necessarily knows this [30] universe and its laws—as he also knows the eternal truths contained in those laws—he infers that God could no more have established another universe than he could have destroyed the natures of things and made two times three equal seven. So just as we can’t conceive anything different from this universe and its laws, according to which [IV/212] things come into being and pass away, but whatever we can feign of this kind destroys itself, similarly he teaches that the Nature of the divine intellect, and of the whole universe, and of the laws according to which nature proceeds, is so constituted that God could no more have understood by his intellect any things different from those which now [5] are than it could happen that things now are different from themselves.

He claims, then, that just as God can’t now bring about things which destroy themselves, so he can’t feign or know natures different from those which now are, because the comprehension and understanding of those natures is as impossible as is the production now of [10] things different from those which now are. (In the Author’s opinion this would involve a contradiction.) All those natures, if conceived to be different from those which now are, would necessarily also be inconsistent with those which now are. For since the natures of the things contained in this universe are (in the Author’s opinion) necessary, [15] they cannot have that necessity from themselves, but must have it from the nature of God, from which they emanate necessarily. For he does not maintain, with Descartes (whose doctrine he nevertheless wants to seem to have adopted), that the natures of all things, as they are different from God’s nature and essence, so their ideas are freely in the divine mind.

[20] [14] With the things we’ve now spoken about, the Author has prepared the way for what he presents at the end of the book. Everything in the preceding chapters has been directed to this: he wants to inculcate in the Magistrate’s mind, and in everyone else’s, this axiom: it’s the right of the Magistrate to establish what divine worship is to be publicly [25] maintained in the State.

Next, it’s right for the Magistrate to permit his citizens to think and speak about religion as their hearts and minds tell them to. He ought to grant his subjects that freedom, even with respect to acts of external worship, as far as he can, consistently with their attachment to moral [30] virtues, or piety, remaining intact. For since there can be no controversy concerning moral virtue, and the knowledge and practice of the other things involve no moral virtue, from that he infers that it can’t be displeasing to God whatever things men otherwise embrace as sacred.

The Author is speaking here about sacred matters which don’t constitute moral virtue, and don’t impinge on it, which aren’t contrary to [IV/213] virtue, or foreign to it, but which men undertake and profess as aids of the true virtues, so that by their zeal for those virtues they can be accepted by and pleasing to God. God is not offended by their zeal for and practice of things which, though they’re indifferent, and don’t [5] contribute anything to virtue or vice, nevertheless men relate to the practice of piety, and use as aids to the cultivation of virtue.

[15] To prepare men’s hearts to embrace these paradoxes the Author maintains:

first, that the whole worship established by God and handed down [10] to the Jews, that is, to the citizens of the Israelite Republic, was only set up that they might live successfully in their Republic; but

[secondly] that in other respects the Jews were not precious or pleasing to God beyond the other nations, and

[thirdly] that God repeatedly made this known to the Jews, through the Prophets, when he reproached them for their ignorance and error, [15] because they placed holiness and piety in the worship God established and commanded them to perform, when it ought only to have been placed in zeal for moral virtues, that is, in the love of God and of one’s neighbor.

[16] Moreover, since God fashioned the heart of all nations with [20] the principles, and as it were, the seeds of the virtues, so that they judge spontaneously concerning the difference between good and evil, with hardly any instruction, he concludes that God did not consider the other nations lacking the things by which true blessedness can be achieved, but offered himself equally graciously to all men.

[25] [17] Indeed, to make the nations equal to the Jews in everything which can be of use, and in some way an aid to achieving true happiness, he maintains that the nations did not lack true prophets, and provides examples to prove this. Indeed, he hints that God ruled the other nations through good angels whom he (in accordance with Old [30] Testament custom) calls Gods. For that reason, [he claims], the sacred practices of the other nations did not displease God, so long as they were not so corrupted by human superstition that they made men hostile to true holiness, and did not drive them to do, in religion, things inconsistent with virtue. But, he maintains, for special reasons, peculiar to the Jews, God prohibited them from worshipping the Gods of the nations, whom, in accordance with what God established and arranged, [IV/214] the Nations worshipped as properly as the Jews, in their fashion, numbered the Angels appointed as guardians of the Jewish State among the Gods and accorded them divine honors.

[5] [18] Since our Author thinks it’s generally admitted that external worship is not pleasing to God in itself, he thinks it matters little what ceremonies are used in external worship, provided the worship is so suited to God that it arouses reverence for God in men’s minds and moves them to zeal for virtue.

[10] [19] Next, since he thinks that

[i] the main point of all religion is contained in the practice of virtue, and that

[ii] any knowledge of mysteries is superfluous, if it is not in itself naturally suited to promote virtue, and that

[iii] knowledge should be considered more powerful and necessary as it contributes more to educating men to virtue and rousing them to it, he claims that

[15] [iv] all opinions about God and his worship, and about everything pertaining to religion, are to be approved, or at least not rejected, if they’re true in the opinion of those who favor them, and are so established that uprightness may thrive and flourish.

To establish this doctrine he cites the Prophets themselves as the authors of, and witnesses to, his opinion. Having learned that God [20] considers it unimportant what opinions men have about religion, but that all worship and opinions are pleasing to God if they proceed from a zeal for virtue and reverence for divinity, they took such liberties that they even offered arguments to incite men to virtue when the arguments were indeed not true in themselves, but were merely thought [25] to be true by the people they were addressing, and naturally suited to spur them to prepare themselves more eagerly for the practice of virtue. He affirms, then, that God permitted the Prophets to use those arguments which would be adapted to the times and reasoning of the people, and which they, according to their understanding of things, [30] thought good and effective.

[20] He thinks that’s why some Divine Teachers used one kind of argument, and others, others, often using arguments inconsistent with one another—for example, why Paul taught that man is not justified by works, whereas James advocated the opposite view. James, the author thinks, saw that Christians take the doctrine of justification by faith off in a different [IV/215] direction, and so proves by many arguments that man is justified by faith and by works. For he understood that it wasn’t in the interests of the Christians of his time to advocate and propose, as Paul had done, that doctrine about faith according to which men rested quietly in God’s [5] mercy, and had almost no concern for good works. Paul was addressing the Jews, who erroneously placed their Justification in the works of the law, specially handed down to them by Moses, by which they’d been raised above the nations. Thinking that a way to blessedness was prepared for them alone, they rejected that account of salvation by faith which made [10] them equal to the nations and deprived them of all their privileges.

Since each proposition, then—both Paul’s and James’s—contributed admirably to making men apply their minds to piety, each according to the different circumstances of the times when they were preaching and the people they were preaching to, the Author thinks it was a matter of Apostolic prudence to teach now this doctrine and now that.

[15] [21] And this is one reason (among many others) why the Author thinks it is very far from the truth to try to explain the sacred text by reason and to establish it as the interpreter of Scripture, or to interpret one holy Teacher through another, since they are of equal authority, and the words they used are to be explained by the manner of speaking and [20] the property of the language familiar to those Teachers. In investigating Scripture’s true meaning, [the Author thinks,] we must attend only to its literal meaning, not to the nature of the thing.

Christ himself, then, and the other Teachers God sent, led the way by their example and practice, and showed that only by zeal [25] for the virtues do men proceed to happiness, and that other things ought to be thought of no importance. From that the Author tries to show that the Magistrate’s only concern ought to be that justice and uprightness flourish in the Republic, but that it is no part of his duty to decide what worship and what doctrine are most in accord [30] with the truth. He need only take care that things not be accepted which pose an obstacle to virtue, even according to the opinion of those who profess them.⁸

The Magistrate, therefore, without offense to the divinity, can easily tolerate different forms of worship in his Republic. To make this convincing, the Author takes the following course. He offers an account of the moral virtues—insofar as they are useful in Societies and concerned with [IV/216] external actions—according to which no one is obliged to practice them according to his private judgment and initiative, but the cultivation, practice and regulation of the virtues depend on the authority and command of the Magistrate. This is true for two reasons: first, because the external [5] acts expressing the virtues take their nature from the circumstances, and second, because a man’s duty regarding which external acts of this kind ought to be performed is judged by the advantage or disadvantage arising from them. So those external acts not done at the right time lose the nature of virtues, and their opposites ought to be counted as virtues.

The Author thinks there is another kind of virtues, which, insofar [10] as they subsist within the Mind, always keep their nature and do not depend on the changeable state of circumstances. [23] It is never permitted to anyone to be disposed to cruelty or savagery, not loving either his neighbor or the truth. But occasions can occur when it may be permitted, not indeed to set aside the mind’s intention [15] and devotion to the virtues mentioned, but either to refrain from the external acts [the virtues would normally require], or even to do things which, as far as external appearance is concerned, are thought to be inconsistent with these virtues. So it may happen that it’s no longer the duty of a decent man to state the truth openly, [20] and to share it, either orally or in writing, with [his fellow] citizens, and communicate it to them—[not, for example,] if we think more harm than good will come to the citizens from that publication. And although each of us ought to embrace all men in love, and it’s never permitted to abandon this affect, nevertheless, it turns out rather [25] frequently that we can treat certain men harshly without this vice, when it’s established that the mercy we are prepared to use toward them will lead to great evil for us.

So, indeed, everyone agrees that not all truths—whether they pertain to religion or to civil life—are fittingly told at all times. No one [30] thinks that roses should be cast before swine, if there’s a risk that the swine will rage against those who offer them the roses. Similarly, no one thinks a good man has a duty to teach ordinary people certain basic doctrines of religion, when there’s a fear that if they were spread among ordinary people, they would so disturb the Republic or the Church that more harm than good would result, both for citizens and saints alike.

[IV/217] Moreover, Civil Societies, from which rule and the authority to make laws cannot be separated, have also established, among other things, the principle that what would be useful to men united in a civil body, must not be left to the decision of individuals, but yielded to the rulers. From that the Author proves that the Magistrate has a right to [5] decide what kind of doctrines, and which doctrines, ought to be taught publicly in the Republic, and that subjects have a duty to refrain, as far as external profession is concerned, from teaching and professing doctrines the Magistrate has decreed there should be public silence about. For God did not allow the judgment of private individuals [to determine what doctrines they would publicly profess] any more than [10] he permitted them to do things contrary to the Magistrate’s intentions and decrees, or the judges’ decision, by which the force of the laws would be mocked and the Magistrates frustrated in their end.

The Author thinks men can agree about things of this kind, regarding external worship and its profession, and that external acts of Divine worship can be committed to the Judgment of the Magistrate as safely [15] as is conceded to him the right and 'power to appraise an injury done to the state and to punish it by force. For a private individual is not bound to adapt his own judgment to the judgment of the Magistrate concerning an injury done to the state, but can still have his own opinion (though he is bound, if necessary, to do his part in carrying out the [20] Magistrate’s judgment). In the same way, the Author thinks, it is within the province of private individuals in a State to judge about truth and falsity, and also about the necessity, of some doctrine. He holds that a private individual cannot be bound by the laws of the state to think the same about religion [as the Magistrate does], even though it may [25] depend on the Magistrate’s judgment what doctrines ought to be publicly propounded and private citizens have a duty to keep to themselves any religious opinions which disagree with the Magistrate’s, and not to do anything which would prevent the laws established by the Magistrate concerning worship from maintaining their force.

[30] But because it can happen that a Magistrate who disagrees with many of the ordinary people about the fundamental principles of religion wants some things to be publicly taught which the people’s judgment rejects, and nevertheless thinks it a matter of the divine honor that there be a public profession of such doctrines in his Republic, the Author sees that a difficulty remains: very great harm could be done to the citizens [IV/218] because the Magistrate’s judgment differs from that of ordinary people.⁹ So to the preceding argument he adds this other one, which at the same time calms the minds both of the Magistrate and of his subjects, and preserves freedom of religion intact. Namely, the Magistrate does not [5] have to fear God’s anger, even though he permits what in his judgment are improper religious practices to occur in his Republic, provided they are not in conflict with moral virtues and do not subvert them.

The reason for this opinion cannot escape you, since I have already explained it fully above. The Author maintains that God is indifferent to, is not concerned with, what kind of opinions men cherish in religion, [10] and approve and uphold in their heart, or what kind of religious practices they publicly engage in, since all these things ought to be regarded as having no relation to virtue and vice—although everyone has a duty to conduct his reasoning in such a way that he holds those doctrines, and engages in that worship, with which he thinks he can make the greatest progress in the pursuit of virtue.

[15] Here, most Distinguished Sir, you have a brief account of the main points of the teaching of this Theologico-politician. In my judgment his teaching destroys and completely subverts all worship and religion, secretly introduces Atheism, or at least imagines a God who cannot move men to reverence for his Divinity. His God is subjected to fate; [20] no room is left for any divine governance or providence; the whole distribution of punishments and rewards is destroyed. At least it’s easy to see from the Author’s writing that the authority of the whole of Sacred Scripture is shattered by his reasoning and arguments, and that it is mentioned by the Author only for the sake of the appearances. It [25] follows from his positions that the Koran must be regarded as equal to the Word of God. The Author does not have even one argument by which he might prove that Mohammed was not a true Prophet, because the Turks too, in accordance with the prescriptions of their Prophet, cultivate moral virtues concerning which there is no dispute among the nations. Moreover, according to the Author’s teaching, it is [30] not unusual for God to also bring the nations which did not receive the oracles given to the Jews and Christians into the circle of reason and obedience by other revelations.

So I think I am not deviating very far from the truth, or doing the Author any injustice, if I denounce him for teaching pure Atheism, by disguised and counterfeit arguments.

[Lambertus van Velthuysen
Utrecht, 24 January 1671]¹⁰

[IV/219b] LETTER 43 (A)

TO THE MOST LEARNED AND DISTINGUISHED JACOB OSTENS FROM B. D. S.

[answer to the preceding letter]

Friend,

[20] No doubt you’re surprised that I have made you wait so long, but till now I could hardly bring myself to reply to that man’s pamphlet,¹¹ which you wanted to share with me. Even now, my only reason for doing this is that I promised you. But to satisfy both you and myself, as much as possible, I’ll keep my promise as succinctly as I can, and [25] show briefly how wrongly he has interpreted my meaning. Whether he did this from malice or from ignorance, I can’t easily say.¹² But to the matter.

First, he says: it’s not important to know what my nation is, or what way of life I follow.¹³ But of course if he had known, he would not so easily [30] have persuaded himself that I teach atheism. For atheists are accustomed to seek honors and riches immoderately.¹⁴ But I have always scorned those things. Everyone who knows me knows that.

[IV/220b] Next, to prepare the path to his goal, he says I am not stupid, so that [20] he can more easily persuade people that I’ve written skillfully, cunningly, and maliciously, for the most wicked cause of the Deists.¹⁵ This shows well enough that he hasn’t understood my arguments. Who can be so intellectually skillful and cunning that he can give, insincerely, so many and such strong arguments for a thing he regards as false? Who, I say, [25] will he afterward think has written sincerely if he thinks fictions can be as solidly demonstrated as truths? But I don’t wonder now at this. For Voetius once defamed Descartes in the same way.¹⁶ So the best men are always maligned.

Next, he continues: to avoid the fault of superstition, he seems to have cast off all religion.¹⁷ What he understands by Religion, and what by [30] superstition, I don’t know. Has someone who maintains that God must be recognized as the highest good, and that he should be freely loved as such, cast off all religion? Is someone who holds that our greatest happiness and freedom consist only in this [love of God] irreligious? Or that the reward of virtue is virtue itself, whereas the punishment of folly and weakness is folly itself? And finally, that each person ought [IV/221b] to love his neighbor and obey the commands of the supreme 'power? [20] Not only have I explicitly said these things, I have also proven them by the strongest arguments.

But I think I see what mud this man is stuck in. He finds nothing in virtue itself, or in understanding, which delights him, and he would prefer to live according to the impulse of his affects, if one thing did not stand in his way: he fears punishment. So he abstains from evil actions, and obeys the divine commandments, like a slave, reluctantly [25] and with a vacillating heart. For this slavery he expects God to load him down with gifts far more pleasant to him than the love of God. And he expects this all the more, the more he resists the good he does and the more unwillingly he does it. As a result, he believes everyone not held back by this fear lives without restraint and casts off all religion.

[30] But enough of these things. I pass to the deduction by which he tries to show that I teach atheism by disguised and counterfeit arguments.¹⁸ The foundation of his reasoning is this: he thinks I take away God’s freedom and subject him to fate. This is false, of course. For I’ve maintained that everything follows with inevitable necessity from God’s nature in the same way everyone maintains that it follows from God’s nature that he [IV/222b] understands himself. Of course, no one denies that [God’s understanding of himself] follows necessarily from the divine nature. Nevertheless, no [20] one conceives that God has been coerced by some fate, but [everyone thinks] God understands himself completely freely, even if necessarily. I find nothing here which anyone can’t perceive. Nevertheless, if he believes these things are said with evil intent, what does he think about his Descartes, who maintained that everything we do was previously [25] preordained by God,¹⁹ who indeed creates us anew, as it were, at each moment,²⁰ and that nevertheless we act from the freedom of our will. Surely, as Descartes himself confesses, no one can comprehend this.²¹

Next, this inevitable necessity of things does not destroy either divine or human laws. For whether moral teachings take the form of a law [30] from God himself or not, they are still divine and salutary. Whether we receive the good which follows from virtue and divine love from God as a Judge, or because it emanates from the necessity of the divine nature, it is not for that reason either more or less desirable. Similarly, the evils which follow from evil deeds are not less to be feared because they follow from them necessarily.

[IV/223b] Finally, whether we do what we do necessarily or freely, we are still led by hope or fear. So he’s wrong when he says that I maintain that [20] there’s no place for precepts and commands,²² or as he continues afterward, that there is no expectation of reward or punishment, when all things are ascribed to fate, and it is maintained that all things emanate from God with inevitable necessity.²³

I do not ask here and now why it is the same thing (or not much different) to maintain that all things emanate necessarily from God’s nature and that the universe itself is God.²⁴ But I should like you to [25] note what he quickly adds, no less offensively: namely, that I don’t hold that a man ought to attend to virtue because of God’s precepts and law, or because he hopes for a reward or fears punishment, but, etc.²⁵

Of course, you won’t find this anywhere in my treatise. On the contrary, I said explicitly in Ch. 4 that the chief point of the divine law—which [30] I said (in Ch. 12) has been inscribed divinely in our mind—and its main precept is that we should love God as the greatest good, not from fear of any punishment (for love can’t arise from fear), and not from love of anything else in which we wish to delight (for then we would love, not so much God himself, as the other thing we desire).

Moreover, I showed in the same chapter that God revealed this very law to the prophets.²⁶ And whether I maintain that that law of God [IV/224b] has received the form of a law from God himself, or I conceive it like [20] the rest of God’s decrees, which involve eternal necessity and truth, it will nevertheless remain God’s decree and a salutary teaching. And whether I love God freely or from the necessity of his decree, I shall nevertheless love God, and I will be saved.

[25] So I can affirm here and now: that man is one of those of whom I said at the end of my preface [§34] that I would prefer that they neglect my book completely, rather than be troublesome by interpreting it perversely, as they usually do everything. They do themselves no good; others they harm.

Although I would think what I have written is enough to show what [30] I wanted to, I nevertheless thought it would be worthwhile to note a few further things:

[1] he is wrong to think that I had in mind that axiom of the theologians who distinguish between the speech of a prophet who is propounding a doctrine and that of one who is simply relating something. [IV/210/10–13] For if by this axiom he understands the one I attributed in Chapter 15 to a certain Rabbi Jehuda Alfakhar, how could I think that mine agrees with it, since in that chapter I rejected it as false? But if he’s thinking of something else, [IV/225b] I confess I still don’t know what, and so could not have had it in mind.

[2] Next, I also don’t see why he says [IV/210/14–15] that I think [20] everyone who denies that reason and philosophy are the interpreter of Scripture will follow my opinion. For I refuted their opinion as well as that of Maimonides.

It would take too long to enumerate all the passages where he shows that he has not made his judgment about me with a completely dispassionate [25] mind, so I pass to his conclusion, where he says

[3] that I have no argument left to me by which I might prove that Mohammed was not a true prophet. He tries, indeed, to show this from my opinions. Nevertheless, it clearly follows from them that Mohammed was an impostor, since he completely takes away that freedom which [30] the Universal religion concedes (by the natural light and by what the prophets revealed), which I have shown by all means ought to be granted.

But even if this were not the case, I ask you: am I bound to show that anyone is a false prophet? Surely the contrary is true: the prophets were bound to show that they were true.

If he should reply that Mohammed also taught the divine law and gave certain signs of his mission, as the other prophets did, there [IV/226b] will surely be no reason why he should deny that Mohammed was a true prophet. Moreover, as far as the Turks and the other nations are concerned, if they worship God with the practice of justice and with [20] loving-kindness toward their neighbor, I believe they have the spirit of Christ and are saved, whatever, in their ignorance, they may believe about Mohammed and the oracles.²⁷

There, my friend, you see how far that man has wandered from the truth. Nevertheless I grant that he does me no injury, but himself the greatest injury, when he does not blush to say that I teach atheism by disguised and counterfeit arguments.

[25] For the rest, I don’t think you will find anything here which you could judge to have been said too harshly against that man. However, if you do come upon anything like that, I beg you either to delete it, or to correct it, as it seems best to you. For whoever he may be, it’s not my intention to provoke him, and to acquire enemies of my own [30] making. Because this often happens in such debates, I could hardly prevail upon myself to reply. I could not have prevailed, if I had not promised. Farewell. I commit this letter to your prudence, I who am, etc.

[The Hague, February 1671]

[IV/227a] LETTER 44 (NS)

TO THE MOST WORTHY AND WISE JARIG JELLES FROM B. D. S.

Dear Friend,

When Professor . . .²⁸ visited me recently, he said, among other things, that he had heard that my Theological-Political Treatise has been translated into Dutch,²⁹ and that someone (he didn’t know who) intended to have [10] it printed. So I beg you, very earnestly, to please find out about this, to prevent the printing, if that’s possible. This is not only my request, but also that of many of my good friends, who would not like to see [15] this book prohibited.³⁰ If it’s published in Dutch, that will doubtless happen. I don’t doubt that you will do me and the cause this service.

Some time ago one of my friends sent me a little book, titled Homo [IV/228] Politicus, or Political Man,³¹ which I’d previously heard a lot about. I’ve read through it and found it to be the most harmful book men can devise. The Author’s supreme goods are money and honor. He organizes [5] his teaching for these ends and shows how to reach them: by rejecting all religion internally, and externally professing whatever can most serve your advancement. In addition, you should not be true to anyone, except insofar as it’s to your advantage. For the rest, he puts the highest value on dissembling, promising without performing, lying, [10] false oaths, and many other things.

When I read this, I thought about writing a little book indirectly against it, in which I would treat of the supreme good, and further, to show the anxious and miserable condition of those who are greedy for money and honor, and finally, by clear reasoning and many examples [15] to show that Republics which have an insatiable desire for honor and money must necessarily perish, and that they have [in fact] perished.³²

How much better and more excellent the thoughts of Thales of Miletus were than those of this Author will be evident from the following reasoning. All things, he said, are common among friends; the wise are friends of the gods; [OP: all things belong to the gods]; [IV/229] therefore, all things belong to the wise.³³ In this way this very wise man made himself the richest of all, more by nobly scorning wealth than by greedily pursuing it.

On another occasion³⁴ he showed that it is not by necessity, but [5] voluntarily, that the wise possess no wealth. For when his friends reproached him for his poverty, he made them this reply: “do you want me to prove that I can acquire what I consider unworthy of my labor, and what you seek so eagerly?” When they said “yes,” he leased all [10] the presses in Greece. For being very experienced in the movement of the stars, he had seen that that year there would be a great abundance of olives, whereas there had been a shortage in preceding years. He leased out at a high price presses he had leased for very little money, [15] because people needed to use them to press the oil from the olives. By doing this, he acquired in one year great wealth for himself, which he subsequently shared with as much generosity as he had shown cleverness in acquiring it.

I close with a declaration that I am, etc.
The Hague, 17 February 1671

[IV/230] LETTER 45 (OP)

TO THE ILLUSTRIOUS AND MOST DISTINGUISHED MR. B. D. S. FROM GOTTFRIED LEIBNIZ

Illustrious and Most Esteemed Sir,

Among the other praises the common report has bestowed on You, I understand that you also have outstanding skill in Optics.³⁵ That’s why I wanted to send You my essay, such as it is. I will not easily find a better critic for this sort of study. I’ve titled the piece I’m sending [10] you, A Note on Advanced Optics,³⁶ and have published it so that I could more conveniently share it with friends or with those interested in the subject. I hear also that the Esteemed Hudde is distinguished in this kind of study, and I do not doubt that You know him very well. So you would add wonderfully to your kindness if you also got me his judgment [15] and approval. The article itself explains sufficiently what its subject is.

I believe you have received the Prodromo³⁷ of Francis Lana, S.J., written in Italian, where he also proposes some excellent things in Dioptrics. But also a young Swiss, Joh. Oltius,³⁸ who is very erudite in these matters, has published his Physico-Mechanical Thoughts on Vision, in [20] which he partly promises a certain very simple and general instrument for polishing lenses of every kind, and partly says that he has found a way of collecting all the rays coming from all the points of an object, into as many other corresponding points—but only for an object at a certain distance and of a certain shape.

[25] For the rest, what I’ve proposed comes to this: not that all the rays of all the points are gathered again—for as far as we know now, this is impossible in any object, whatever its distance and shape—but that the rays of the points outside the optic axis, as well as the rays of points on the optic axis, are gathered, and therefore, that the apertures of the [IV/231] lenses can be made as large as you wish without loss of distinct vision. But these matters will await Your most acute judgment. Farewell, Most Esteemed Sir, and be well-disposed toward

your faithful admirer,

Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz,

[5] Doctor of Laws and Councillor of Mainz

Frankfurt, 5 October (new style) 1671

P.S.: If you deem me worthy of a reply, I hope the very noble Jurist Diemerbroeck³⁹ will be glad to forward it. I think you have seen my New Physical Hypothesis.⁴⁰ If not, I shall send it.

To M. Spinoza

[10] The Very Celebrated Scientist

And Very Profound Philosopher

Par couvert at Amsterdam⁴¹

[IV/231b] LETTER 46 (A)

TO THE MOST ERUDITE AND NOBLE MR. GOTTFRIED LEIBNIZ, J.U.D. AND COUNSELOR OF MAINZ, FROM B. D. S.

(Reply to the Preceding)

[25] Most Learned and Noble Sir,

I’ve read the paper you kindly sent me, and I thank you very much for sharing it with me. I regret that I haven’t been able to follow your train of thought adequately, although I believe you explained it clearly [IV/232b] enough. I beg you, therefore, not to decline to reply to me about these few matters:

[1] Do you believe there is any reason why we ought to make the [20] aperture of lenses small, other than that the rays which come from one point do not meet exactly in another point, but in a small space (which we usually call a mechanical point), which is larger or smaller, in proportion to the size of the aperture?

[2] Next, I ask whether the lenses you call “Pandochal”⁴² correct this [25] fault? that is, whether the mechanical point, or the small space in which the rays coming from the same point meet after refraction, remains the same in size, whether the opening is large or small? For if they do, it will be possible to increase their aperture as much as you like, and hence, they will be far more excellent than any other figures known to me.

[30] Otherwise, I don’t see why you commend them as so far superior to the common lenses. For circular lenses have the same axis everywhere.⁴³ So when we use them, all the points on the object must be considered as lying on the optical axis. Although not all the points on the object are at the same distance, nevertheless, the difference arising from that [IV/233b] is not perceptible when the objects are very remote, because then the rays coming from the same point are considered as if they entered the lens parallel to one another.

[20] Nevertheless, I do believe this: that when we want to take in several objects in one glance (as happens when we use very large convex ocular lenses), your lenses can help to represent all the objects at once more distinctly. But I shall suspend judgment about all these things until you explain your thinking to me more clearly. I earnestly entreat [25] you to do this.

I sent the second copy to Mr. Hudde, as you asked me to. He replies that at the moment he doesn’t have time to examine it, but he hopes that in a week or two he will be free to do so.

Francis Lana’s Prodromus⁴⁴ has not yet reached me. Neither have [30] the Physico-mechanical thoughts of Johannes Holt. What I regret more is that I have also not been able to see your physical hypothesis. At least it is not for sale here in The Hague. So if you send it to me, you will make me most grateful. And if I can be of service to you in anything at all, I will not fail to show that I am,

Most esteemed sir,

Wholly yours,

B. despinoza

The Hague, 9 November 1671

[IV/234] Mr. Dimerbruck does not live here. So I’m forced to give this to the ordinary carrier. No doubt you know someone here in The Hague who would be willing to take care of our correspondence. I should like to know who that is, so that letters could be taken care of more [5] conveniently and securely. If the Theological-political treatise has not yet reached you, I’ll send a copy, if you don’t mind. Farewell.⁴⁵

To the Most Noble and Esteemed Gentleman

Mr. Golfried [sic] Wilhelm Leibniz

Doctor of Law and Councillor of Mainz

Sent 8 December 1671

[IV/234] LETTER 47 (OP)

TO THE VERY ACUTE AND RENOWNED PHILOSOPHER B. D. S. FROM J. LUDWIG FABRITIUS

Most Renowned Sir,

[20] His Serene Highness, the Elector Palatine,⁴⁶ my Most Gracious Lord, has commanded me to write to You, whom I had indeed not known until now, but who has been most highly recommended to his Most Serene Highness, and to ask whether you would be inclined to take up an ordinary⁴⁷ Professorship of Philosophy in his renowned [25] University. You will receive the annual salary ordinary Professors enjoy today. Nowhere else will you find a Prince more favorable to men of outstanding intellect, among whom he judges you are one. You will [IV/235] have the most ample liberty to philosophize,⁴⁸ which he believes you will not abuse to disturb the publicly established religion.

I could not fail to comply with the command of this wisest of Princes. Therefore, I beg you most earnestly to reply to me as soon as possible, [5] and to give your reply, either to his Serene Highness’s resident in The Hague, Mr. Grotius, or to Mr. Gilles van der Hek, to be forwarded to me in the packet of letters which are usually sent to the court. Or you may use whatever other means seems most convenient.

I add this one thing: that if you come here, you will live pleasantly a [10] life worthy of a Philosopher, unless everything else turns out contrary to our hope and expectation.

Farewell, and Hail, Most Distinguished Sir,

From one who is Most Devoted to you,

J. Ludwig Fabritius

Professor, University of Heidelberg, and

Councillor to the Elector Palatine

Heidelberg, 16 February 1673

LETTER 48 (OP)

TO THE MOST ESTEEMED AND NOBLE GENTLEMAN MR. J. LUDWIG FABRITIUS PROFESSOR, UNIVERSITY OF HEIDELBERG, AND COUNCILLOR TO THE ELECTOR PALATINE FROM B. D. S.

Reply to the Preceding

Most Esteemed Sir,

If it had ever been my desire to take up a professorship in any faculty, I could have wished only for this one, which his Serene Highness, [IV/236] the Elector Palatine, is offering me, through you, especially because of the freedom of Philosophizing which your Most Gracious Prince is willing to grant, not to mention that I have long wished to live under the Rule of a Prince whose wisdom all admire.

[5] But since it’s never been my intention to teach publicly, I cannot be persuaded to embrace this excellent opportunity, even though I’ve weighed the matter for a long time. For first, I think that if I were willing to devote myself to educating young men, I would stop advancing in Philosophy. Second, I think I don’t know what the limits of [10] that freedom of Philosophizing might have to be, for me not to seem to want to disturb the publicly established religion. In fact, schisms arise not so much from ardent zeal for Religion as from men’s varying affects, or their eagerness to contradict one another. This results in their habit of distorting and condemning everything, even things rightly said. I have experienced these things already, while leading a [15] private and solitary life. How much more would I have to fear them after I rose to an office of this rank.

You see, then, Most Esteemed Sir, that I am not holding back because I hope for a better chance, but from a love of tranquillity, which I believe I can in some manner maintain, provided I abstain from public Lectures. So I most earnestly ask you to entreat his Most Serene Highness, the [20] Elector, to let me deliberate further about this matter, and then that you continue to procure the Most Gracious Prince’s favor toward his most devoted supporter, that you may put under a greater obligation to yourself, Most Esteemed and Noble Sir,

Yours truly,

B. d. S.

The Hague, 30 March 1673

LETTER 48A⁴⁹

JARIG JELLES PROFESSION OF THE UNIVERSAL AND CHRISTIAN FAITH CONTAINED IN A LETTER TO N.N.

[Jelles/Spruit, 6] Honorable Friend,

I have more readily granted your earnest request to let you know through a letter my opinion regarding my faith, or Religion, since you declare that the Reason you were urging me to do this was only that some people are trying to convince you that Cartesian Philosophers (among whom you are pleased to count me) cherish a strange opinion, falling into ancient Paganism, and that their Propositions and foundations are contrary to the foundations of the Christian Religion and Piety, etc.

In maintaining my view, I’ll first say that the Cartesian Philosophy touches Religion so little that Descartes’ Propositions are followed, not only by various [Protestant] denominations, but also by the Roman [denomination]. So what I say about Religion must be taken only for my personal opinion, not for that of the Cartesians. Though I’m not inclined to dispute with others, or to silence the slanderers, for me it will be enough to satisfy you and those like you.

It was not my intention to prescribe a universal Creed, or to define the essential, fundamental, and necessary Articles of Belief, but only to tell you my opinion. Nevertheless, I’ll try, to the best of my ability, to fulfill the Conditions required, in Jacob Acontius’ judgment, for a universal Profession, acceptable to all Christians, namely, that it contain [Jelles/Spruit, 8] only what necessarily must be known, what is very true and certain, what is certified and corroborated by testimonies, and finally, what, so far as possible, is expressed in the same words and ways of speaking the Holy Ghost used.

Here, then, is a Profession which seems to me to be of that kind. Read it attentively. Don’t judge it lightly. Be assured that, as I’ve taken a stand for the truth, so I seek to inspire it in you in this Letter.⁵⁰

[§1] Of God, and his attributes⁵¹

I believe and profess that there is a God, or that God really exists . . . ; that he is unique . . . , eternal . . . , immutable . . . , omnipotent . . . , supremely wise or omniscient . . . , and the source of all good . . . ; that he created the Heaven, the Earth, the Sea, and everything in them; that all things are from him, and through him, and to him . . . ; that we also are in him, live in him, and move in him . . . ; that he sustains all his creatures, and each of them in particular, governs them, and works in them . . . ; and finally that he has made all his works good, or in the most perfect way, and that he always works in the most perfect way. . . .

[§2] Of God’s Son and the Holy Ghost⁵²

I believe and profess that there is a Son of God, and that our Lord Jesus Christ, insofar as his flesh or body is concerned, was born from David’s seed, and is the Son of men; . . . [he is] God’s Son, in respect to the sanctifying and life-giving Spirit which resides in him . . . ; and which God has given him without measure.

I believe also that our Lord Jesus Christ, through this Spirit, has risen from the dead . . . ; and offered himself up to God as an innocent sacrifice . . . ; further, that because this Spirit was in him, he was anointed by God, and sent to bring the good news to the poor in spirit, to heal the broken-hearted, to liberate the captives, and give sight to the blind (in intellect), to announce the joyful year of the Lord . . . ; I believe further that, as regards the purpose of his coming into the world, he was born, and came into the world, to be a witness to the Truth . . . , that he is God’s Reason or Intellect, and moreover that he makes holy . . . , makes free . . . , and brings to God.

[I believe that he came into the world] to announce a light to the Jews (to whom God had revealed his will as a law and by letters written on tablets) . . . and to the pagans . . . , the light of truth and of reason, in which God’s will became known most perfectly, as he himself knew it; to seek and make holy . . . what was lost . . . , so that the world would be preserved through him . . . , and he would bring men to God . . . ; to take away our sins, and disrupt the works of the devil, that is, to bring it about that we no longer sin, and that the old man, with his works, is dead in us . . . ; so that he would release those who were under the law and they would be adopted as children.

I believe also that God’s Son, or the holy and life-giving Spirit which dwelled in our Lord Jesus Christ . . . was begotten from eternity out of God’s essence . . . ; that in the beginning of all things he was with God, and was God . . . ; that he is the image of the invisible God, the first born of all creatures . . . ; and as regards his nature or essence, he is God’s reason or his intellect . . . his eternal wisdom . . . the truth . . . the true light . . . which coming into the world enlightens each man. . . .

[§3] Of the duties of men for salvation⁵³

I believe that the whole Christian religion, or everything men are obliged to do to obtain supreme blessedness, is contained in the two commandments of the law: (1) you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind; (2) you shall love your neighbor as yourself . . . [I believe] that rebirth is included in the love of God . . . and that all those who love God and their neighbors in this way will be blessed . . . ; and furthermore, that the law is perfect, as far as the commandments are concerned, the two mentioned being the greatest of them, and all the others being contained in them . . . and that our Savior came into the world to fulfill them . . . that is, to bring it about that men should do and observe what the Law commands.

I believe also that those who love, not God, but the world, and the things in it (that is, vainglory, pleasures, riches, etc.), who hate their neighbors, lie, deceive, or offend in some other way, who live in injustice, greed, idolatry, feasting, drunkenness, whoring, and other vices, will be punished with the most severe punishment . . . [I believe] that they cannot inherit God’s kingdom . . . nor see his majesty, unless they convert. . . .

[§4] On the origin of sins⁵⁴

I believe that men don’t love God and their neighbors because they don’t know God. . . . That the love of God arises only from knowledge of God, and that no one can love God who does not know him is so clearly evident in itself, that those who deny this should be considered irrational. . . .

Further, [I believe] that men are drawn away from the good, and toward the evil, or tempted to commit sinful acts . . . through desires which do not come from the mind or from the intellect, and are contrary to God’s law . . . , desires . . . of which anger, vengeance, the desire for glory, feasting, drunkenness, greed, unchastity or lewdness, are not the least) . . . , and that the evil in the world comes from these desires. . . .

[§5] Of men’s depravity and rebirth⁵⁵

I believe that all men are born without a saving knowledge . . . and further, that they are all, by nature, children of anger, or subject to passions of hate, envy, anger, vengeance, love of glory, greed, etc. . . . and that therefore no one can come into God’s kingdom unless he has been born again through the Spirit. . . .

The nature of men who have not been reborn (that is, of men as they are naturally born), considered in itself, is neither evil nor corrupted—as some Christians believe, and claim that we must believe—because in such a condition man, no less than any other thing, has been produced by God, and God cannot create what is evil or corrupted, since this is inconsistent with his goodness and perfection. . . .

That our first Ancestors, Adam and Eve, before their fall and transgression, were moved, like natural Man, by desires contrary to God’s law, and contrary to the counsel of the Spirit, and unlike those who have been born again, who have acquired control over their desires, is evident from the story of their fall and transgression. . . .

[§6] On justification and salvation⁵⁶

I believe that those who are under the law and guided by the law are still in the darkness of ignorance (as far as what must be known for salvation is concerned) . . . subject to sin, or the passions of hate, envy, anger, vengeance, love of glory, greed, etc. . . . further, that through the law they cannot fulfill the requirements of the law, or do what the law requires . . . and that therefore no man can be justified through the law, or by the works of the law. . . .

I believe that what is impossible through the law, and can in no way be done or achieved through the law, can be brought about and achieved through God’s Son (the eternal wisdom and truth) . . . and that God’s son, insofar as he is in us, and we are in him . . . powerfully and really does in us . . . the willing and acting which are pleasing to God and good.

And that truly free willing and free acting are the rebirth and renewal of the spirit . . . ; the love toward God and toward one’s neighbor which the law requires of us and in which all the commandments are included . . . [are] our redemption and liberation . . . , justification . . . , sanctification . . . , life-giving (that is, spiritual and eternal) . . . , that [our Savior] is the resurrection and the life . . . , the spirit . . . , the Word or the Reason of life . . . , and the supreme salvation. The reason which in the beginning was with God, and was God. . . .

I believe also that God’s Son, the eternal wisdom of God, the truth, etc., is the Savior of the whole world . . . that salvation is in him alone and that no other name is given to men though which they are saved . . . that through him we are able to do everything required for salvation . . . , and without him we can do nothing which concerns our salvation . . . ; that through him we receive forgiveness of sins . . . ; are reconciled with God . . . , freed from sin and made pure and holy by him . . . , blessed with all spiritual and heavenly blessings . . . , and assured that we are children of God . . . ; finally, that through him we are united with one another and with Christ, as Christ is one with God. . . .⁵⁷

[Jelles/Spruit, 226] I trust that with this I’ve done more than you expected and that you’ll therefore consider yourself satisfied with what you asked of me. In return I ask only that you please consider what I’ve said carefully and with circumspection, and then judge what there is in the reports people have given you about my opinions in religion.

If you come across anything in this which might seem false or contrary to Holy Scripture, I ask you to tell me, and also to tell me the reason why it seems so to you, so that I can examine it. Those who consider something to be contrary to Holy Scripture and false if they find it does not agree with their Formularies or Professions of Faith will doubtless judge that much of what is in my letter is of that kind. But I am confident that those who test it according to the truth—which I have shown previously here is the only unmistakable rule or touchstone of truth and falsity, of orthodoxy and unorthodoxy—will judge differently about this, as I expect you to do also.

Here, then, you have my opinion, as far as the Christian Religion is concerned, and with it the proofs and arguments on which it rests. It remains now for you to judge whether those who build on such a foundation, and try to live according to such knowledge, are Christians or not, and what truth there is in the reports some have given you about my opinions.

[Jelles/Spruit, 228] In closing, then, I ask now on my part that you weigh all this carefully and calmly, wish you enlightened eyes of the intellect, and conclude with the assurance that I am, etc.

Your devoted friend,

Jarig Jelles

[Amsterdam, early 1673?]⁵⁸

LETTER 48B

THREE REPORTS OF SPINOZA’S REPLY TO THE PRECEDING LETTER

[1] [Jan Rieuwertsz the elder] And although some, who misunderstood [Jelles’s] meaning, ascribed a strange opinion to him, nevertheless he considered this more worthy of pity than of anger.⁵⁹ So he proceeded continually to penetrate more and more into the Love and knowledge of God. In this he grew so much that one finds few men who have risen to such a high level of spiritual Understanding. That slander was the reason why he sent this Profession to a certain Friend living outside the City, so that he would judge from it whether his opinion agreed with the truth of the matter. His Friend sent this Profession back to him with these words: I have read over your Writing with pleasure, and found it to be such that I can change nothing in it.

[2] [Pierre Bayle] [§1] I have just learned a rather curious thing: after [Spinoza] renounced the profession of Judaism, he openly professed the Gospel and frequented the assemblies of the Mennonites or those of the Arminians in Amsterdam.⁶⁰ He even approved a profession of faith that one of his close friends communicated to him. . . .

[§2] When a certain Jarig Jellis [sic], his close friend, was suspected of various heterodoxies, he believed that to justify himself he ought to publish a profession of his faith. Having prepared it, he sent it to Spinoza and asked him to give him his opinion of it. Spinoza replied that he had read it with pleasure and that he had found nothing in it where he [AHW, 307] could make changes. Sir, and Most Distinguished friend: I have read over the writing you sent me with pleasure, and I have found it such that I could not change anything in it.⁶¹ This profession of faith is in Dutch and was printed in 1684.

[3] [Dr. Hallman] More letters were found than they printed. But they were of no importance. That’s why they were burned. There was one letter, however, which he [Jan Rieuwertsz the younger] had preserved, which was upstairs, among his things. Finally I persuaded him to get it and show it to me. It was on a half sheet, quite short, and written in Dutch. The date was 19 April 1673, from The Hague, and the letter was addressed to Jarig Jelles, who had sent him his Profession of a universal Christian faith and asked his judgment about it.

In this reply Spinoza did not give him any praises, or even much approval, but told him only that he could raise one question about it. For when he claimed on p. 5⁶² of the manuscript that man is inclined by nature to evil, but through God’s grace and the spirit of Christ becomes indifferent to evil and good, this was contradictory, because he who has the spirit of Christ in this way, must necessarily be impelled only to the good.

Otherwise, Spinoza referred in this letter to Mr. Kerckring,⁶³ a Doctor, whom he had given an assignment in anatomy. At the end of the letter he wrote this to Jelles: “I shall send you the Known Truth⁶⁴ as soon as Mr. Vallon” (who, Rieuwertsz assured me, was a special friend of Spinoza’s, and who subsequently became a professor in Leiden) “returns my copy to me.”⁶⁵ However, if he should delay too long with it, he would arrange for Mr. Bronckhorst⁶⁶ to get him a copy. The conclusion was: that he remains, with cordial greetings, his devoted servant, B. Spinoza.

[IV/238] LETTER 49 (A)

TO THE MOST DISTINGUISHED MR. JOHANNES GEORGE GRAEVIUS FROM B. D. S.

[5] Most Distinguished Sir,

I ask you to send me, as soon as you can, that Letter concerning Descartes’ death,⁶⁷ which I believe you copied long ago. For Mr. de V.⁶⁸ has asked me for it several times. If it were mine, I would not be in any hurry. Farewell, most esteemed sir, and remember your friend, who is,

[10] Yours with all affection and fondness,

Benedictus despinoza

The Hague, 14 December 1673

Mr. Johannes George Graevius

Ordinary Professor of Rhetoric

At Utrecht

[Hague night post]

[IV/238] LETTER 50 (NS)

TO THE MOST WORTHY AND WISE MR. JARIG JELLES FROM B. D. S.

[IV/239b] [Dear Friend],⁶⁹

[20] As far as Politics is concerned, the difference you ask about, between Hobbes and me, is this: I always preserve natural Right unimpaired, and I maintain that in each State⁷⁰ the Supreme Magistrate has no more right over its subjects than it has greater power over them. This is always the case in the state of Nature.

[25] Next, regarding the demonstration I establish in the Appendix of the Geometric demonstrations of Descartes’ Principles, namely that God can only very improperly be called one or unique, I reply that a thing is said to be one or unique only in relation to its existence, but not to [30] its essence. For we don’t conceive things under numbers unless they have first been brought under a common genus.

For example, someone who holds a penny and a dollar in his hand will not think of the number two unless he can call the penny and the dollar by one and the same name, either “coin” or “piece of money.” [IV/240b] For then he can say that he has two coins or two pieces of money, since he calls not only the penny, but also the dollar, by the name “coin” or “piece of money.”

[20] From this it’s evident that nothing is called one or unique unless another thing has been conceived which (as they say) agrees with it. But since the existence of God is his essence, and we can’t form a universal idea concerning his essence, it’s certain that someone who calls God one or unique does not have a true idea of God, or is speaking [25] improperly about him.

As for shape being a negation, and not something positive, it’s manifest that matter as a whole, considered without limitation, can have no shape, and that shape pertains only to finite and determinate bodies. [30] For whoever says that he conceives⁷¹ a shape indicates nothing by this except that he conceives a determinate thing, and how it is determinate. So this determination does not pertain to the thing according to its being, but on the contrary, it is its non-being. Therefore, because the shape is nothing but a determination, and a determination is a negation, as they say, it can’t be anything but a negation.

[IV/241b] I’ve seen in a Bookseller’s window the book the Utrecht Professor⁷² wrote against mine, which was published after his death. From the few things I read at that time, I decided it was not worth reading, much [15] less answering. So I left the book lying there, along with its author. I smiled to myself that the most ignorant are generally the boldest and the readiest to write. It seems to me that the . . .⁷³ offer their wares for sale in the same way Shopkeepers do, who always show the worst goods [20] first. They say the Devil is a very cunning fellow. But to me it seems that their mind far surpasses his in craftiness. Fare well.

The Hague, 2 June 1674⁷⁴

[IV/241] LETTER 51 (NS)

TO THE MOST ACUTE PHILOSOPHER B. D. S. FROM HUGO BOXEL

Sir,

The reason I’m writing you this letter is that I’d like to know your [IV/242] opinion about apparitions and specters or ghosts⁷⁵, and if there are any, what you think about them, and how long they live. Some think they’re immortal; others that they’re mortal. I doubt whether you grant that they exist at all, so I won’t proceed further [with questions about their nature].

But it’s certain that the Ancients believed in them. Modern Theologians [5] and Philosophersstill believe such creatures exist, though they don’t agree about their essence. Some say they’re made of a very thin, fine matter; others that they’re spiritual. But (as I have already begun to say) we disagree greatly with one another, because I doubt whether [10] you grant that they exist—although as you know, there are so many examples and stories in all Antiquity that it would really be hard to deny them or call them in doubt.

One thing is certain: if you acknowledge that they exist, you still don’t believe that some of them are the souls of the dead,⁷⁶ as the Catholics [15] profess. Here I shall stop, and await your reply. I say nothing about the war, nothing about the rumors, because these are the times we are living through . . . , etc. Farewell,

14 September 1674

[IV/242] LETTER 52 (NS)

TO THE MOST ESTEEMED AND WISE HUGO BOXEL FROM B. D. S.

Reply to the Preceding

Sir,

Yesterday I received your letter, which was very welcome to me, as much [30] because I wanted to hear some news from you as because I see that you [IV/243b] have not completely forgotten me. Some, perhaps, would consider it an evil omen that the reason for your writing to me was specters or spirits.⁷⁷ But I find in this something more important, because I think that not only [20] true things, but even trifles and imaginations, can be to my advantage.

But let’s set to one side the question whether there are specters, phantasms, and imaginations,⁷⁸ because you find it extraordinary, not only to deny that there are such things, but even to doubt them—convinced [25] as you are by the great number of stories told about them, both by the ancients and the moderns. The great respect I’ve always had for you, and still have, does not permit me to contradict you, much less to flatter you. The middle course I’ll take is to ask that of the many [30] stories you’ve read about ghosts,⁷⁹ you choose, please, one or two which are least subject to doubt, and which most clearly prove that there are specters.⁸⁰ For to speak frankly, I’ve never read one credible Author who showed clearly that they exist. To this day I don’t know what they are, and no one has ever been able to tell me.

[IV/244b] It’s certain, however, that in the case of a thing experience has shown us so clearly, we must know what it is. Otherwise it will be very hard to conclude from some story that there are specters.⁸¹ What we should rather infer is that there is something, but that no one knows what it is. [20] If the Philosophers want to call those things we don’t know “specters,” I won’t be able to deny them that, because there are infinite things of which I have no knowledge.

Finally, Sir, before I explain myself further in this matter, I ask you to tell me what sort of things these specters or spirits⁸² are. Are they [25] children, fools, or madmen? Because from what I’ve heard about them, their actions seem to be those of the brainless, rather than of intelligent men. To interpret them as favorably as possible, they are like nothing more than children’s games or the pastimes of fools.

To make an end of this, I’ll mention one more thing: the desire [30] people commonly have to tell things, not as they are, but as they want them to be. We find this more in stories of spirits and ghosts⁸³ than in other cases. The main reason for this, I believe, is that stories of this [IV/245b] kind have no other witnesses than the people telling them. So, their inventors can, at their pleasure, add or omit details as seems best to them, without needing to fear that anyone will contradict them. [They [15] invent these things]⁸⁴ especially to justify the fear which has seized them about their dreams and phantasms, but also to strengthen their boldness, faith and opinion.

Besides this I have found still other reasons which move me to doubt, if not the stories themselves, then at least the details with which [20] they’re told, details which are most useful to the conclusion people try to draw from these stories.

I’ll stop here, until I understand which stories have so convinced you that you think it’s absurd even to doubt them.

[The Hague, 16–20 September 1674]⁸⁵

LETTER 53 (C)

TO THE MOST ACUTE PHILOSOPHER B. D. S. FROM HUGO BOXEL

Reply to the Preceding

Sir,

[IV/246b] I expected no other answer than the one you have sent me, that is, from a friend, and from one who has different opinions. But that difference doesn’t matter, for friends can disagree about indifferent matters, which has always been permitted without harm to the friendship.⁸⁶

[20] You want me to say, before you explain yourself, what sort of things ghosts are, whether they are children, fools, or madmen, etc., and [OP: you add] that everything you have heard about them seems to proceed more from fools than from intelligent men. The old saying is true: a preconceived opinion hinders the investigation of the truth.

[25] I say, then, that I believe that there are spirits, for these reasons:

(1) because it makes for the beauty and perfection of the universe that they exist;

(2) that it is probable that the Creator has created them because they are more like him than corporeal creatures are; and

[30] (3) that as there is a body without a spirit, there must also be a spirit without a body. Finally,

(4) that I think that there is no dark body⁸⁷ in the upper air, place or space, which does not have its inhabitants, and consequently, that the immeasurable space between us and the stars is not empty, but full of inhabitants, which are spirits. The highest and uppermost are true spirits; [IV/247b] the lowest, in the nearest air, are possibly creatures of a very fine and thin substance, and also invisible.

[20] So I think there are spirits of every kind, except that possibly there are no female spirits.

This reasoning will not convince those who think mistakenly that the world has been made by chance. Apart from these reasons, daily experience shows that there are spirits, of which there are many stories, both ancient and modern, and even nowadays. These stories are told [25] by Plutarch in his Treatise on famous men, and in other parts of his works, by Suetonius in his Lives of the Caesars, by Wierius⁸⁸ in his books on ghosts, and also by Lavaterus,⁸⁹ who has treated at length of the matter, which he has drawn from all the writers. As also Cardanus,⁹⁰ so [20] renowned for his learning, in the books on Subtlety and on Variety, and of his own life, where he shows his own experiences and those of the friends and relations to whom spirits appeared. Melanchthon,⁹¹ a lover of the truth and an intelligent man, and many others are witnesses of their own experiences.

[IV/248b] A burgermeister from Sc., a learned and wise man who is still alive, [20] told me once that in his mother’s brewery people heard things happening at night like what happened in the day time when they were brewing. He swore to me that this happened several times. I myself have had such things happen to me—and not only once—that I shall never forget. Because of that, and these reasons, I am convinced that there are spirits.

[25] As for devils, who torment wretched men in this life [and afterward],⁹² that’s another issue—as is everything which concerns witchcraft. I think the stories people tell about these things are fables.

Sir, in the Treatises on Spirits you will find an abundance of details. [30] In addition, if you please, you can also look at Pliny the younger, in bk. 7, in his letter to Sura, and Suetonius in the life of Julius Caesar, ch. 32. Valerius Maximus, bk. 1, ch. 8, §8 and again §7, of the Dies geniales of Alexander ab alexandro.⁹³ I think you have those authors at hand.

I am not speaking about Monks or Clerics, who tell of so many apparitions and visions of souls, spirits and devils, and tell so many [IV/249b] stories about ghosts—or to speak more accurately, fables—that they are boring and one loathes reading them. The Jesuit Thyraeus treats the same things in the book he calls Apparitions of Spirits.⁹⁴ But these [20] people do this only for their own advantage, and to prove the existence of purgatory, a mine from which they extract so much silver and gold. One does not find this in the authors mentioned above and in others of the present day, who are beyond all partiality, and therefore, so much the more to be believed.

[25] You say at the end of your letter that you cannot commend me to God without smiling.⁹⁵ But if you remember the conversation we previously had, you will see that one does not need to be frightened about the conclusion I then drew in my letter, etc.

[30] As a reply to your letter,⁹⁶ where you speak of fools and lunatics, I place here the conclusion of the learned Lavaterus, with which he brings to an end his first book on spirits, which reads as follows: whoever dares to reject so many agreeing witnesses, both ancient and modern, seems to me, in my judgment, not deserving of belief when he affirms anything; as it is a [IV/250b] mark of rashness to immediately believe all those who say they have seen ghosts, so it would also be great impudence to contradict so many credible Historians, ancestors, and others of great authority rashly and without shame, etc.

21 September 1674

[IV/250] LETTER 54 (NS)

TO THE MOST ESTEEMED AND WISE MR. HUGO BOXEL FROM B. D. S.

Reply to the Preceding

Version

Sir,⁹⁷

Relying on what you say in your letter of the 21st of last month—that friends can disagree in indifferent matters, and still remain friends—I’ll [20] say clearly what I think about the arguments and stories from which you conclude that there are all kinds of spirits, but perhaps none of the feminine kind.

The reason I haven’t replied earlier is that I don’t have at hand the books you cite, and so far haven’t found any of them, except Pliny and Suetonius. But these two will spare me the trouble of looking for the [25] others, because I believe they all display the same extravagance: they love unusual tales and things which make men amazed and astonished. I confess that I myself was not a little astonished, not at the stories they tell, but at the people who tell them. I am amazed that men of intellect and judgment squander and abuse their eloquence to make us believe such trifles.

[IV/251] But let’s leave the Authors and deal with the thing itself. First, I’ll reason a bit about the conclusion you draw. Let’s see whether I, who deny that there are ghosts or spirits, for that reason understand less [5] the Writers who’ve written about this or whether you, who maintain that there are such things, don’t respect these Writers more than they deserve.

On the one hand, you don’t doubt that there are spirits of the male gender; on the other, you doubt that there are spirits of the female gender. This seems to me to be more a whim than a doubt. For if this is your opinion, it would seem to me to be more like the imagination [10] of the common people, who suppose that God is male, not female. I’m surprised that those who’ve seen spirits naked have not cast their eyes on their genitalia. Perhaps they were afraid to do so; perhaps they didn’t know about this difference.

You’ll answer that this is mockery, not reasoning. By this I see that [15] your reasons seem to you so powerful and well-founded that no one (at least in your judgment) can contradict them—unless he mistakenly thought that the world was made by chance. This obliges me, before I investigate the reasons you’ve given, to set out briefly my opinion regarding this proposition: that the world was made by chance.

[20] I reply that, because by chance and necessarily are two contrary things, it’s certain that someone who says the world was produced necessarily from the divine nature also denies completely that the world was made by chance. But someone who says that God could have refrained from creating the world maintains (though in other words) that this [25] was done by chance, because it proceeded from a choice which could have not been made.

Because this opinion and judgment are completely absurd, people commonly grant that God’s will is eternal, and has never been indifferent. Therefore, they must also necessarily grant (NB) that the world [30] is a necessary effect of the divine nature. They may call this will, intellect, or whatever they want to. In the end, though, they arrive at this: they express one and the same thing in different words. For if someone asks them whether the divine will does not differ from the human will, they answer that the one has nothing in common with the other except the name. Besides, generally they grant that God’s will, [IV/252] intellect, essence and nature are one and the same thing. I too, not to confuse the divine nature with the human, ascribe to God no human attributes, such as will, intellect, attention, hearing, etc. I say, then, as I said before: the world is a necessary effect of the divine nature, and [5] was not made by chance.

This, I think, will be enough to persuade you that the opinion of those who say—if there are still some who say this—that the world has been made by chance is completely contrary to mine. On this supposition I proceed to investigate the reasons from which you conclude [10] that there are spirits of any kind whatever. What I can say about this in general is that they seem to be more conjectures than reasons. I can hardly believe that you take them for demonstrative arguments. But whether they are reasons or conjectures, let’s see whether we can regard them as so well-founded.

[15] Your first argument is that it pertains to the beauty and perfection of the Universe that spirits exist. Beauty, Sir, is not so much a quality of the object one sees as an effect of the object on him who sees it. If our eye was longer or shorter, or our constitution was different, the things we now consider beautiful would seem ugly, and those which [20] are now ugly would seem beautiful to us. The most beautiful hand, seen through a microscope, will look terrible. Some things, seen from a distance, are beautiful; when we see them close up, they are ugly. Moreover, things considered in themselves, or in relation to God, are neither beautiful nor ugly.

[25] Whoever says that God has made the world beautiful must maintain one of these two things: namely, either that God made the world for the senses and eyes of men, or that he made the sense organs of men for the world. Now whether you maintain the one or the other, I don’t see why God had to create ghosts or spirits to achieve one of these results.

[30] Perfection and imperfection are terms which do not differ much from beauty and ugliness. To be brief, I ask, what more it contributes to the adornment and perfection of the world that there should be spirits, or all sorts of monsters, like Centaurs, Hydras, Harpies, Satyrs, [IV/253] Griffins, Argusses and more fancies of that kind? Certainly the world would have been well-adorned if God had decorated it as pleases our imagination and fitted it out with things which everyone easily imagines and dreams, but no one can ever understand.

[5] Your second argument is that because spirits are more like God than the other, corporeal creatures, it is also probable that God created them. Truly, I confess I still don’t know in what respect spirits are more like God than other creatures are. I know this: that there is no proportion between the finite and the infinite; so the difference between the [10] greatest, most excellent creature and God is the same as that between the least creature and God. This argument doesn’t accomplish anything for your purposes.

If I had as clear an idea of spirits as I have of a triangle or a circle, I wouldn’t hesitate to maintain that God created them. But because [15] the idea I have of them agrees completely with the ideas I find in my imagination of Harpies, Griffins, Hydras, etc., I can’t consider them as anything other than dreams, which are as unlike God as being is unlike not-being.

Your third argument—that as there is a body without a spirit, so there [20] must also be a spirit without a body—seems to me no less insubstantial. Tell me, I ask you, whether it is not also probable that there are such things as memory, hearing, sight, etc., without bodies, because there are bodies without memory, hearing, sight, etc.? or that there is a sphere without a circle, because there is a circle without a sphere?

[25] Your fourth and last argument [IV/246b/31–247b19] is the same as the first. So I refer you to my reply to that [IV/252/15–253/4]. Here I’ll only note that I don’t know what the high and low places are which you conceive in an infinite matter, unless you think that the earth is the center of the Universe. For if the sun, or Saturn, is the center of the Universe, then the sun, or Saturn, will be the lowest place, not the earth.

[30] Passing over this and the remaining arguments, then, I conclude that these arguments, and others like them, will not be able to persuade anyone that there are ghosts, or spirits of every kind, except those who, closing their ears to their intellect, let themselves be seduced by superstition, which is so hostile to reason that it would rather believe old wives’ tales, only to diminish the notice taken of Philosophers.

[IV/254] As for the stories, I’ve already said in my first letter that I don’t deny them completely; I deny only the conclusion drawn from them. Moreover, I don’t consider them so credible as to prevent me from doubting many of the details they quite often add, more as an embellishment [5] than for the truth of the story, or the better to conclude from it what they wanted to conclude.

I’d hoped that out of so many stories you would have produced at least one or two which one could not in the least doubt, and which clearly showed that there are spirits or ghosts. That Mr. . . .⁹⁸ wanted [10] to conclude that they exist because he heard in his mother’s brewery things happening at night like those he was used to hearing in the day—this seems to me ridiculous. It would take too long to investigate here all the stories written about these trifles. To be brief, I refer to Julius Caesar, who, as Suetonius witnesses, mocked such things, and [15] nevertheless was successful, according to what Suetonius reports about this Ruler (in his life of Caesar, ch. 59). In the same way anyone who weighs the effects of human imaginings and affects must also laugh at such things, whatever Lavaterus and others who have shared his dreams about this matter say against them.

[The Hague, October 1674]⁹⁹

[IV/254] LETTER 55 (NS)

TO THE MOST ACUTE PHILOSOPHER B. D. S. FROM HUGO BOXEL

Reply to the Preceding

Sir,¹⁰⁰

I’m replying to your letter later than I intended to, because a slight illness has taken away my pleasure in studying and meditating, and prevented me from writing you. Now, thank God, I’m healthy again. [IV/255] In my reply I’ll follow in the footsteps of your letter but pass over your outcry against those who write about spirits.

I say, then, that I think there are no females among them, because I deny that they procreate. [I say nothing about]¹⁰¹ their shape and [5] composition, because this does not concern me.

Something is said to have been made by chance when it does not originate from the agent’s intention. When someone digs up the ground to plant a vineyard, or make a well or a grave, and finds a treasure he never thought of, we say that this happened by chance.¹⁰² Someone who acts of his own free will, in such a way that he can either act or [10] not act, is never said to act by chance. For if that were so, men would always act by chance, which would be absurd. The necessary and the free are two contrary things; but not the necessary and what happens by chance. And though the divine will is eternal, it doesn’t follow from [15] that that the world is eternal, because God was able to determine from eternity to make the world at a certain time.

You deny that the divine will has ever been indifferent, a position I reject. And it’s not necessary to examine this as closely as you think. [20] Not all men say that God’s will is necessary (for this involves necessity), because someone who ascribes a will to someone takes that to mean that he acts according to his will, and can refrain from acting. But if we ascribe necessity to him, then he cannot refrain from acting.

Finally, you say that you admit no human attributes in God, in order [25] not to confuse the divine nature with the human. So far, so good. For we cannot conceive in what way God acts, nor in what way he wills, understands, perceives, sees, hears, etc. But if you completely deny these actions, and all our most lofty speculations about God, and say that they are not in God in an eminent and metaphysical way, then [30] I don’t know what sort of God you have, or what you understand by the word “God.”

We must not deny what we don’t grasp. The soul, which is a spirit, and incorporeal, can act only with the help of the most subtle bodies, namely, the humors. And what proportion is there between a body and a spirit? In what way does the soul act with the help of bodies? For [IV/256] without them it is at rest, and if they are agitated, then it acts contrary to what it ought to do. Show me how this happens. You can’t. And I can’t any more than you can. We see and feel, however, that the soul acts. This does not cease to be true, even though we don’t grasp how this action happens.

[5] Similarly, though we don’t grasp how God acts, and we don’t want to ascribe human acts to him, we must nevertheless not deny on that account that his actions agree in an eminent and inconceivable way with ours, as willing, understanding, with the intellect, but seeing and hearing without eyes or ears—as wind and air can destroy and eradicate [10] landscapes and mountains without hands or other tools, which, however, is impossible for men without hands and tools.

If you ascribe necessity to God, and deprive him of will or free choice, one might ask oneself whether you aren’t depicting him who is an infinitely perfect being as something monstrous. To achieve your [15] purpose you’ll need other arguments to provide you with a foundation for this, because in my judgment there’s no certainty in the arguments you’ve proposed. And if you persist, there are still other arguments which perhaps will match yours. But let us leave that topic and proceed to others.

For a proof that there are spirits in the world, you want a demonstrative [20] proof, of which there are very few in the world. Apart from those in Mathematics, there are none which are as certain as we would wish. In most cases we have probable conjectures, and are satisfied with this probability. If the arguments by which the things are proven were demonstrations, then the only men we would find to speak against them [25] would be foolish and obstinate. But, dear friend, we are not so lucky. In this world we accept it as not so clear. To a certain extent we proceed by conjecture; and in our reasoning we accept the probable, for lack of demonstrations. This is evident in all the sciences, both divine and human, which are full of questions and disputes. Their multiplicity is [30] the reason we also find so many differences of opinion among everyone.

For this reason there were once, as you know, Philosophers called Skeptics, who doubted everything. These Skeptics disputed for and against, only to arrive, for lack of true reasons, at the probable; and each of them believed what seemed to him most like a proof. The moon is positioned directly under the sun. Therefore, the sun will become dark [IV/257] in a certain part of the earth. And if the sun does not become dark during the day, then the moon is not positioned directly under it. This is a demonstrative proof from the cause to the effect, and from the effect to the cause. There are some proofs of that kind, but very few, [5] which no one can contradict, provided only that he understands them.

As for beauty, there are some things whose parts are proportional to the other parts, and are better in their composition than others, and God has given to the intellect and judgment of man an agreement and harmony with what is well-proportioned, and not with what has no [10] proportion—as in harmonious and unharmonious sounds, in which the hearing can distinguish well the harmonious from the unharmonious, because the one causes pleasure and the other, irritation.

The perfection of a thing is also beautiful, insofar as nothing is lacking to it. There are many examples of this, which I omit, not to [15] be tedious. Let us only look at the world, which is called a whole, or the Universe. If this is true, and it definitely is, then the world is not lacking in or deprived of incorporeal things.

What you say about Centaurs, Hydras, Harpies, etc., is irrelevant here, for we are speaking only about the most universal genera of things, and [20] about their highest degrees, for example, about eternal and temporal, cause and effect, finite and infinite, souled and unsouled, substance and accident, corporeal and spiritual, etc., which comprehend under them countless and varied species.

I say that spirits are like God, because he is also a spirit. You require [25] as clear an idea of spirits as you have of a triangle. This is impossible. Tell me, I beseech you, what idea you have of God, and whether, for your intellect, it is as clear as that of a triangle. I know that you don’t, and have said before that we are not so fortunate that we grasp things through demonstrative proofs, and that for the most part the probable prevails in this world.

[30] Nevertheless, I say that as there is a body without memory, etc., so there is also a memory, etc., without body, and that as there is a circle without a sphere, so there is a sphere without a circle. But this is also to leave the universal genera of things for the particular species, for which this reasoning is not intended.

I say that the sun is the center of the world and that the fixed stars are further from the earth than Saturn, and Saturn further than [IV/258] Jupiter, and Jupiter further than Mars, etc., so that in the endless air, some things are further from, and others nearer to, us. We call these higher or lower, respectively.

It’s not those who maintain that there are spirits who undermine [5] the credibility of Philosophers, but those who deny them. For all the Philosophers, both ancient and those of our time, maintain that they’re convinced there are. Plutarch is a witness of this in his Treatise on the Opinions of the Philosophers,¹⁰³ and On Socrates’ Spirit.¹⁰⁴ Similarly, also all the Stoics, Pythagoreans, Platonists, Peripatetics, Empedocles, [10] Maximus Tyrius, Apuleius, and others. Among Philosophers today, no one denies them. Reject, then, so many wise and intelligent eye- and ear-witnesses, so many Philosophers, and so many Historians, who relate these stories. Say that they, along with the common herd, are all fools and chumps. Your answers do not persuade anyone, but indeed are absurd, and generally do not touch the heart of our dispute. And [15] you don’t produce a single proof that establishes your opinion. Caesar does not mock spirits, but omens and foretellings. The same is true of Cicero and Cato. Nevertheless, if he had not mocked Spurina on the day he died,¹⁰⁵ his enemies would not have killed him with so many stabwounds. But enough of that for now, etc.

[October/November 1674]¹⁰⁶

[IV/258] LETTER 56 (NS)

TO [MR. HUGO BOXEL] FROM B. D. S.

Answer to the Preceding

Sir,

I hasten to answer your letter, which I received yesterday, because I fear that if I wait longer, I’ll be forced to postpone my reply longer than I would like to. Your illness would have dismayed me, if I had not learned at the same time that you are better again. I hope that you are now completely recovered from it.

[IV/259] It would be evident just from this dispute we are now having—even if reason did not show it—how difficult it is for two people who follow different principles to be able to understand one another, and to agree, in a matter which depends on many other things.

Tell me, I beseech you, whether you have seen or read any Philosophers [5] who think that the world was made by chance—in the sense, that is, in which you understand it, viz. that in creating the world God had one goal, and yet that he went completely outside the goal he had. I don’t know anyone who ever had such a thought.

Similarly, I also don’t know by what reasons you want to persuade [10] me that by chance and necessarily are not contraries. As soon as I realize that the three angles of a triangle are necessarily equal to two right angles, I also deny that this happens by chance. Similarly, as soon as I find that heat is necessarily an effect of fire, I also deny that this happens by chance.

[15] That the necessary and the free are two contraries seems no less extravagant and contrary to reason. For no one can deny that God knows himself and all other things freely; nevertheless everyone grants, by common agreement, that God cannot fail, or cease, to know himself. So it seems to me that you make no distinction between coercion, or [20] force, and necessity. That a man wants to live, to love, etc., is not a coerced action. But it is necessary. Much more does God will to be, to know and to act [freely, but necessarily].

If, in addition, you reflect that indifference is only ignorance or doubt, and that a will which is always constant and determined in all [25] things is a virtue and a necessary property of the intellect, you’ll see that what I’ve said agrees completely with the truth. If people want to say that God could have failed to will a thing, but could not have failed to understand it, this is to attribute to God different freedoms, one necessary, the other indifferent. Thus they consider God’s will to [30] be different from his essence and from his intellect. So they fall from one absurdity to another.

The attention I required in my preceding letter seemed unnecessary to you. That’s why you did not fix your thoughts on the main point, and why you neglected what was most relevant.

[IV/260] Next, you say that if I deny that the acts of seeing, hearing, attending, willing, etc., are in God—or that those things are in God in an eminent way—you don’t know what kind of God I have. This makes me suspect that you believe there is no greater perfection than that [5] which can be explained by the attributes mentioned. I don’t wonder at this. I believe that if a triangle could speak, it would say in the same way that God is triangular in an eminent way, and that a circle would say that in an eminent way the divine nature is circular. In the same manner, each being would ascribe its own attributes to God, and make itself like God. Everything else would seem deformed to it.

[10] The brevity of a letter and limitations of time don’t permit me to explain my opinion about the divine nature and answer the questions you raise. Besides, making objections is not the same thing as giving arguments. It’s true that in this world we are feeling our way.¹⁰⁷ But it’s [15] false that we act on the basis of conjectures in our speculations. In daily life, we must follow what is most probable, but in speculations we are required to follow the truth. Man would die of hunger and thirst if he weren’t willing to eat or drink until he had a perfect proof that the food and drink would be good for him. But in speculation this is irrelevant. [20] On the contrary, we must beware of assuming as true something which is only probable. For once we have granted something false, infinite other false things follow from it.

Next, from the fact that the divine and human sciences are full of disputes and controversies, we can’t conclude that everything treated in [25] them is uncertain. There are a great many people who are such lovers of contradiction that they have mocked geometrical demonstrations themselves. Sextus Empiricus and the other skeptics whom you mention say it is false that the whole is greater than its part,¹⁰⁸ and they judge similarly concerning the other axioms.

[30] But leaving this to one side, and granting that when we lack a demonstration, we must be content with probabilities, I say that a probable proof must be such that, although we can have doubts about it, we cannot contradict it. For what can be contradicted is not probable, but improbable. For example, if I say that Peter is alive, because I saw him [IV/261] in good health yesterday, that is indeed probable, in so far as no one can contradict me. But if someone else comes and says that yesterday he saw Peter pass out, and that he believes that afterward Peter died, this makes what I said seem false. That your conjecture concerning [5] ghosts and spirits seems false, and improbable, I have shown so clearly that I find nothing in your reply worth commenting on.

To your question, whether I have as clear an idea of God as I do of a triangle, I answer “yes.” But if you ask me whether I have as clear an image of God as I do of a triangle, I’ll answer “no.” For we can’t [10] imagine God, but we can indeed understand him.

We should also note this here: I don’t say that I know God completely, but only that I know some of his attributes, not all of them, nor even most of them.¹⁰⁹ Certainly being ignorant of most of them [15] does not prevent my knowing some. When I began to learn Euclid’s Elements, I understood first that the three angles of a triangle equal two right angles. I understood this property of the triangle clearly [NS: and distinctly], though I was ignorant of many other properties of the same triangle.

[20] As for ghosts or spirits, I have not yet heard any intelligible property of theirs, but only imaginations which no one can grasp. When you say that ghosts or spirits here below—I follow your style, although I don’t know that matter here below is worth less than that above—consist of a very thin, rarefied and fine substance, you seem to be talking about [25] spiders’ webs, air, or vapors. To say they’re invisible is to say what they are not, not what they are—unless perhaps you mean that they make themselves now visible, now invisible, as they please, and that the imagination will find no difficulty in these things, as also in other impossibilities.

[30] To me the authority of Plato, Aristotle, and Socrates is not worth much. I would have been amazed if you had mentioned Epicurus, Democritus, Lucretius, or any of the Atomists, or defenders of invisible particles.¹¹⁰ But it’s no wonder that the people who invented occult qualities, intentional species, substantial forms, and a thousand other trifles [IV/262] contrived ghosts and spirits, and believed old wives’ tales, to lessen the authority of Democritus, whose good reputation they so envied that they had all his books burned,¹¹¹ which he had published with such great praise. If you’re willing to put your faith in them, what reason do you [5] have for denying the miracles of the Virgin Mary and of all the Saints, which so many famous philosophers, theologians, and historians have described that I can cite a hundred of the latter to one of the former.

Finally, Sir, I have gone on longer than I meant to. I don’t want to trouble you further with these things, which I know you will not [10] grant, because you follow principles completely different from mine.

[The Hague, October/November 1674]¹¹²

LETTER 57 (OP)

TO THE MOST EXCELLENT AND ACUTE PHILOSOPHER B. D. S. FROM EHRENFRIED WALTHER VON TSCHIRNHAUS

Most Excellent Sir,

I’m surprised, at least,¹¹³ that by the very fact that Philosophers demonstrate that something is false, by the same reasoning they show its truth. At the beginning of his Method, Descartes thinks that the certainty of the intellect is equal in all men.¹¹⁴ Moreover, in his Meditations [20] he demonstrates [this]. They prove the same thing who think they can demonstrate something to be certain in this way: that it is accepted as indubitable by all men.

But setting these things to one side, I appeal to experience, and I humbly ask you to attend to these things carefully. For in this way it will be found that if one of two men affirms something, but the other denies it, and they speak in such a way that they are each aware of [25] [their apparent disagreement], although they seem to be contrary to one another verbally, nevertheless if their concepts are weighed, they both speak the truth (each one according to his concept).

I mention this because it is immensely useful in everyday life. Once [IV/263] this one thing has been observed, countless disputes, and the quarrels stemming from them, can be prevented—although this truth in the concept is not always true absolutely, but only when those things are posited which are supposed in the intellect as true. This Rule is even [5] so universal that it is found among all men, madmen and dreamers not excepted. For whatever they say they are seeing (though it does not appear this way to us) or say they have seen, it’s quite certain that things really are this way.

This is also observed most clearly in the case at hand, concerning Free Will. For both those who argue for it and those who argue against [10] it seem to me to speak the truth, that is, as each conceives Freedom. For Descartes calls Free what is not compelled by any cause. And you, on the other hand, call Free what is not determined to something by any cause. Therefore, I confess with you that in all things we are determined to something by a definite cause, and thus that we have no free will [as you understand “free will”]. On the other hand, I also think, [15] with Descartes, that in certain things (as I shall show immediately) we are not in any way compelled, and so have free will [as he understands “free will”]. I shall take an example from the present situation.

The State of the Question is three-fold. First, do we have, absolutely, any 'power over things which are outside us? This is denied. [20] For example, that I am now writing this letter is not absolutely in my 'power, since I certainly would have written earlier, if I had not been prevented either by being away or by the presence of friends. Second, when the will determines the motions of our body in a certain way, do we have 'power absolutely over those motions? I reply with [25] a qualification: [we do] if we are living in a healthy body. For if I am healthy, I can always apply myself to writing or not. Third, when I have at my disposal the exercise of my reason, can I use it most freely, that is, absolutely? To this I reply “yes.” For who would deny to me, without contradicting his own consciousness, that I can think, in my [30] thoughts,¹¹⁵ either that I want to write, or that I want not to write. And as far as the action is concerned, because the external causes permit this (which concerns the second case), I indeed have the ability both to write and not to write.

I acknowledge, indeed, with you, that there are causes which determine me to write now, because you first wrote to me, and asked in [IV/264] the same letter that I write back at the first opportunity, and because there is an opportunity now, I would not like to lose it. I also affirm as certain, with my consciousness as a witness, and with Descartes, that such things do not on that account compel me, and that I really [5] could, notwithstanding these reasons, refrain from doing this. This seems impossible to deny.

If we were compelled by external things, who could acquire the habit of virtue? On the contrary, if we affirmed this, all wickedness would be excusable. But in how many ways does it not happen that if we are determined to something by external things, we resist this with a firm [10] and constant heart?

So to give a clearer explanation of the above Rule: you are both speaking the truth according to your own conception. But if we look to the absolute truth, this agrees only with Descartes’ opinion. For in your conception you suppose as certain that the essence of freedom consists [15] in this, that we are not determined by anything. If this is affirmed, both [opinions] will be true. But since the essence of each thing consists in that without which it cannot even be conceived, and freedom can certainly be conceived clearly, even though we’re determined to something in our actions by external causes—or even though there are [20] always causes which are an inducement for us to direct our actions in such a way (even though they do not completely bring it about)—but by no means [can freedom be clearly conceived] if it’s affirmed that we’re compelled. See, in addition to this, Descartes’ Vol. I, Letters 8 and 9, similarly, Vol. II, p. 4.¹¹⁶

But let this be enough. I ask you to respond to these difficulties [NS adds: and you will find that I will not only be grateful, but also, [25] health permitting,

Your most devoted, N.N.]

8 October 1674

[IV/265] LETTER 58 (OP)

TO THE VERY LEARNED AND ABLE MR. G. H. SCHULLER FROM BENEDICT DE SPINOZA

Reply to the Preceding

Most Able Sir,

Our friend J. R.¹¹⁷ sent me the letter you were kind enough to write me, together with your friend’s judgment concerning my opinion on free will and Descartes’, which was most welcome to me. Although at [10] present I’m greatly distracted by other matters—not to mention the fact that my health is not too good—your singular kindness, and what I think most important, the zeal for the truth which possesses you compel me to satisfy your desire as well as the limits of my ability allow.

I don’t know what your friend means before he appeals to experience [15] and asks for careful attention. Then he adds: if one of two men affirms something concerning some matter, but the other denies it, etc., [and they speak in such a way that they are each aware of this, although they seem to be contrary to one another verbally, nevertheless if their concepts are weighed, they both speak the truth (each one according to his concept)].¹¹⁸ This is true, if he understands that the two men, though they use the same words, are nevertheless thinking about different things. Previously I sent some examples of this to our friend J. [20] R. I am writing him now, to ask him to communicate them to you.

So I pass to that definition of Freedom which he says is mine. But I don’t know where he got it from. I say that a thing is free if it exists and acts solely from the necessity of its own nature, and compelled if it is determined by something else to exist and produce effects in a [25] fixed and determinate way.¹¹⁹ E.g., even though God exists necessarily, still he exists freely, because he exists from the necessity of his own nature alone. So God also understands himself, and absolutely all things, freely, because it follows solely from the necessity of his nature that he understands all things. You see, then, that I place freedom not in a [30] free decree, but in a free necessity.

[IV/266] But let’s examine created things, which are all determined by external causes to exist and to produce effects in a definite and determinate way. To clearly understand this, let’s conceive something very simple. Suppose a stone receives, from an external cause which strikes against [5] it, a certain quantity of motion, by which it afterward will necessarily continue to move, even though the impulse of the external cause ceases. This continuance of the stone in motion, then, is compelled, not because it is necessary, but because it must be defined by the impulse of the external cause. What I say here about the stone must be understood [10] concerning any singular thing, however composite it is conceived to be, and however capable of doing many things: each thing is necessarily determined by some external cause to exist and produce effects in a fixed and determinate way.

Next, conceive now, if you will, that while the stone continues to move, it thinks, and knows that as far as it can, it strives to continue [15] moving. Of course, since the stone is conscious only of its striving, and not at all indifferent, it will believe that it is very free, and that it perseveres in motion for no other cause than because it wills to. This is that famous human freedom everyone brags of having, which consists only in this: that men are conscious of their appetite and ignorant of [20] the causes by which they are determined. So the infant believes that he freely wants the milk; the angry boy that he wants vengeance; and the timid, flight. Again, the drunk believes it is from a free decision of the mind that he says those things which afterward, when sober, he wishes he had not said. Similarly, the madman, the chatterbox, and a great many people of this kind believe that they act from a free decision [25] of the mind, and not that they are set in motion by an impulse.¹²⁰

And because this prejudice is innate in all men, they are not so easily freed of it. For though experience teaches quite abundantly that there is nothing less in man’s power than to restrain his appetites, and that often, when men are torn by contrary affects, they see the better and [30] follow the worse,¹²¹ they still believe themselves to be free, because they want certain things only slightly, so that their appetite for these things can easily be restrained by the memory of another thing they recall more frequently.

With this, if I’m not mistaken, I’ve explained sufficiently what my opinion is concerning free and compelled necessity, and concerning that fictitious human freedom. From this it’s easy to reply to your friend’s [IV/267] objections. For when Descartes says that he is free who is compelled by no external cause,¹²² if he understands by a man who is compelled one who acts unwillingly, I grant that in certain things we are not at all compelled; in this respect we have free will. But if by compelled he [5] understands one who acts necessarily, though not unwillingly, then (as I have explained above) I deny that we are free in anything.

But your Friend affirms, for his part, that that we can use the exercise of our reason most freely—i.e., absolutely.¹²³ He persists in this opinion with sufficient—not to say, too much—confidence. For who, he says, [10] would deny, except by contradicting his own consciousness, that I can think, in my thoughts, that I want to write, and that I do not want to write. I’d really like to know what sort of consciousness he’s talking about, if it’s not what I’ve explained above in the example of the stone.

For my part, unless I contradict my consciousness, i.e., contradict reason and experience, and unless I encourage prejudices and ignorance, [15] I deny that I can think, by any absolute power of thinking, that I will to write and do not will to write.

But I appeal to his consciousness. Doubtless he’s experienced that in dreams he doesn’t have the 'power to think that he wills to write and does not will to write—or that when he dreams that he wills to write, he has the 'power of not dreaming that he wills to write. I also [20] don’t believe that he’s learned from experience that the mind is always equally capable of thinking of the same object. [Rather, I think he’s learned from experience] that, as the body is more capable of having an image of this or that object stirred up in it, so the mind is more capable of contemplating this or that object.

Moreover, when he adds that the causes of his having applied his mind [25] to writing have prompted him to write, but have not compelled him to, all that means (if you want to examine the matter fairly) is that his mind was then so constituted that causes which could not have caused him at another time to go in that direction (i.e., when he was torn by some great affect) could now easily do this. I.e., that the causes which [30] could not compel him [then] to do otherwise have now compelled him, not to write unwillingly, but to necessarily have a desire to write.

As for what he has maintained next: that if we were compelled by external causes, no one could acquire the habit of virtue,¹²⁴ I don’t know who has told him that it can’t happen from a fatal necessity, but only from a free decision of the Mind, that we should have a firm and constant disposition.

[IV/268] As for what he adds next: that if we affirmed this, all wickedness would be excusable, what of it? For evil men are no less to be feared, nor are they any less harmful, when they are necessarily evil. But concerning these matters, please see my Appendix to books I and II of Descartes’ [5] Principles, demonstrated in Geometric order, Part II, Chapter VIII.

Finally, I’d like your friend, who raises these objections against me, to tell me how he conceives the human virtue which arises from the free decree of the Mind to be consistent with God’s preordination. If he confesses, with Descartes,¹²⁵ that he doesn’t know how to reconcile [10] these things, then he’s trying to launch against me the same weapon which has pierced him. But it’s no use. If you’ll examine my position attentively, you’ll see that everything in it is consistent, etc.

[The Hague, October 1674]¹²⁶

[IV/268] LETTER 59 (OP)

TO THE MOST EXCELLENT AND ACUTE PHILOSOPHER, B. D. S. FROM EHRENFRIED WALTHER VON TSCHIRNHAUS

Most Excellent Sir,

When shall we obtain your method¹²⁷ of rightly governing the reason in acquiring knowledge of unknown truths, along with General matters [20] in Physics? I know that you have made great progress in these things. The first was already known to me, and the second may be learned from the Lemmas added to the second Part of the Ethics,¹²⁸ by which many difficulties in Physics are easily solved.

If you have the time and the opportunity, I humbly ask you for the [25] true Definition of Motion and its explanation, and how, since extension, insofar as it is conceived through itself, is indivisible, immutable, etc., we can deduce a priori that so many things, in such great varieties, can arise, and consequently, the existence of the shape in the particles of a body, which [shapes] nevertheless vary in each body, and are different from the shapes of the parts which constitute the form of another body?

[IV/269] When I was with you, you indicated to me the method you use for finding truths not yet known. By experience I know that this Method is very excellent, and still very easy, as far as I have understood it. I can affirm that just by observing it, I have made great progress in Mathematics. [5] I would like, therefore, for you to give me the true definition of an adequate idea, of a true idea, of a false idea, of a fictitious idea and of a doubtful idea.

I have tried to discover the difference between a true idea and an adequate idea, but so far all I have learned is this: when I investigated a subject, and a certain concept or idea, to find out whether this true [10] idea would also be an adequate idea of some thing, I asked myself what the cause of this idea or concept was. When I had found that, I asked again what the cause of this concept was. And so I proceeded, always seeking the causes of the causes of the ideas, until I found a cause of which I could not see any further cause, other than that, among all the [15] possible ideas I have in me, this one also exists.

For example, if we’re asking what the true origin of our Errors consists in, Descartes will reply that we give our assent to things we have not yet clearly perceived. But though this is a true idea of the thing, I will still not be able to determine everything it’s necessary to know [20] about it, unless I also have an adequate idea of the thing.¹²⁹ To achieve this I ask again about the cause of this concept: why it happens that we give our assent to things we don’t clearly understand. I reply that this happens because we lack knowledge. But here it’s not possible to ask again what the cause of our not knowing certain things is. And from [25] that I see that I’ve uncovered an adequate idea of our errors.

Meanwhile, I ask you this: because it’s established that many things expressed in infinite ways have an adequate idea of themselves, and that from any adequate idea anything which can be known about the thing can be derived—though they may be elicited more easily from one idea than from another—is there a means of knowing which of [30] two ideas must be used in preference to the other?

For example, an adequate idea of a circle consists in the equality of the radii, but it also consists in the infinite rectangles, equal to one another, which are made from the segments of two lines [intersecting within the circle].¹³⁰ So it has infinite further expressions, each of which explains the adequate nature of the circle. And though from each [IV/270] of these everything else which can be known about the circle can be deduced, still, it can be done much more easily from one of these than from the other. So anyone who considers the ordinates of curves will deduce many things which concern their measurement. But we’ll do this more easily if we consider the Tangents, etc.¹³¹

[5] In this way I wanted to indicate how far I’ve progressed in this Inquiry. I long for its completion—or if I’ve made a mistake somewhere, its correction—as well as the Definition I desire. Farewell.

5 January 1675

LETTER 60 (OP)

TO THE VERY NOBLE AND LEARNED EHRENFRIED WALTHER VON TSCHIRNHAUS FROM B. D. S.

Reply to the Preceding

Most Noble Sir,

[15] I don’t recognize any difference between a true idea and an adequate one, except that the term “true” concerns only the agreement of the idea with its object, whereas the term “adequate” concerns the nature of the idea in itself. So really there’s no difference between a true idea [20] and an adequate one except for that extrinsic relation. To know which of the many ideas of a thing is sufficient for deducing all its properties, I pay attention to one thing only: that the idea or definition of the thing expresses the efficient cause.

For example, in investigating the properties of a circle, I ask whether from the idea of a circle according to which it consists of infinite rectangles, [25] I could deduce all its properties. I ask, I say, whether this idea involves the efficient cause of the circle. Since it doesn’t, I seek another: viz. that a circle is the space described by a line one end of which is fixed [IV/271] and the other moving. Since this Definition now expresses the efficient cause, I know I can deduce all the properties of the circle from it, etc.

Similarly, when I define God as a supremely perfect Being,¹³² since that definition doesn’t express the efficient cause (for I understand [5] the efficient cause to be both internal and external), I won’t be able to derive all God’s properties from it. But when I define God to be a Being [absolutely infinite], etc. (see E I D6), [I can derive all God’s properties from it]. As for the other things, concerning motion and Method, because they aren’t yet written out in an orderly fashion, I [10] reserve them for another occasion.

As regards your contention that he who considers the ordinates of Curves will deduce many things about their measurement, but that he’ll do this more easily by considering the Tangents, etc., I think the contrary: that by considering the Tangents many other things will be [15] deduced with greater difficulty than by considering the ordinates in sequence. And I maintain absolutely that from certain properties of a thing (whatever idea is given) some things can be discovered more easily, others with greater difficulty—though they all concern the Nature of the thing. But I think it necessary to pay attention to just this one [20] thing: we should seek an idea from which all things can be elicited, as I said above. For if I want to deduce from a thing everything possible, it follows that the last things will be more difficult than the first, etc.

[The Hague, January 1675]¹³³

LETTER 61 (OP)

TO THE MOST DISTINGUISHED MR. B. D. S. FROM HENRY OLDENBURG

With Warmest Regards

The Very Learned Mr. Bourgeois, a Doctor of Medicine from Caen, [IV/272] and an adherent of the Reformed Religion, is about to take a trip to the Netherlands. This offers me a convenient opportunity I don’t want to miss: to let you know in this way that some weeks ago I sent you thanks for your Treatise [the TTP], which you had sent me (though [5] it was never delivered). But I doubt whether my letter ever reached you. In it I indicated my opinion of that Treatise, which now, having subsequently examined and weighed the matter more carefully, I certainly think was premature.¹³⁴

At that time certain things seemed to me to tend to the detriment of Religion, when I measured it by the standard provided by the common [10] herd of Theologians, and the accepted Formulas of the Confessions (which seem to be too full of partisan zeal). But now, as I rethink the whole matter more deeply, many things occur to me which persuade me that you are so far from trying to harm true religion, or solid philosophy, that on the contrary you are working to commend and establish the authentic purpose of the Christian Religion, and indeed, [15] the divine sublimity and excellence of a fruitful Philosophy.

Since, therefore, I now believe that in your heart you have this intention [to advance the cause of true Christianity], I should like to ask you earnestly to be kind enough to explain what you are now preparing and thinking about for that purpose, in frequent letters to your old and honest Friend, who longs for the happiest outcome of such a [20] godly plan. I solemnly promise you that I will not divulge any of this to any mortal, if you ask me not to. I shall only endeavor to gradually dispose the minds of good and wise Men to embrace those truths you sometimes bring into a fuller light, and to abolish the prejudices conceived against your Meditations.

[25] If I’m not mistaken, you seem to see very deeply into the nature and powers of the human Mind, and its Union with our Body. I earnestly implore you to please teach me your thoughts on this theme.

Farewell, Most Excellent Sir, and continue to be well-disposed to a Most Zealous Admirer of your Teaching and excellence,

Henry Oldenburg

London, 8 June 1675

[IV/273] LETTER 62 (OP)

TO THE MOST DISTINGUISHED MR. B. D. S. FROM HENRY OLDENBURG

[5] Now that Our Correspondence has been so happily resumed, Most Distinguished Sir, I don’t want to fail in the duty of a friend by neglecting it. From the reply you gave me on 5 July,¹³⁵ I understand that you intend to publish that Five-part Treatise of yours [the Ethics]. Let me urge you, I beg you, from the sincerity of your affection toward me, [10] not to mix into it anything which might seem to any extent to weaken the practice of Religious virtue, especially since this degenerate and dissolute age chases after nothing more avidly than doctrines whose consequences seem to support the vices running riot among us.

As for other matters, I won’t decline to receive copies of the Treatise [15] you mention. I should only like to ask this: that they be addressed, when the time comes, to a certain Dutch merchant living in London, who will make sure that they are passed on to me afterward. There’ll be no need to mention that you have sent me books of this kind. Provided they come safely into my possession, I have no doubt that it will be convenient for me [20] to distribute them from here to my friends, and to get a just price for them.

Farewell, and when you have time, reply to

Your Most Devoted,
Henry Oldenburg
London, 22 July 1675

[IV/274a] LETTER 63 (A)

TO THE MOST EXCELLENT AND ACUTE PHILOSOPHER, B. D. S. FROM G. H. SCHULLER

Most Noble and Excellent Sir,

I would blush for my long silence up to this point, for which I could be accused of not being grateful for the favor you, in Your Benevolence, have shown me (who did not deserve it), if I did not think that in Your noble kindness You are inclined to excuse rather than to accuse, and [10] if I did not know that that same kindness devotes itself, for the common Good of your Friends, to such serious meditations that it would be injurious and harmful to disturb them without a valid reason. That is why I have been silent, and was content in the meantime to learn from friends that You are in good health.

[15] But now I write to let you know that our most noble friend, Mr. von Tschirnhaus, who is still in England, enjoys the same good health, and that he has asked me three times, in his letters to me, to send his regards and respectful greetings to you. He has also asked me repeatedly to propose a solution to the following doubts, and at the same time to ask for the reply we desire.¹³⁶

[20] [First,] would you please, Sir, convince us by some probative [IV/275a] demonstration,¹³⁷ not by a reduction to impossibility, that We cannot know more attributes of God than thought and extension? Furthermore, does it follow from this that, in contrast to us, creatures consisting of those other attributes cannot conceive extension. In this way it would [5] seem that there must be as many worlds established as there are attributes of God?¹³⁸ For example, our World of extension has, so to speak, a certain size.¹³⁹ Would there also be Worlds of the same size, consisting of other attributes, in which, as we perceive nothing besides extension (except thought), the creatures of those Worlds would have to perceive [10] nothing but the attribute of their own World and thought?

Second, since God’s intellect differs from our intellect both in Essence and in existence,¹⁴⁰ it will have nothing in common with our intellect, and therefore, by I P3, God’s intellect cannot be the cause of our intellect.

[15] Third, in P10S you say that nothing in Nature is clearer than that each Being must be conceived under some attribute (which I see very well), and that the more reality or Being it has, the more attributes belong to it. From this it would seem to follow that there are Beings which have three, four, etc., attributes. Nevertheless, one could infer [20] from what has been demonstrated that each Being consists of only two attributes, namely, of some definite attribute of God and the idea of that attribute.

[IV/276a] Fourth, I would like Examples of the things produced immediately by God, and those produced by the mediation of some infinite modification. Thought and extension seem to me to be of the first kind; of the second kind, in thought, Intellect, and in extension, Motion, etc.¹⁴¹

[5] These are the things our Tschirnhausen and I would like Your Excellence to clear up, if your time permits. For the rest he reports that Messrs. Boyle and Oldenburg had formed a strange conception of Your person. Not only has he disabused them of this conception, he [10] has also added reasons inducing them, not only to think most worthily and favorably again of your person, but also to value most highly the Theological-Political Treatise.¹⁴² In accordance with Your instructions,¹⁴³ I did not dare to inform You of this. Be assured that I am at your service in every way, and that I remain,

Most Noble Sir,

Your very devoted servant,

G. H. Schuller

Amsterdam, 25 July 1675

Mr. van Gent¹⁴⁴ sends you his greetings, as does J. Riew.

[IV/277] LETTER 64 (OP)

TO THE VERY LEARNED AND ABLE MR. G. H. SCHULLER FROM B. D. S.

Reply to the Preceding

Most Able Sir,

I rejoice that finally the opportunity has presented itself for you to cheer me with one of your letters, which are always so welcome. I beg you to do this frequently, etc.

[10] Now to the doubts. To the first I say that the human Mind can achieve knowledge only of the things which the idea of an actually existing body involves, or what can be inferred from this idea itself. For the power of each thing is defined solely by its essence (by E III P7). Furthermore, (by II P13) the essence of the Mind consists only [15] in this, that it is the idea of an actually existing Body. Therefore, the Mind’s power of understanding extends only to those things which this idea of the Body contains in itself, or which follow from it. But this idea of the Body neither involves nor expresses any other attributes of God than Extension and Thought. For (by II P6) its object, that is, [20] the Body, has God for a cause insofar as he is considered under the attribute of Extension, and not insofar as he is considered under any other attribute. So (by I A6) this idea of the Body involves knowledge of God only insofar as he is considered under the attribute of Extension.

Next, this idea, insofar as it is a mode of thinking, also (by the same [25] Proposition)¹⁴⁵ has God for a cause insofar as he is a thinking thing, and not insofar as he is considered under another attribute. Therefore, (by the same Axiom) the idea of this idea involves the knowledge of God insofar as he is considered under Thought, but not insofar as he is considered under any other attribute.

It is evident, then, that the human Mind, or the idea of the human [IV/278] Body, neither involves nor expresses any other attributes of God besides these two. Moreover no other attribute of God (by I P10) can be inferred or conceived from these two attributes, or from their affections. So I conclude that the human Mind cannot achieve knowledge of any other [5] attribute of God beyond these, as I proposed.

But you ask, in addition, whether this must not establish as many worlds as there are attributes? See E II P7S. Moreover, this Proposition could be demonstrated more easily by reducing the thing to an absurdity. Indeed, I usually prefer that kind of demonstration when [10] the Proposition is negative, because it agrees better with the nature of such things.

But because you ask for a positive demonstration only, I pass to the second question, which is, whether one thing can be produced by another from which it differs, both in its essence and in its existence. For things which differ in this way from one another seem to have nothing in common. But since all singular things, except those produced [15] by their likes, differ from their causes, both in their essence and in their existence, I do not see any reason for doubt here.

Moreover, I believe I have already explained sufficiently in what sense I understand that God is the efficient cause both of the essence and of [20] the existence of things (in E I P25C&S). We form the axiom of I P10S from the idea we have of an absolutely infinite Being (as I indicated at the end of that Scholium), and not from the fact that there are, or could be, beings which have three, four, etc., attributes.

Finally, the examples [of infinite modes] which you ask for: examples [25] of the first kind [i.e., of things produced immediately by God] are, in Thought, absolutely infinite intellect, and in Extension, motion and rest; an example of the second kind [i.e., of those produced by the mediation of some infinite modification] is the face of the whole Universe, which,¹⁴⁶ however much it may vary in infinite ways, nevertheless always remains the same. On this, see L7S before II P14 [II/101/25–102/18].

[30] With this, most excellent Sir, I believe I have replied to the objections you and our friend have raised. Nevertheless, if you think some ground for uneasiness still remains, I ask you not to hesitate to convey it to me, so that I may remove it too, if I can.

Farewell, etc.

The Hague, 29 July 1675

[IV/279] LETTER 65 (OP)

TO THE MOST ACUTE AND LEARNED PHILOSOPHER B. D. S. FROM EHRENFRIED WALTHER VON TSCHIRNHAUS

Most Illustrious Sir,

I ask you for a Demonstration of what you say: viz. that the soul cannot perceive more attributes of God than Extension and Thought. Indeed, though I see this evidently, still it seems to me that the contrary [10] can be deduced from E II P7S. Perhaps this is only because I don’t grasp the meaning of this Scholium properly. I’ve decided, therefore, to explain how I deduce these things, begging you urgently, Sir, to be willing to come to my aid with your accustomed kindness, wherever I don’t follow your meaning rightly.

Here’s how things stand. Although I gather from that [scholium] [15] that the world is certainly unique, still it’s no less clear also from that [scholium] that it is expressed in infinite ways, and therefore each singular thing is expressed in infinite ways. From this it seems to follow that the Modification which constitutes my Mind and the Modification which expresses my Body, although it’s one and the same Modification, [20] is nevertheless expressed in infinite ways, in one way through Thought, in another through Extension, in a third through an attribute of God unknown to me, and so on to infinity (since there are infinitely many Attributes of God, and the Order and Connection of the Modifications seems to be the same in all).

[25] From this, now, the Question arises why the Mind, which represents a certain Modification, a Modification expressed not only in Extension, but also in infinite other ways, why, I ask, does the Mind perceive only the Modification expressed through Extension, i.e., the human Body, and no other expression through other attributes?

[30] Time does not permit me to pursue these matters at greater length. Perhaps all these doubts will be removed by more frequent Meditations.

London, 12 August 1675

[IV/280] LETTER 66 (OP)

TO THE VERY NOBLE AND LEARNED MR. EHRENFRIED WALTHER VON TSCHIRNHAUS FROM B. D. S.

Reply to the Preceding

Most Noble Sir,

For the rest,¹⁴⁷ to reply to your Objection, I say that although each thing is expressed in infinite ways [modes?] in the infinite intellect of God, nevertheless those infinite ideas by which it is expressed cannot [10] constitute one and the same Mind of a singular thing, but infinitely many [minds], since each of the infinite ideas has no connection with any other, as I’ve explained in the Scholium to E II P7, and as is evident from I P10. If you attend just a bit to these things, you’ll see that that [15] there is no remaining difficulty, etc.

The Hague, 18 August 1675

LETTER 67 (OP)

TO THE MOST LEARNED AND ACUTE MR. B. D. S. FROM ALBERT BURGH

Many Greetings

[1] When I was leaving my Country, I promised to write to you if anything worth mentioning happened on the trip.¹⁴⁸ Since something of the greatest importance has happened, I’m discharging that obligation [25] by letting you know that by God’s Infinite Mercy I have been brought back into the Catholic Church, and made a member of it. How this [IV/281] happened you will be able to understand in more detail from what I’ve written to that Most Illustrious and Knowledgeable Mr. D. Kranen,¹⁴⁹ Professor at Leiden. Now I’ll add a few words for your benefit.

[5] [2] The more I’ve previously admired the subtlety and acuteness of your intelligence, the more I now lament and weep for you. Though you’re a very intelligent man, and have received a mind endowed by God with excellent gifts, though you love and are eager for the truth, nevertheless you’ve let yourself be led astray and deceived by that [10] wretched and very proud Prince of wicked Spirits. What is your whole Philosophy but sheer illusion and a Fantasy? Yet you commit to it, not only your peace of mind in this life, but the eternal salvation of your soul.

See what a wretched foundation all your ideas rest on. You presume that you’ve finally discovered the true Philosophy. How do you know [15] that your Philosophy is the best of all those which have ever been taught in the world, are still taught, or will ever be taught in the future? Not to get into the discoveries of future ages, have you examined all the Philosophies, both ancient and modern, taught here, and in India, and [20] everywhere else on the planet? And even if you have examined them all properly, how do you know that you have chosen the best?

You will say: “My Philosophy agrees with right reason, and the others are contrary to it.” But all the other Philosophers—except for your disciples—disagree with you; with the same right, they proclaim [25] the same thing about themselves and their Philosophy as you do about yours. And they accuse you of falsity and error, as you do them. It’s evident, then, that to let the truth of your Philosophy shine forth, you must offer reasons which are not common to the other Philosophies, but can be applied only to yours—or else you must confess that your [30] Philosophy is as uncertain and trifling as all the others.

[3] But now, confining myself to your book (to which you have given that impious title),¹⁵⁰ and mixing together your Philosophy with your Theology—since you yourself really mix them together (though with Devilish cunning you pretend that one is separate from the other and that they have different principles)—I proceed further.

[IV/282] [4] Perhaps you will say, then: “The others have not read Holy Scripture as often as I have, and I prove my opinions from Holy Scripture itself, the recognition of whose authority makes the difference between Christians and everyone else in the world.” But how? “I explain Holy [5] Scripture by applying the clear passages to the more obscure,¹⁵¹ and from that interpretation of mine I compose my Doctrines (or confirm those previously produced in my brain).”

But I beseech you to reflect seriously on what you’re saying. How do you know that you are making that application properly? and [how do you know] that that application, rightly made, is sufficient for the [10] interpretation of Holy Scripture? (and thus that you are establishing your interpretation of Holy Scripture well?) Especially when the Catholics say—and it’s quite true—that the whole Word of God has not been given to us in writings, and so that Holy Scripture can’t be explained from Holy Scripture alone—not by one man, but not even by the [15] Church itself, which is the only interpreter of Holy Scripture. For we must also consult the Apostolic Traditions. This is proved from Holy Scripture itself and the testimony of the Holy Fathers, and it is equally in agreement with right reason and experience. So, since that principle of yours is quite false, and leads to ruin, where will that leave your [20] whole teaching, which is built on, and depends on, this false foundation?

[5] If, then, you believe in Christ crucified,¹⁵² recognize that wicked heresy of yours, repent the perversion of your nature, and be reconciled with the Church. [6] For how else do you prove your heresies, but in [25] the way all Heretics who have ever left God’s Church, leave it even now, and ever will leave it in the future, have done, do, and will do? They all use the same principle you do—that is, Holy Scripture alone—to form and establish their teachings. [7] Don’t flatter yourself that perhaps the Calvinists (or the Reformed, as they’re called), the Lutherans, the [30] Mennonites, the Socinians, etc., cannot refute your Doctrine. For as I’ve already said, they’re all just as wretched as you are, and are sitting with you in the shadow of death.

[8] If you don’t believe in Christ, you’re more wretched than I can [IV/283] say. But the remedy is easy. Repent your sins, realize the fatal arrogance of your wretched and insane reasoning. You do not believe in Christ. Why? You will say: “because the Teaching and life of Christ do not agree at all with my principles, any more than the Teaching of Christians about Christ himself agrees with my Teaching.” But I say again: are you [5] then so bold that you think you are greater than all those who have ever risen up in the State or in God’s Church—than the Patriarchs, the Prophets, the Apostles, the Martyrs, the Doctors, the Confessors, and the Virgins, than innumerable Saints, indeed, blasphemously, than the Lord Jesus Christ himself. Do you alone surpass them in teaching, in [10] your way of living, and in everything? Will you, wretched little man, base little earthworm, indeed, ashes, food for worms, exult that you are better than the Incarnate, Infinite Wisdom of the Eternal Father? Do you alone reckon yourself wiser and greater than all those who have ever been in God’s Church since the beginning of the world, and [15] who have believed, or even now believe, that Christ will come or has already come? On what foundation does this rash, insane, deplorable, and accursed arrogance of yours rest?

[9] You deny that Christ, the son of the living God, the Word of the eternal wisdom of the Father, was made manifest in the flesh, suffered [20] for mankind, and was crucified. Why? Because all that does not agree with your principles. But beyond what has already been proven—that you do not have true principles, but false, rash, absurd principles—I now say further that even if you depended on true principles and built everything on them, you still could not explain everything in the [25] world, what has happened or is happening. Nor can you boldly assert that when something seems to be contrary to those principles, it is for that reason really impossible or false. For there are a great many things—indeed, countless things—which, even if something certain can be known in natural things, you will nevertheless not be able to explain [30] at all. You will not even be able to remove the manifest contradiction between such Phenomena and your explanations of the other things, which you take to be most certain. From your principles you will not explain completely any of the things brought about in witchcraft and enchantments by the mere pronunciation of certain words, or by simply carrying the words or signs, written on some material, or the astonishing [IV/284] Phenomena of those possessed by Demons.¹⁵³ I personally have seen various examples of all of these, and I know reports of countless such phenomena, very certain testimony from a great many highly credible persons, speaking with one voice.

[5] What will you be able to judge about the essences of all things, even if it is granted that some of the ideas you have in mind agree adequately with the essences of the things whose ideas they are? For you can never be confident about whether the ideas of all created things are possessed in the human mind naturally, or whether many, if not all, [10] can be, and really are, produced in it by external objects and even by the suggestion of good or evil spirits, and an evident Divine revelation. How will you be able from your principles, therefore, without consulting the testimonies of other men, and the experience of things (to say nothing of subjecting your judgment to God’s omnipotence), to define [15] precisely and establish for certain the actual existence or non-existence of the following things, the possibility or impossibility of their existing (that is, whether they actually exist or not, or can or cannot exist in nature): a divining rod for detecting metals and subterranean waters; the [20] stone the Alchemists seek; the power of words and symbols; the apparitions of various kinds of spirits, both good and evil, and their powers, knowledge and activities; the reappearance of plants and flowers in glass flasks after they have been burned; Syrens; the gnomes which, men say, [25] frequently show themselves in mines; the Antipathies and Sympathies of a great many things; the Impenetrability of the human body, etc.?

No, my Philosopher, you could not determine anything at all about these things, even if your native intelligence were a thousand times more subtle and acute than it is. And if you trust your own unaided intellect in judging these and similar matters, certainly you are already [30] thinking in the same way about things which are unknown to you, or which you have not experienced, and which you therefore consider impossible, although they really ought to seem to you only uncertain until you have been convinced by the testimony of a great many credible witnesses.

Julius Caesar, I imagine, would have judged the same way, if someone had said to him that a powder can be made, and will become common [IV/285] in later ages, whose power is so great that it makes castles, whole cities, and even mountains themselves, fly up into the air, and that immediately after being ignited, whatever place it is closed up in, it expands in a wonderful way, and breaks up everything which impedes its action. [5] For Julius Caesar would not have believed this at all, but would have mocked this man with hearty laughter, as wanting to persuade him of a thing contrary to his judgement and experience, and to the sum total of military science.

[10] But let’s get back on track. Wretched man, puffed up with Diabolic pride, if you’re not familiar with the things mentioned above, and [10] cannot decide about them, what rash judgments will you make about the awe-inspiring Mysteries of the life and Passion of Christ, which the very Catholics who teach them warn are incomprehensible? What trifling, useless raving will you babble about the countless Miracles and signs which after Christ[’s Ascension]¹⁵⁴ his Apostles and Disciples, and [15] subsequently several thousands of the Saints, made known in testimony to, and confirmation of, the truth of the Catholic Faith, and which, through the omnipotent virtue of God, and through the same omnipotent Mercy and Goodness of God, happen even in our days, without number, throughout the whole earth? And if you cannot contradict [20] these things, as you certainly cannot, why continue to cry out against it? Give in, repent your errors and sins, clothe yourself in humility, and be born again.

[11] But I should like to get down to the truth of what has happened, which is really the foundation of the Christian Religion. How [25] will you dare to deny, if you consider it properly, the power of the consensus of so many tens of thousands of men—of whom several thousand far surpassed, and surpass, you in learning, in refinement, in true, precise solidity, and in perfection of life—who all, unanimously and with one voice, affirm that Christ, the Son incarnate of the living [30] God, suffered, was crucified, and died for the sins of the human race, that he was resurrected, transfigured, and reigns in the heavens, God with the eternal Father, in unity with the Holy Spirit, and the rest of the things which belong to this, the countless miracles which have been done in God’s Church by the same Lord Jesus, and afterward, in his name, by the Apostles and the rest of the Saints, by the Divine power and Omnipotence, miracles which not only surpass men’s grasp, [IV/286] but also contradict common sense? Countless material indications and visible signs of these miracles remain to this day, spread far and wide across the globe, and [these miracles] are still being done.

Would I not be permitted, in the same way,¹⁵⁵ to deny that the ancient [5] Romans ever existed, and that the Emperor Julius Caesar, after he crushed the Freedom of the Republic, changed their government into a Monarchy? Of course, I would have to ignore the great number of monuments of the Roman power, visible to everyone, which time has left us, and the testimony of all those weighty authors who have written [10] Histories of the Roman Republic and Monarchy, which relate a great many particular things about Julius Caesar. And I would have to ignore the judgment of so many thousands of men who either have seen these monuments themselves or have put their trust in them, and still put their trust in them (since they are said to exist by countless witnesses), as they did and do put their trust in the histories mentioned.

[15] On this foundation, namely, that last night I dreamt that the monuments remaining from the Romans are not real things, but mere illusions, and similarly, that what is said about the Romans is like what the books they call “Romances” childishly relate about Amadis de Gaul [20] and similar Heroes, and that Julius Caesar either never existed, or if he existed, was a Melancholic man who did not really crush the Freedom of the Romans, or set himself up on an Imperial Throne, but was induced to believe he had accomplished these great deeds, either by his own foolish imagination or by the persuasion of friends flattering him.

[25] In the same way, in short, could I not deny that the kingdom of China was occupied by the Tartars, or that Constantinople is the seat of the Turkish Empire, and countless similar things? But if I denied these things, would anyone think I was in possession of my faculties? Would they excuse my deplorable madness? All these things rest on [30] the common agreement of several thousand men, and for that reason their certainty is quite evident. It’s impossible that everyone who asserts such things (and a great many other things) would either have deceived themselves, or have wanted to deceive others, through the succession of so many centuries, indeed, in a great many things, from the first years of the world to the present day.

[12] Consider, second, that from the beginning of the world to this [IV/287] day, God’s Church has been spread without interruption, and continues unchanged and solid, whereas all the other Religions, whether Pagan or Heretical, have at least had a beginning afterward, if they have not also come to an end already. The same must also be said about the [5] Monarchs of kingdoms and the opinions of any Philosophers.

[13] Consider, third, that through the coming of Christ in the flesh God’s Church was transformed from the worship of the Old Testament to that of the New, founded by Christ himself, the Son of the living God, and spread after that by the Apostles and their Disciples and [10] successors. As the world judged them, these were unlearned men, who nevertheless confounded all the Philosophers, even though they taught the Christian Doctrine, which is contrary to common sense,¹⁵⁶ and exceeds and transcends all human reasoning. They were, in the judgment of the world, undistinguished men, base and ignoble, who received [15] no aid from the power of Kings and earthly Princes, but who, on the contrary, were persecuted by them with every kind of tribulation, and suffered all the other misfortunes of the world. The more those Supremely Powerful Roman Emperors strove to hamper their work, and indeed, to crush it, killing as many Christians as they could, with [20] every kind of martyrdom, the more it increased.

Consider that in this way Christ’s Church spread throughout the world in a short period of time, and that finally, the Roman Emperor himself having been converted to the Christian faith, along with the Kings and Princes of Europe, the Church Hierarchy increased its power to such an extent that today we find it wonderful. Consider that all [25] this was brought about through love, gentleness, patience, trust in God, and all the other Christian virtues (not by the din of warfare, the force of large armies, and the devastation of territories, as worldly Princes extend their boundaries), so that even the gates of Hell will not prevail against the Church, as Christ promised it.¹⁵⁷

[30] Weigh also here the terrible and unspeakably severe punishment by which the Jews were forced down to the utmost degree of wretchedness and disaster, because they were the authors of Christ’s crucifixion.¹⁵⁸ Read, think about, and then think again about, the Histories of all times. You will not find there that anything similar has happened to any other Society, not even in dreams.

[IV/288] [14] Notice, fourth, the properties included in the essence of the Catholic Church, which are really inseparable from that Church: namely,

[i] Antiquity, by which, since it took the place of the Jewish Religion, which at that time was the true [Religion],¹⁵⁹ it counts its beginning [5] from the time of Christ, sixteen and a half centuries ago, throughout which period it reckons an uninterrupted succession of its Pastors, and by which it alone possesses Divine, pure and uncorrupted Sacred Books, together with a tradition of God’s unwritten Word, equally certain and unstained;

[ii] Immutability, by which its Doctrine and the administration of the [10] Sacraments, as established by Christ himself and the Apostles, are preserved inviolate, and in their force, as is appropriate;

[iii] Infallibility, by which it determines and decides everything pertaining to the faith with the utmost authority, security and truth, according to the 'power bestowed on it by Christ for this end, and according to the [15] direction of the Holy Spirit, whose Bride the Church is.

[iv] Unreformability, since it cannot be corrupted or deceived, and cannot deceive, it is evident that it never needs reform;

[v] Unity, by which all its members believe the same thing, teach the same thing regarding faith, have one and the same altar and all the Sacraments in common, and finally, work together toward one and the [20] same end, obeying one another;

[vi] That no soul is Separable from it, under any pretext whatever, without at once incurring eternal damnation, unless before death it has been reunited with it through repentance—from this it is evident that all heresies have departed from it, whereas it always remains the same as [25] itself, constant, steadfast, and stable, as built on a Rock;

[vii] Its Tremendous Extent, by which it visibly spreads itself throughout the whole world; which cannot be asserted of any other Society, Schismatic, or Heretic, or Pagan, or of any other Political Regime or Philosophical Doctrine, since none of the cited properties of the Catholic Church [30] pertains, or can pertain, to any other Society; and finally,

[viii] Perpetuity to the end of the world, which the Way, the Truth and the Life himself has made sure, and which the experience of all the properties mentioned, promised and given to it likewise by Christ himself, through the Holy Spirit, also manifestly demonstrates.

[IV/289] Consider, fifth, that the admirable order by which the Church, such an immense body, is directed and governed indicates plainly that it depends very particularly on God’s Providence and that its administration is arranged, protected and directed amazingly by the Holy Spirit, as the harmony which is seen in all the things in this universe indicates the [5] Omnipotence, Wisdom and Infinite Providence which has created all things, and preserves them even now. For in no other society is such an excellent and strict order preserved without interruption.

Sixth, reflect on the following:

[10] [i] that countless Catholics of each sex, many of whom are still alive today (I myself have seen and known some of them), have lived wonderful and most holy lives;

[ii] that they have also performed many miracles, through the power of an omnipotent God, in the revered name of Jesus Christ;

[iii] that sudden conversions of a great many people, from a very bad life [15] to a better, truly Christian and holy life, still occur daily;

[iv] that in general the holier and more perfect Catholics are, the humbler they are, the more they consider themselves unworthy, and the more they yield to others the praise of a Holier life; and

[v] that even the greatest sinners nevertheless always retain a proper respect for Sacred Things, confess their own wickedness, accuse their [20] own vices and imperfections, and want to be freed from them, and so to be improved.

It can be said, then, that the most perfect Heretic or Philosopher who ever lived hardly deserves to be compared with the most imperfect Catholics. From this it is also clear, and follows most evidently, that Catholic Teaching is the wisest, and wonderful in its profundity—in [25] a word, that it surpasses all the other Teachings in the world, since it makes people better than those of any other Society, teaches them the secure path to peace of mind in this life, and delivers the eternal salvation of the soul to be achieved after this.

[30] Seventh, reflect seriously on the public confession of many Heretics hardened by obstinacy, and of the most serious Philosophers, that after they received the Catholic faith, they saw at last, and knew that previously they had been wretched, blind, ignorant, indeed, foolish and mad, when, swollen with pride and puffed up with arrogance, they falsely [IV/290] persuaded themselves that they were elevated far above the rest in doctrine, learning, and perfection of life. Some of these afterward led a most holy life and left behind the memory of countless miracles. Some faced up to martyrdom cheerfully and with the greatest rejoicing. Some [5] also (among them St. Augustine) became the subtlest, deepest, wisest and therefore, most useful Doctors of the Church, indeed, its pillars.

Finally, reflect on how wretched and restless the life of Atheists is. Sometimes they manifest great cheerfulness and try to seem to be [10] leading a pleasant life, with the greatest internal peace of mind. But see what unfortunate and horrible deaths they experience. I myself have seen several examples of this, and I know, both from the accounts of others, and from History, a great many other, indeed, countless examples. [15] Learn from the example of these men to be wise in time.

In this way, then, you see, or at least I hope you see, how rashly you are committing yourself to the opinions of your brain. For if Christ is the true God, and is at the same time man, as is most certain, see what you are reduced to. If you persevere in your abominable errors [20] and most grievous sins, what else can you expect but eternal damnation? Think about how horrible that is. Think how little reason you have to mock the whole world (your wretched disciples excepted)! How foolishly proud you are, puffed up with the thought of the excellence of your intellect and with wonder at your very vain, and indeed, quite [25] false and impious teaching! How shamefully you make yourself more wretched than the beasts themselves, by denying yourself freedom of the will! Nevertheless, if you do not really experience or recognize this freedom, how can you deceive yourself by thinking that you are worthy of the greatest praise, and indeed, of the most exact imitation?

[30] If you don’t want God or your Neighbor to have mercy on you—far be it from me to think this—may you yourself at least have mercy on your wretchedness, by which you may strive to make yourself more wretched than you are now, or less wretched than if you had continued in this way.

Repent, Philosophic man. Recognize that your foolishness is wise and your wisdom mad. From a proud man, become humble, and you [IV/291] will be healed. Worship Christ in the most holy Trinity, so that he may deign to have mercy on your wretchedness, and receive you. Read the Holy Fathers and the Doctors of the Church, and let them instruct you concerning what you ought to do, that you may not perish, but may have eternal life. Consult Catholic men who have been deeply [5] instructed in their faith, and are living a good life, and they will tell you many things you never knew, by which you will be astounded.

I have indeed written this Letter to you with a truly Christian intention: first, that you may know the love I have for you, even though you are a Pagan; and second, that I may call upon you not to persist [10] in corrupting others too.

I conclude with this: God wants to rescue your soul from eternal damnation, provided you are willing. Don’t hesitate to obey the Lord, who has called you so often through others, and now calls you again, perhaps for the last time, through me. Having attained this grace by [15] the inexpressible Mercy of God himself, I pray wholeheartedly that you will attain the same grace. Do not refuse. If you do not listen to God now, when he is calling you, the wrath of the Lord himself will be inflamed against you. There is a danger that you will be left behind by his Infinite Mercy and become a wretched victim of the Divine Justice, which consumes all things in its wrath. May the Omnipotent [20] God avert this, for the greater glory of his Name and the Salvation of your soul, and as an example to be followed, bringing salvation to the many unfortunate people you have led into Idolatry, through the Lord, our Savior, Jesus Christ, who with the Eternal Father lives and reigns in unity with the Holy Spirit, God through all ages of ages. Amen.

Florence, 11 September 1675

[IV/292] LETTER 67BIS¹⁶⁰

LETTER FROM NICHOLAS STENO TO THE REFORMER OF THE NEW PHILOSOPHY CONCERNING THE TRUE PHILOSOPHY

[5] [1] In the Book they say you have authored—which I myself also suspect, for various reasons, that you have authored—I notice that you bring everything back to the public security,¹⁶¹ or rather, to your security, which, according to you, is the goal of public security. But you have embraced means contrary to the security you desire, and you have neglected completely that part of you whose security ought uniquely to be desired.

[10] That you have chosen means contrary to the security you desire is evident from the fact that while you seek the public peace, you are throwing everything into confusion, and that while you strive to deliver yourself from all dangers, you are exposing yourself, quite unnecessarily, to the greatest danger. You have neglected completely that part of yourself which you ought especially to be anxious about, as is established [15] by the fact that you permit everyone to think and say whatever they like about God, provided what they say does not destroy the obedience which, according to you, ought to be given, not so much to God, as to man. This is the same as restricting every human good to the goods of a civil order, that is, to the goods of the body.¹⁶² You don’t help yourself by saying that you reserve the care of the soul for philosophy: your [20] philosophy treats the soul by a system formed from suppositions and you leave those unsuited to your philosophy in a condition of life like that of automata, devoid of a soul, and born only for the body.

[2] I see a man wandering in this darkness who was once a close friend [25] of mine, and who even now, I hope, is not an enemy. I am convinced that the memory of our former companionship preserves even now a mutual love. And I remember that I too was once stuck in very serious errors, even if not exactly the same ones. So the more the magnitude of the danger from which I have been liberated makes evident God’s [30] mercy to me, the greater the compassion with which I am moved to pray that you receive the same heavenly grace I have attained, by no [IV/293] merit of my own, but only by Christ’s kindness.

To add deeds to my prayers, I offer myself to you as most ready to examine with you all the arguments it may seem suitable to examine, to discover and maintain the true way to true security. Although [5] your writings show you to be very far from the truth, still, the love of peace and of the truth I have seen in you in the past, which is not yet quenched in this darkness, makes me hope that you will lend a receptive ear to our Church, if only it has been adequately explained to you what it promises everyone, and what it offers those willing to approach.

[10] [3] As for the first, the Church promises everyone true security, eternal security, or the enduring peace which accompanies infallible truth. At the same time it offers the necessary means for attaining such a great good: first, a certain pardon for evil actions; second, a most perfect standard for acting rightly; third, the true, effective perfection [15] of all activities according to this standard. It offers these things, not only to the learned, or to those endowed with a refined intelligence, and not occupied with a variety of affairs, but indiscriminately, to all people, of whatever age, sex or condition.

Lest this astonish you, know that those who approach are required, not just not to resist, but even to cooperate (though this cooperation [20] happens by his acting within, who proclaims his external word through the visible members of the Church). Though he says to anyone who approaches that he must grieve for his sins before the eyes of God, that he must show before the eyes of men works appropriate to this grief, and that he must believe such and such things concerning God, the soul, and the body, etc., nevertheless, his meaning here is not that [25] one who approaches would have to advance toward these things by his own forces. For nothing else is required, for doing and believing such things, than not to deny assent and cooperation. This alone is in his 'power, since willing those things, and when you will them, doing them, depend on the spirit of Christ, anticipating, accompanying, and perfecting our cooperation.

[30] If you have not yet understood this, I am not surprised. I will not in any way attempt to make you understand. It is not in my power to do that. But so that these things may not seem to you completely foreign to reason, I shall outline briefly the form of a Christian government, insofar as this can be done by a new resident of that state, or rather, by a stranger who still waits on its lowest benches. The [35] goal of this government is that all men should direct, not only all their external actions, but also their most secret thoughts according [IV/294] to the order established by the author of the universe, or what is the same, that in every work the soul sees God as its author and judge. In respect to this the life of each man infected with sins is divided into four stages.

[5] The first is that in which man acts in all things as if his thoughts were not subject to any judge. This is the condition of men who either have not yet been purified by baptism or have become hardened in sin after baptism. This stage is sometimes called blindness, because the soul has no concern for God’s seeing her—as is said in Wisdom 2: “Their wickedness has blinded them.”¹⁶³—and sometimes death, because the soul [10] lies as if buried under passing pleasures, in which sense Christ said “Let the dead bury their dead,”¹⁶⁴ and many other things of that kind. It is not contrary to this condition that they say many things (often true things) about God and the soul, but because they treat [God and the soul] as if they were distant or external objects, what they say about them is always doubtful, and often contradictory. [This condition results in] frequent [15] vices, if not in external acts, at least in thoughts. This is because the soul, like the dead, is destitute of a spirit to give life to her actions, and is moved by every puff of desire.

The second stage is when a man, not resisting either the external or the internal word of God, begins to be mindful of him who is calling, when he recognizes, by the beam of this supernatural light, that there [20] are many things false in his opinions and vicious in his actions, and commits himself totally to God, who, administering his Sacraments to him through his servants, grants him invisible grace by visible signs. This stage of those who are reborn is called infancy and childhood, and the word of God which is preached to them is compared to milk.

The third stage is reached when, by conquering concupiscence through [25] continuous exercise of the virtues, the soul is prepared to properly understand the mysteries hidden in sacred scripture, which she will not grasp until, already pure in heart, she has reached the fourth stage.

Then she [in the fourth stage] begins to see God and acquires the wisdom of the perfect. Here there is a perpetual, and sometimes also [30] mystical, union of the will. There are examples of this among us even today.

[4] Thus the whole program of Christianity strives for this: that the soul may be transformed from a state of death to one of life, that whereas before she had the mind’s eyes turned away from God, and fixed on error, now she always directs them away from every error, and has them turned toward God in everything, both the actions of body and those of the mind, willing and rejecting the same things [IV/295] her author, and the author of all order, has willed or rejected. So if you examine everything properly, you will find in Christianity alone the true philosophy, teaching things about God which are worthy of God, and about man which are in agreement with man, and leading its worshippers to the true perfection of all actions.

[5] [5] As for the second point, only the Catholic Church gives whatever it promises to those who do not resist it, for only the Catholic Church, in every age, has produced perfect examples of the virtues, and even today prepares for posterity’s veneration examples from people of every age, sex, and condition. You cannot legitimately doubt the trustworthiness with which it promises eternal security, if it provides, with utmost [10] fidelity, all the means ordained for this end, including miracles. I have not yet completed my fourth year in the Church, and already I have seen such examples of holiness that I am truly compelled to exclaim with David: “Your testimonies are most credible.”¹⁶⁵

I say nothing about the Bishops, I say nothing about the Priests. The words I have heard in intimate conversation with them were human [15] signs of the divine spirit, as I would witness with my own blood, such are their innocence of life and power of speaking. Nor shall I name the many who have embraced the strictest rule of life,¹⁶⁶ of whom I might affirm the same thing. I shall cite only examples of two kinds: people converted from the worst sort of life to the most holy; and laymen, as [20] you call them,¹⁶⁷ who nevertheless acquired sublime notions of God, without any study, at the feet of the crucified one. Of this kind I have known both men and women, employed in mechanical trades or bound to menial service, who by the practice of divine virtues were brought to understand wonderful things about God and the soul, people whose [25] lives were holy, whose words were Divine, and whose actions were not infrequently¹⁶⁸ miraculous, such as the prediction of future events, and other things which, for the sake of brevity, I do not mention.

I know what objections you can make to miracles. But we do not have faith in miracles alone.¹⁶⁹ Whenever we see that the effect of a miracle is the perfect conversion of someone’s soul from vices to virtues, [30] we rightly ascribe that to the author of all virtues. For of all miracles I consider this the very greatest: that someone who has passed thirty or forty years or more giving complete license to their desires, in a moment of time should have turned against all wickedness, and become the holiest example of the virtues. I have seen this with my own eyes, and with these hands embraced it. Frequently they moved me and others to tears of joy. There is no God like our God.¹⁷⁰

[IV/296] Indeed, if you reflect on the history of past times, and on the present condition of the Church, not [as it is represented] in the books of our opponents, nor by those among us who are either dead, or at least have not yet laid aside infancy, but, as is normally done in learning [5] every other teaching, from those who are considered true Catholics according to the profession of our own people, you will see that it has always stood by its promises and still does, every day. There you will find that evidence of credibility which will satisfy you, especially since you make a far milder judgment about the Roman Pontiff than the rest of our opponents¹⁷¹ and admit the necessity of good works. But I beseech [10] you to examine our doctrines in our writings, which your own teaching concerning the strength of prejudices will easily persuade you to do.

I would gladly have cited the passages of Scripture attributing authority to the Pontiff, which you yourself deny only because you do not find it in Scriptures and do not admit that the Christian Republic is like the [15] Republic of the Jews. But because your view about the interpretation of Scripture is different from our teaching, which admits only the interpretation of the Church, I pass over that argument at this time, and I say to the second argument that Christian government, which seeks only a unity of the Faith, of the Sacraments and of loving-kindness, admits [20] only one head, whose authority does not consist in making arbitrary innovations in whatever matter he pleases—that’s the slander of our opponents—but in this, that matters of divine law or things which are necessary should always remain unchanged, whereas matters of human law or things which are indifferent may change, as the Church shall, for just causes, have judged useful—for example, if it should see that [25] wicked men are misusing indifferent things to subvert those which are necessary. Hence in interpreting Holy Scripture, and in determining the doctrines of the Faith, it acts to preserve the doctrines and interpretations delivered by God through the Apostles, and to prohibit new and human doctrines and interpretations. I shall not speak about the other matters subject to his authority, since the unity of belief and action so [30] often enjoined by Christ should suffice to make you find monarchic government worthy of acceptance.

[7] Surely, therefore, if you are led by love of virtue, and if you delight in the perfection of actions, you must inquire diligently into all the societies in the world. Nowhere else will you find the pursuit of perfection undertaken with such fervor, and brought to a conclusion so fruitfully, as it is among us. This argument by itself can be like a demonstration to you that truly “this is the finger of God.”¹⁷²

[IV/297] [8] But so that you may recognize this more easily, first penetrate deeply into yourself and search your soul. If you examine everything properly, you will find it to be dead. You live among matter in motion as if the moving cause were absent or were nothing. For it is a religion [5] of bodies, not of souls, which you introduce. In the love of neighbor you provide for the actions necessary for preserving the individual and propagating the species, but have very little, or hardly any, concern for the actions by which we acquire knowledge and love of our author. But you believe that everyone is dead with you, you who deny the light of grace to everyone, because you yourself have not experienced [10] it. Ignorant of the certainty of faith surpassing all demonstrations, you think the only certainty is demonstrative. But is that very certainty of yours, which is confined within such narrow limits, demonstrative? Examine all your demonstrations, I beseech you, and bring me even one concerning the way thinking and being extended are united, by which the moving principle is united with the body which is moved.

[15] But why do I seek demonstrations about these matters from you? You cannot even explain how things probably happen. Without suppositions you cannot explain the sensations of pleasure or pain, or the motion of love or hate. The whole Philosophy of Descartes, however diligently you have examined and reformed it, cannot explain to me [20] even this one single phenomenon, namely, how the impact of matter on matter is perceived by the soul united to the matter.

But what other notion of matter itself do you give¹⁷³ us, I ask, beyond what you derive from a mathematical examination of quantity concerning shapes, not yet proven to consist of any kind of particles (except [25] hypothetically)? But what is more contrary to reason than to deny the divine words of him whose divine works lie open to the senses, because they are contrary to human demonstrations made by hypotheses? And [what is more contrary to reason], although you [new philosophers] do not even understand that state of the body by whose mediation the mind perceives corporeal objects, than to nevertheless make a judgment about [30] the state of that which, when glorified by the change from corruptible to incorruptible, is to be united again with the soul?

Of course, I am quite convinced that [what you call] discovering new principles for explaining the nature of God, of the soul, and of body, is just inventing fictitious principles. For reason at any rate teaches that it is contrary to divine providence that the true principles concerning those things should have been concealed from the holiest men for so many thousands of years, to be uncovered first in this century by men [IV/298] who have not even achieved perfection in the moral virtues. I would believe rather that those principles about God, the soul, and the body are true which have always been preserved from the beginning of created things to this day in one and the same society, the city of God. [5] That old man who convinced St. Justin¹⁷⁴ to pass over from a worldly Philosophy to the Christian Philosophy says of the first teachers of those principles that they were

the more ancient Philosophers, blessed, Just, precious to God, who spoke under the inspiration of the Divine Spirit, and who prophesied that those things would happen which are now happening.¹⁷⁵

I would believe rather that the Principles proposed by such Philosophers—transmitted [10] to us by successors like them, in an uninterrupted succession, and by philosophers of the same kind even today—principles easily accessible by one who seeks them by right reason—are the only true principles, where the holiness of the life demonstrates the truth of the doctrine.

Examine thoroughly the principles and doctrines of this Philosophy, not among its enemies, not among those of its followers whom either [15] wickedness has united with the dead, or ignorance with children, but among those of its teachers who are perfect in all wisdom, precious to God, and probably already participants in eternal life. Then you will recognize that the perfect Christian is the perfect philosopher, even if that person is only a little old woman, or a serving girl busy with menial chores, or someone scratching out a living by washing rags, a layman [20] in the eyes of the world. And at the same time you will exclaim with St. Justin: “this one Philosophy I find to be both sure and useful.”¹⁷⁶

[9] If you wish, I will gladly take upon myself the task of showing you how the points in which your teachings depart from ours are partly inconsistent, and partly uncertain, although I might wish that as soon [25] as you have recognized one or two errors in your doctrines, compared with the evident credibility in ours, you would make yourself a pupil of the teachers I have mentioned and that among the first fruits of your repentance you would offer God a refutation of your errors which you yourself have recognized by the illumination of the Divine light, so that if your first Writings have turned a thousand souls from the [30] true knowledge of God, your recantation of them, confirmed by your own example, will bring a thousand thousands back to him with you, like a second St. Augustine.¹⁷⁷ With all my heart I pray for this grace for you. Farewell.

[Florence 1675]

[IV/299] LETTER 68 (OP)

TO THE MOST NOBLE AND LEARNED MR. HENRY OLDENBURG FROM B. D. S.

Reply to Letter 62

Most Noble and Distinguished Sir,

Just as I received your letter of 22 July, I set out for Amsterdam, intending to commit to the press the book I wrote to you about. While I was dealing with this, a rumor was spread everywhere that a certain book of [10] mine about God was in the press, and that in it I tried to show that there is no God. Many people, indeed, accepted this rumor. As a result certain Theologians, perhaps the authors of the rumor, took the opportunity to complain about me to the Prince [of Orange] and the Magistrates. Moreover, the stupid Cartesians,¹⁷⁸ because they are believed to favor me, [15] try to remove that suspicion from themselves by constantly denouncing my opinions and writings everywhere. Even now they’re still at it.

Since I had learned these things from certain Men worthy of trust, who at the same time said that the Theologians were setting traps for me everywhere, I decided to put off the publication I was planning, [20] until I saw how the matter would turn out. And I resolved to let you know what plan I would then pursue. But every day the matter seems to get worse, and I don’t know what I should do.

In the meantime I did not want to delay any longer my reply to your letter. First, thank you very much for your most friendly warning. [25] Nevertheless, I’d like a fuller explanation of it, so that I may know what doctrines you believe might seem to undermine the practice of religious virtue. For I believe that the doctrines which seem to me to agree with reason are also most conducive to virtue. Next, if it’s not too much trouble, I’d like you to let me know the passages in the Theological-Political Treatise which have caused learned men to have misgivings. For [30] I want to make that Treatise clearer with certain notes,¹⁷⁹ and to remove the prejudices conceived about it, if possible. Farewell.

[The Hague, September/October 1675]¹⁸⁰

[IV/300] LETTER 69

TO THE MOST LEARNED MR. LAMBERT VAN VELTHUYSEN FROM B. D. S.

Most excellent and distinguished Sir,

I’m surprised that our friend Nieuwstad¹⁸¹ said that I’m considering a refutation of those writings which for some time have been published against my treatise, and that among other things, I’m planning to refute your manuscript.¹⁸² I know I never had in mind [10] rebutting any of my opponents,¹⁸³ so unworthy did I find all those to whom I would respond. And I don’t remember saying anything to Mr. Nieuwstad except that I planned to clarify some more obscure passages in that treatise with notes, and to attach your manuscript to them, together with my reply, if I could do so with your permission [15] (which I asked him to get from you). I added that if by any chance you were unwilling to give us permission because I said some things too harshly in my reply, you would have complete discretion to correct or delete them.

In the meantime, I’m not at all angry at Mr. Nieuwstad. Still, I did want to let you know how the matter stands, so that if I couldn’t [20] obtain the permission I seek, I would at least show that I didn’t want to publish your manuscript against your will. And though I believe it can be done without any danger to your reputation, provided that your name is not attached to it, nevertheless, I won’t do anything unless you give me leave to publish it.

But to confess the truth, you would do something much more [25] pleasing to me, if you were willing to write down those arguments by which you think you can combat my treatise, and add them to your manuscript. I beg you, most earnestly, to do this. For there is no one whose arguments I would be more pleased to weigh carefully. I know that you are possessed only by a zeal for the truth, [30] and I know the singular integrity of your heart. I beg you again not to hesitate to undertake this task, and to believe me to be,

Your most respectful,

B. de Spinoza

[IV/301] Mr. Lambert [van] Velthuysen

Dr. of Medicine

Living on the new canal

In Utrecht

[The Hague, Autumn 1675]

LETTER 70 (A)

TO THE MOST EXCELLENT AND ACUTE PHILOSOPHER B. D. S. FROM G. H. SCHULLER, M.D.

Most Learned and Excellent Sir, Most cherished Patron,

I hope that my last letter, together with the Experiment¹⁸⁴ of the Anonymous author, has been properly delivered to you, and at the same time that You are still well, as I am.

[15] For three months I had no letter from Our Tschirnhaus. From that I had formed the sad conjecture that some calamity had happened to him on his trip from England to France. But now I rejoice to say that I have received a letter from him, which, according to his request, I must share with you, Sir.

I am to convey to you, together with his most solicitous greetings, [20] that He has arrived safely in Paris, and that he has met Mr. Huygens there, as we had advised him to. So he has accommodated himself to Huygens’ mentality in every way, with the result that Huygens thinks very well of him. He mentioned that you, Sir, had recommended that he make Huygens’ acquaintance, and that you value his [25] person greatly. This pleased Huygens very much; he replied that he likewise values your person greatly, and that recently he received the Theological-Political Treatise from you, which many people there think very well of. They ask eagerly whether other Writings by the same [IV/302] Author have been published. To this Mr. Tschirnhaus has replied that he knew of none except the Demonstration of the First and Second Part of Descartes’ “Principles.” Otherwise, he reported nothing concerning you apart from the remarks already mentioned. He hopes that this will not be unwelcome to you.¹⁸⁵

[5] Recently Huygens called our Tschirnhaus to him, and told him that M. Colbert¹⁸⁶ wanted someone to instruct his son in Mathematics. If a position of this kind would please him, Huygens would arrange it. Tschirnhaus replied by seeking some delay, but in the end said he was available. Huygens replied, therefore, that that proposition pleased M. [10] Colbert very greatly, especially since, not knowing French, Tschirnhaus will have to speak to his son in Latin.

Regarding the objection [Tschirnhaus] recently made [in Letter 65, IV/279/14–29], he replies that the few words I wrote at your request [in Letter 66] have revealed your meaning to him more deeply, and that he had already entertained the same thoughts (since [your words [15] in the Ethics] chiefly admit of explanation in these two ways). But the two following considerations led him to pursue the train of thought contained in the objection recently made. [i] First, otherwise P5 and P7 of Book II seem to him to be inconsistent.

In [P5] it is maintained that the Objects [Ideata]¹⁸⁷ are the efficient cause of ideas,¹⁸⁸ which nevertheless seems to be refuted by the demonstration of [P7], [20] because it cites I A4—perhaps (as I rather think)¹⁸⁹ I am not making a proper application of this axiom, according to the Author’s intention. I would, of course, be very glad to learn from him what his meaning is, if his affairs allow.

[ii] The second reason which prevented me from following the explanation given was that in this way the Attribute of thought is held to extend [25] itself much more widely than the other attributes. But since each of the attributes constitutes the Essence of God, I certainly do not see how the one is not contrary to the other.

In any case, let me add this: if I may judge other Understandings from my own, P7 and P8 of Bk. II will be very difficult to understand, simply [30] because it has pleased the Author (to whom they no doubt seemed so evident) to provide them with such short demonstrations and not to explain them at greater length.

Tschirnhaus reports, moreover, that in Paris he has met a remarkably learned Man, named Leibniz, who is very capable in the various Sciences, and also free of the common prejudices of Theology. He has [IV/303] entered into a close friendship with him, the basis for which is that he, like Tschirnhaus, works continually on the perfection of the intellect, indeed that he values nothing more highly than this, or thinks nothing more useful. In Morals, Tschirnhaus says, he is most well-versed, and [5] he speaks without any influence of the affects, simply from the dictate of reason. In Physics, and especially in Metaphysical studies concerning God and the Soul, he continues, he is most expert.

In the end he concludes that Leibniz is most worthy of having your Writings communicated to him, Sir, if you first give your permission. He believes that great advantage will come to the Author from this, as he [10] promises to show fully, if it would please you, Sir. But if not, don’t worry that he will not conceal them, honorably, in accordance with the promise he made. So far he has not even made the least mention of them.¹⁹⁰

This same Leibniz thinks very well of the Theological-Political Treatise, on the subject of which, if you remember, he once wrote you a Letter.¹⁹¹ [15] I would ask you, therefore, Sir, unless there is some weighty reason against it, not to refuse to permit this, in keeping with your generous kindness. If it can be done, please tell me Your decision as soon as possible. When I have received Your reply, I will be able to reply to our Tschirnhaus, which I am anxious to do on Tuesday evening, unless some serious obstacle forces You to delay.

[20] Mr. Bresser, having returned from Cleves, has sent here a great quantity of the Beer of his Country. I suggested to him that he set aside half a Barrel for You, which he has promised to do. He sends you his most friendly greeting.

Finally, I ask you to overlook the roughness of my style and the speed of my pen, and to command me to carry out some service for [25] You, so that I may have a real opportunity to show that I am

Most Distinguished Sir,

Your very willing servant,

G. H. Schuller

Amsterdam, 14 November 1675

[IV/304] LETTER 71 (OP)

TO THE MOST DISTINGUISHED MR. B. D. S. FROM HENRY OLDENBURG

With Warmest Greetings

Reply to Letter 68

As far as I can see from your Last Letter, the Appearance of the Book you intended for publication is in danger.¹⁹² I can only approve your intention to clarify and soften¹⁹³ the things in the Theological-Political Treatise which caused trouble to your Readers. I would think [10] that these include especially those passages in the work which seem to speak ambiguously about God and Nature. A great many people think you confuse these two things. Furthermore, many think you deny the authority and value of miracles, the only possible support for the certainty of Divine Revelation, as almost all Christians are [15] convinced. In addition, they say you conceal your opinion concerning Jesus Christ, the Redeemer of the World and only Mediator for men, as well as your opinion concerning his Incarnation and Atonement. They ask that you reveal clearly your thinking about these three points. If you do this, and if in this matter you please intelligent Christians, who value reason, I think your affairs will be safe. I wanted you to [20] know these things briefly, I who am most devoted to you. Farewell.

15 November 1675

P.S.: Let me know quickly, please, whether these few lines of mine have reached you properly.

LETTER 72 (A)

TO THE VERY LEARNED AND ABLE MR. G. H. SCHULLER FROM B. D. S.

Most able Sir, Most honored friend,

I was very pleased to learn from your letter, which I received today, that you are well, and that our Tschirnhaus has successfully completed [IV/305] his trip to France. In the conversations he had concerning me with Mr. Huygens, he conducted himself very wisely, in my judgment at least. And I rejoice very much that he has found such a favorable opportunity for the end he had set himself.

[5] But I do not see what he finds in I A4 which seems to contradict II P5. For in this proposition it is affirmed that the essence of each idea¹⁹⁴ has God for a cause insofar as he is considered as a thinking thing; but in that axiom it is affirmed that the knowledge or idea of an effect depends on the knowledge or idea of its cause.

[10] To confess the truth, I do not sufficiently follow the meaning of your letter in this matter, and I believe that there is a slip of the pen, due to haste, either in your letter or in his copy [of the Ethics]. For you write that in P5 it is affirmed that objects [ideata] are the efficient cause of ideas, although this is expressly denied in the same proposition.¹⁹⁵ And it is from this, I now think, that all the confusion arises. So it would be [15] pointless for me now to try to write about this more fully. I ought to wait until you explain his mind to me more clearly and I know whether he has a copy which is adequately corrected.

I believe I know, from letters, the Leibniz about whom he writes. But why he has gone to France, when he was a counsellor in Frankfurt, [20] I don’t know.¹⁹⁶ As far as I have been able to conjecture from his letters, he seemed to me to be a man with a liberal mentality, and wellversed in every science. Nevertheless, I judge it ill-advised to entrust my writings to him so quickly. I’d like to know first what he is doing in France, and to hear the judgment of our Tschirnhaus after he has associated with him longer and knows his character better.

[25] For the rest, greet that friend of ours in my name, as solicitously as possible, and if there is any matter in which I can serve him, let him ask whatever he wishes, and he will find me most ready to help him. I wish our most worthy friend Mr. Bresser well on his arrival, or return, and thank him very much for the promised beer. I shall repay him in whatever way I can.

[30] Finally, I have not yet tried to test the experiment of your Author,¹⁹⁷ and I don’t believe I’ll be able to apply my mind to trying it. The more I think about the matter, the more I’m convinced that you have not made gold, but only separated out a little which was hidden in the antinomy. But more of this on another occasion. Now the lack of time [IV/306] prevents me. Meanwhile, if I can do anything for you, I am here, and you will always find me,

Most excellent sir,

Your very good friend
and Most Obedient Servant,

B. despinoza

The Hague, 18 November 1675

Mr. G. H. Schuller

Doctor of medicine, Amsterdam

LETTER 73 (OP)

TO THE MOST NOBEL AND LEARNED MR. HENRY OLDENBURG FROM B. D. S.

Reply to Letter 71¹⁹⁸

Most Noble Sir,

Last Saturday I received your very short letter of 15 November. In it you only point out the things in the Theological-Political Treatise which have troubled readers, although I had also hoped to learn from [IV/307a] it what opinions seemed to undermine the practice of religious virtue, which you had previously warned me about. But to explain my intention regarding the three points you mention, I say that:

[5] [1] Regarding the first, I favor an opinion concerning God and Nature far different from the one Modern Christians usually defend. For I maintain that God is, as they say, the immanent, but not the transitive, cause of all things. That all things are in God and move in God, I affirm, I say, with Paul,¹⁹⁹ and perhaps also with all the ancient philosophers, though in another way—I would also be so bold as to say, with all the ancient [10] Hebrews, as far as we can conjecture from certain traditions, corrupted as they have been in many ways. Nevertheless, some people think the Theological-Political Treatise rests on the assumption that God is one and the same as Nature (by which they understand a certain mass, or corporeal matter).²⁰⁰ This is a complete mistake.

[15] [2] Regarding miracles, I’m convinced that the certainty of divine revelation can be built only on the wisdom of the doctrine, not on miracles, that is, on ignorance. I’ve shown this in sufficient detail in Ch. 6, on miracles. Here I add only this, that I understand this to be [IV/308a] the chief difference between Religion and Superstition, that the latter has ignorance as its foundation, and the former, wisdom. And I believe this is the reason why Christians are distinguished from non-Christians, not by faith, not by loving-kindness, not by the other fruits of the Holy [5] Spirit, but only by opinion. Like everyone else, they defend themselves only by miracles, that is, by ignorance, which is the source of all wickedness. And thus they turn faith, even though true, into superstition. But whether kings will ever permit using a remedy for this evil, I doubt very much. Finally,

[3] to reveal my thinking more clearly regarding the third point, too, [10] I say that it is completely unnecessary²⁰¹ for salvation to know Christ according to the flesh. We must think quite differently about that eternal son of God, i.e., God’s eternal wisdom, which has manifested itself in all things, but most in the human mind, and most of all in Christ Jesus. No one can attain blessedness without this, as that which alone teaches what [15] is true and false, good and evil. And because, as I said, this wisdom was manifested most through Jesus Christ, his disciples preached the same [IV/309a] thing, insofar as he revealed it to them, and they showed that they could pride themselves beyond other people in that spirit of Christ.

As for what certain Churches add to this—that God assumed a human nature—I warned expressly that I don’t know what they mean. Indeed, [5] to confess the truth, they seem to me to speak no less absurdly than if someone were to say to me that a circle has assumed the nature of a square.²⁰²

I think these words will be enough to explain what I think about those three points. Whether it will please the Christians of your acquaintance, you will be able to know better than I. Farewell.

[The Hague, c. 1 December 1675]²⁰³

LETTER 74 (OP)

TO THE MOST DISTINGUISHED AND LEARNED MR. B. D. S. HENRY OLDENBURG

Sends Many Greetings

Reply to the Preceding

Since you seem to reproach me for excessive brevity, I shall purge myself of that fault this time by excessive prolixity. I see that you had [25] expected an account of those opinions in your Writings which seem to your Readers to destroy the practice of Religious virtue. I shall say [IV/310] what most distresses them. You seem to build on a fatal necessity of all things and actions. But once that has been asserted and granted, they say the sinews of all laws, of all virtue and religion, are cut, and all [5] rewards and punishments are useless. They think that whatever compels or implies necessity excuses. Therefore, they think no one will be inexcusable in the sight of God. If we act by the fates, and everything, brought round again²⁰⁴ by an unyielding hand, proceeds in a certain and inevitable path, they do not understand what room there is for [10] guilt or punishments. It’s quite hard to say what means there are to untie this knot. I should very much like to know and learn what help you can offer in this matter.

Regarding your opinion about the three points I raised, which you think fit to reveal to me, the following things need to be asked.

First, in what sense do you take Miracles and Ignorance to be Synonyms [15] and equivalent, as you seem to do in your Most Recent letter? For the raising of Lazarus from the dead, and the resurrection of Jesus Christ from death, seem to surpass the whole power of created Nature, and to belong only to the divine power. That this necessarily exceeds the limits of a finite intelligence, bound within certain constraints, does not [20] argue a culpable ignorance. Don’t you think it suits a created Mind and knowledge to recognize in an uncreated Mind and supreme Divinity such knowledge and power that it can penetrate into and do those things whose reason and means we puny humans can neither give nor explain? We are men, and it seems that nothing human should be considered alien to us.

[25] Next, since you confess that you cannot grasp [the doctrine] that God really assumed a human nature, it is proper to ask you how you understand those passages of our Gospel and of the Letter to the Hebrews, the first of which affirms that “the word became flesh,” and the second of which says that “the Son of God assumed not [the nature of] the Angels, but [30] [that of] the seed of Abraham.”²⁰⁵ I should think that the whole tenor of the Gospel is this: that the only begotten Son of God, the λόγον [the Word], who both was God and was with God, showed himself in human nature and by his passion and death paid the ἀντίλυτρον [the ransom] for us sinners, the price of our redemption. I would be very glad to learn what should be said about these and similar passages, for the truth of the Gospel and of the Christian Religion (which I think you are well-disposed [35] toward) to be established.

[IV/311] I had intended to write more, but I’ve been interrupted by visiting friends, to whom I think it wrong to deny the duties of politeness. But the things I’ve thrown together in this Letter may have been enough, and may perhaps have been wearisome to you as a Philosopher. Farewell, then, and believe that I am always an admirer of your Erudition [5] and Knowledge.

London, 16 December 1675

[IV/311a] LETTER 75 (OP)

TO THE MOST NOBLE AND LEARNED MR. HENRY OLDENBURG FROM B. D. S.

Reply to the Preceding

Most Noble Sir,

At last I see what it was you were asking me not to publish. But [15] because this is the principal foundation of everything in the treatise I had intended to publish, I want to explain briefly here in what way I maintain the fatal necessity of all things and actions. For I do not in any way subject God to fate, but I conceive that everything follows with inevitable necessity from the nature of God, in the same way everyone [IV/312a] conceives that it follows from the nature of God that God understands himself. Certainly no one denies that this follows necessarily from the divine nature, and yet no one conceives that God is coerced by some fate. Rather they think he understands himself completely freely, even if necessarily.

[5] Next, this inevitable necessity of things does not destroy either divine or human laws. For whether or not the moral teachings themselves receive the form of law or legislation from God himself, they are still divine and salutary. The good which follows from virtue and the love of God will be just as desirable whether we receive it from God as [10] a judge or as something emanating from the necessity of the divine nature. Nor will the bad things which follow from evil actions and affects be any less to be feared because they follow from them necessarily. Finally, whether we do what we do necessarily or contingently, we are still led by hope and fear.

[15] Next, the only reason men are inexcusable before God is that they are in his 'power as clay is in the 'power of the potter, who, of the same mass, makes some vessels for honor, and others for dishonor.²⁰⁶ If you’re willing to attend briefly to these few things, I don’t doubt that you will [IV/313a] easily be able to reply to all the arguments usually raised against this opinion, as I and many others have already learned from experience.

I’ve taken miracles and ignorance to be equivalent, because those who try to erect the existence of God and Religion on miracles want [5] to reveal something obscure by something more obscure, which they’re completely ignorant of. So they use a new kind of argument, by reduction, not to the impossible, as they say, but to ignorance. Otherwise, if I’m not mistaken, I’ve explained my position on miracles sufficiently in the Theological-Political Treatise. Here I add only this one thing:

[10] If you attend to the following things—that Christ did not appear to the Senate, or to Pilate, or to any of the unfaithful, but only to the saints; that God has neither a right hand nor a left, and is not in any place, but is everywhere according to his essence; that matter is everywhere the same; that God does not manifest himself outside the World, in that [15] imaginary space they hypothesize; and finally, that the structure of the human body is kept within its proper limits only by the weight of the air—you will easily see that this appearance of Christ was not unlike that by which God appeared to Abraham, when he saw three men whom he [IV/314a] invited to eat with him [Genesis 18:1–8].

But you will say that all the Apostles believed completely that Christ was resurrected from the dead, and really ascended into heaven. I don’t deny this. For Abraham himself also believed that God had dined with [5] him, and all the Israelites believed that God descended from heaven to Mount Sinai, surrounded by fire, and spoke immediately with them [Exodus 19:18–24]. Nevertheless, these and many other things of this kind were apparitions, or revelations, accommodated to the grasp and opinions of those men, by which God willed to reveal his mind to them.

I conclude, then, that the resurrection of Christ from the dead was really [10] spiritual, and was revealed only to the faithful, according to their power of understanding, that is, that Christ was endowed with eternity, and that he rose from the dead (here I understand “dead” in the same sense in which Christ said, “let the dead bury their dead”),²⁰⁷ and at the same time that he gave, by his life and death, an example of singular holiness, [15] and to that extent he raises his disciples from the dead, insofar as they follow this example of his life and death. It would not be difficult to explain the whole teaching of the Gospel according to this hypothesis. [IV/315a] Indeed only on this hypothesis can 1 Corinthians 15 be explained and the arguments of Paul be understood.²⁰⁸ Otherwise, by following the common hypothesis, they seem weak, and can easily be refuted—not to mention the fact that the Christians have interpreted Spiritually all the things the Jews interpreted carnally.

[5] With you, I recognize human weakness. But may I ask you, on the other hand, whether we puny humans²⁰⁹ have such a great knowledge of Nature that we can determine how far its force and power extend, and what surpasses its force? Because no one can presume without arrogance [to have this knowledge], it will therefore be permissible, without boasting, [10] to explain miracles through natural causes, as far as this can be done. And it will be preferable to suspend judgment about the things we cannot explain, and also cannot demonstrate to be absurd, and to erect Religion, as I have said, only on the wisdom of the Teaching.

Finally, you believe that the passages in the Gospel of John and the Letter to the Hebrews are incompatible with what I have said [15] because you measure the phrases of oriental Languages by European ways of speaking. And although John wrote his Gospel in Greek, he still hebraizes.

However that may be, do you believe that when Scripture says that God manifested himself in a Cloud, or that he dwelt in the Tabernacle, [IV/316a] and in the Temple, God himself took on the nature of a Cloud, or a Tabernacle, or a temple? But this is the most Christ said of himself: that he was the temple of God, because, as I said in my letter, God [5] manifested himself most in Christ. To express this more powerfully, John said that the word became flesh. But enough of these things.

[The Hague, c. 1 January 1676]

LETTER 76 (OP)

TO THE MOST NOBLE YOUNG MAN ALBERT BURGH FROM B. D. S.

Reply to Letter 67

What I could hardly believe when others told me about it, I have at last understood from your letter: that you have become, not only a [20] member of the Roman Church, as you say, but also a very vehement defender of it, and that you have learned already to revile your opponents and petulantly rage against them.

[IV/317a] I had not intended to reply to your letter. I was certain that you needed the passage of time more than you needed argument, to restore you to yourself and yours, not to mention other reasons, which you once approved when we talked about Steno, whose footsteps you now follow. But certain friends,²¹⁰ who from your excellent natural qualities [5] had conceived a great hope, as I had, asked me most urgently not to fail in the duty of a friend, and to think rather of what you recently were than of what you are now. By these, and other arguments of that kind, I have finally been persuaded to write you these few lines, asking you earnestly to be so kind as to read [and weigh]²¹¹ them fairly.

[10] I shall not, as the opponents of the Roman Church usually do, relate the vices of the Priests and Popes, to turn you against them. People often bring up these stories maliciously, more to irritate than to instruct. Indeed, I’ll concede that in the Roman Church there are more men of great erudition, who have led commendable lives, than in any other [15] Christian Church. For as there are more members of this Church, so there are also more men of every condition in it. Nevertheless, unless by chance you have also lost your memory, along with your reason, you can’t deny this: that in every Church there are many very honorable [IV/318a] men, who worship God with justice and loving-kindness. For we know many men of this kind among the Lutherans, the Reformed, the Mennonites, and the Enthusiasts.²¹² And, not to mention others, you know your own ancestors, who in the time of the Duke of Alva, with [5] equal constancy and freedom of mind, suffered all kinds of torture for the sake of Religion.²¹³

So you ought to concede that holiness of life is not peculiar to the Roman Church, but is common to all. And because we know by this—to speak with the Apostle John²¹⁴—that we remain in God, and God remains in us, it follows that whatever distinguishes the Roman [10] Church from the others is completely superfluous, and so has been established only by superstition. For as I’ve said, with John, justice and loving-kindness are the unique and most certain sign of the true Universal faith.²¹⁵ They are the true fruits of the Holy Spirit. Wherever they are present, Christ is really present; wherever they are absent, [15] Christ is absent. For only by the Spirit of Christ can we be led to the love of justice and loving-kindness. If you had been willing to weigh these things rightly, you would not have lost yourself, and you would not have driven your parents, who are now lamenting your misfortune, into bitter grief.

[IV/319a] But I return to your Letter, in which first you lament that I allow myself to be led astray by the Prince of wicked Spirits. I beg you to be of good heart, and return to yourself.²¹⁶ When you were in possession of your faculties, if I’m not mistaken, you worshipped an infinite [5] God, by whose power absolutely all things happen and are preserved. Now you are dreaming of a Prince, an enemy of God, who, in spite of God’s will to the contrary, leads most men astray and deceives them. (For good men, in fact, are rare.) And [you imagine] that because this master of wicked acts has deceived these men, God hands them over to him, to be tortured to eternity. The divine justice therefore allows [10] the Devil to deceive men with impunity. But not the wretched men the Devil has deceived and led astray. They are by no means without punishment.

Would these absurdities still have to be tolerated if you worshipped an infinite and eternal God, instead of the one whom Chatillon, with impunity, fed to his horses in the city of Tienen?²¹⁷ And you weep that I am wretched? You call my Philosophy, which you have never seen, a [15] fable? O, young man bereft of understanding, who has bewitched you, so that you believe you are eating that highest and eternal being, and have him in your intestines?

Yet you seem to want to use reason, and you ask me: “how do I know that my Philosophy is the best, among all those which have ever [IV/320a] been taught in the world, are still taught, or will ever be taught in the future?” I can certainly ask you this with far better right. I do not presume that I have discovered the best Philosophy; but I know that I understand the true one. Moreover, if you ask how I know this, I will [5] reply: in the same way you know that the three Angles of a Triangle are equal to two right angles. No one will deny that this is enough, not if his brain is healthy and he is not dreaming of unclean spirits, who inspire in us false ideas which are like the true. For the true is the indicator both of itself and of the false.

[10] But you, who presume you have at last discovered the best Religion, or rather the best men, to whom you have abandoned your credulity, how do you know that they are the best among all those who have ever taught other Religions, still teach them, or will teach them in the future? have you examined all those religions, both ancient and modern, which are taught here, [15] and in India, and everywhere throughout the globe? And even if you had examined them properly, how do you know you have chosen the best? You cannot give any reason for your faith.

Now you will say that you are trusting in the internal testimony of the Spirit of God, and that the others are led astray and deceived by the Prince of wicked Spirits. But all those who are outside the Roman [IV/321a] Church will make the same claim about their church as you do about yours, with equal right.

Moreover, what you add about the common agreement of many thousands of men, and about the uninterrupted succession of the Church, [5] etc., is the same old song of the Pharisees. For with no less confidence than the adherents of the Roman Church, and with as much stubbornness as the Roman witnesses, they display many thousands of witnesses who report the things they have heard as things they have experienced. They trace their lineage all the way to Adam, and boast with equal arrogance that their Church has spread to this day, and [10] remains unchanged and genuine, in spite of the hostility of the Pagans and the hatred of the Christians.

They defend themselves most of all by their antiquity. They claim, unanimously, that their traditions were received from God himself, and that they alone preserve both the written and the unwritten Word of God. No one can deny that all the heresies have arisen from them, but that they have remained constant for some thousands of years, without [15] any state compulsion, solely by the effectiveness of [NS: their] superstition. The miracles they tell of [NS:—setting aside the thing itself—] are enough to weary a thousand babblers.

But what they are most proud of is that they count far more martyrs [IV/322a] than any other nation, and that the number of those who have suffered, with a singular constancy of heart, for the faith they profess increases daily. This is not a lie. For I myself know, among others, a certain Judah, whom they call the faithful,²¹⁸ who in the midst of the flames, when he was already believed to be dead, began to sing the hymn which begins [5] “To Thee, Lord, I offer my soul.” And in the middle of the song he breathed his last.

I grant that the organization of the Roman Church, which you praise so highly, is well-designed politically, and profitable for many. I do not believe there is any order more suitable for deceiving ordinary [10] people and controlling men’s minds, unless it would be the order of the Mahommedan Church, which surpasses it by far. For from the time this superstition began, no schism has arisen in their Church.²¹⁹

So if you make the calculation correctly, you will see that only the point you mention in the third place [at IV/287/6] is in favor of the [15] Christians: namely, that unlearned and base men were able to convert almost the whole world to the faith of Christ. But this argument supports not the Roman Church, but everyone who professes the name of Christ.²²⁰

But suppose all the reasons you cite favor only the Roman Church. [IV/323a] Do you think that by them you can mathematically demonstrate the authority of that Church? That’s far from true. So why do you want me to believe that my demonstrations come from the Prince of wicked Spirits, whereas yours are inspired by God—especially since I see, and [5] your letter clearly indicates, that having become a slave of this Church, you’ve been guided not so much by the love of God as by fear of hell, the only cause of superstition. [NS, LC: For I ask you,] is this your humility, that you don’t trust at all in yourself, but in others, whom many, many people condemn? Do you ascribe it to arrogance and pride, that I use reason, and that I trust in this true Word of God, which is [10] in the mind, and can never be distorted or corrupted?

Away with this pernicious²²¹ superstition! Recognize the reason God has given you, and cultivate it, unless you want to be considered one of the brute animals. Stop calling absurd errors mysteries, and don’t shamefully confuse the things unknown to us, or not yet discovered, [15] with those demonstrated to be absurd, as are the horrible secrets of this Church. The more [these secrets/mysteries] are contrary to right reason, the more you believe they transcend the intellect.

For the rest, the foundation of the Theological-Political Treatise, namely, [IV/324a] that Scripture must be explained only through Scripture, which you so vehemently declare to be without any reason, and false, is not merely supposed, but also demonstrated conclusively to be true or firm, especially in Ch. 7, where the opinions of the opponents are also refuted. [5] To this we may add what is demonstrated at the end of Ch. 15.

If you’re willing to attend to these [NS, LC: few] things, and in addition, to examine the Histories of the Church (of which I see that you are most ignorant), so that you can see how falsely the Popes transmit many things, and by what fate and what tricks the Roman Pontiff acquired the leadership of the Church, 600 years after the birth of [10] Christ,²²² I don’t doubt that you will at length repent. I heartily desire this for you. Farewell, etc.

[The Hague, end of 1675 or beginning of 1676]

[IV/324] LETTER 77 (OP)

TO THE MOST DISTINGUISHED MR. B. D. S. FROM HENRY OLDENBURG

EY ΠPATTEIN²²³

Reply to Letter 75

You were exactly right when you perceived the reason I did not want that fatal necessity of all things to be published: so that the practice of [30] virtue would not thereby be hampered, and rewards and punishments would not become worthless.

[IV/325] What your most recent letter suggests about this matter does not yet seem to lessen this difficulty or to calm the human Mind. For if we men, in all our actions, moral as well as natural, are in the 'power [5] of God as the clay is in the hand of the potter, how, I ask, can any of us properly be called to account for having acted in this or that way, when it was completely impossible for him to act otherwise? Will not everyone, without exception, be able to retort to God:

your inflexible decree and irresistible 'power have forced us to act in this way; we could not have acted otherwise. Why, then, and with what [10] right will you subject us to the direst punishments, which we could not in any way have avoided, since you were doing and directing everything by supreme necessity, according to your will and good pleasure?

When you say that Men are inexcusable before God for no other reason than because they are in God’s 'power, I would turn that argument [15] completely around. I would say (with better reason, as it seems): men are for that reason completely excusable, because they are in God’s 'power. For everyone can easily object: “your 'power is inescapable, O God; therefore, it seems that I deserve to be excused for not having acted otherwise.”

Next, you still take Miracles to be equivalent to Ignorance. By that [20] you seem to confine the power of God and the knowledge of Men (even the most acute Men)²²⁴ within the same limits, as if God cannot do or produce anything for which men cannot give a reason if they exert all the powers of their intelligence.

Furthermore, that Narrative of Christ’s Passion, Death, Burial and [25] Resurrection seems to have been painted with such lively and genuine colors that I would dare even to appeal to your conscience: provided that you are persuaded of the truth of the Narrative, do you believe that it is to be taken Allegorically rather than literally? The details the Evangelists have recorded so clearly about this matter seem to weigh [30] heavily in favor of taking the narrative literally.

These, briefly, are the things I wanted to note regarding that subject. I beseech you to pardon them, and in accordance with your sincerity, to reply in a friendly fashion. Mr. Boyle greets you courteously. At another time I shall explain what the Royal Society is doing now. Farewell, and continue to love me.

Henry Oldenburg

London, 14 January 1676

[IV/326] LETTER 78 (OP)

TO THE MOST NOBLE AND LEARNED MR. HENRY OLDENBURG FROM B. D. S.

Reply to the Preceding

Most Noble Sir,

What I said in my previous letter—that we are for that reason inexcusable, because we are in God’s 'power, as clay in the hand of the potter—I wanted to be understood in this sense: namely, that no [10] one can reproach God because he has given him a weak nature, or a mind lacking in power. That would be as absurd as if a circle were to complain that God did not give it the properties of a sphere, or a child who is suffering from a stone, that he did not give it a healthy body. Similarly, a weak-minded man can’t complain²²⁵ that God has denied him [15] strength of character, and a true knowledge and love of God himself, so that he cannot restrain or moderate his desires. For nothing else belongs to the nature of any thing than what follows necessarily from its given cause. But it does not belong to the nature of any man that [IV/327a] he should be strong-minded. And no one can deny that it is no more in our 'power to have a healthy Body than it is to have a sound Mind,²²⁶ unless he wants to deny both experience and reason.

But, you insist, if men sin from a necessity of nature, then they are [5] excusable. But you don’t explain what you want to infer from that. Is it that God cannot become angry with them? Or that they are worthy of blessedness, i.e., of the knowledge and love of God? If the former, then I grant completely that God does not become angry, but that all things happen according to his decree. But I deny that for that reason all men [10] ought to be blessed. Indeed, men can be excusable, and nevertheless lack blessedness and suffer in many ways. A horse is excusable for being a horse and not a man, but he must still be a horse and not a man. Someone who is crazy because of a dog’s bite is indeed to be excused; nevertheless, he is rightly suffocated.²²⁷ And finally, one who cannot govern [15] his desires and restrain them by fear of the laws, although he too is to be excused because of his weakness, nevertheless, cannot enjoy peace of mind, and the knowledge and love of God. He necessarily perishes.

I don’t think it’s necessary to warn here that when Scripture says that [IV/328a] God becomes angry with sinners, and that he is a judge, who finds out about men’s actions, makes decisions about them, and passes sentence, it is speaking in a human way, and according to the accepted opinions of the common people, because its intent is not to teach Philosophy, and not to make men learned, but to make them obedient.

[5] Moreover, I don’t see why I seem to confine the power of God and human 'knowledge within the same limits, just because I have taken miracles and ignorance to be equivalent.

However that may be, I accept Christ’s passion, death, and burial literally, as you do, but his resurrection, allegorically. I grant, certainly, [10] that the Evangelists relate the resurrection too in such detail that we can’t deny that they themselves believed that the body of Christ was resurrected and ascended into heaven, where he sits on the right hand of God. We also can’t deny that they believed this could have been seen by non-believers, if they had been present at the same time in the places where Christ himself appeared to the disciples. Nevertheless, [15] they could have been deceived about this, without harm to the teaching of the Gospel, as also happened to other prophets. I’ve given examples of this in my preceding letter [Letter 75, IV/314/1–9]. But Paul, to whom Christ also appeared afterward, gloried that he knew [IV/329a] Christ not according to the flesh, but according to the spirit.²²⁸

[IV/329b] [LC: I thank you very much for the Catalog of the Books of the most noble Mr. Boyle. Finally, I shall look forward to learning from [5] you the present business of the Royal Society, when the opportunity presents itself.]

Farewell, most esteemed Sir, and believe that I am yours in all zeal and affection.

[The Hague, 7 February 1676]²²⁹

[IV/329] LETTER 79 (C)

TO THE MOST DISTINGUISHED GENTLEMAN MR. BENEDICT DE SPINOZA FROM HENRY OLDENBURG

Warmest Greetings

In your letter to me of 7 February there remain some things which seem to merit critical examination. You say that a man cannot complain [15] that God has denied him true knowledge of himself [God], and sufficient powers for avoiding sins, since nothing belongs to the Nature of anything except what follows necessarily from its cause. But I say that since God, the creator of men, formed them according to his own image, which seems to imply wisdom, and goodness, and power in its [20] concept, it seems to follow completely that it is more in man’s 'power to have a sound Mind than to have a healthy body, since the physical soundness of the Body depends on mechanical principles, whereas the soundness of the Mind depends on choice and prudence.

You add that men can be excusable,²³⁰ and yet suffer in many ways. At [25] first glance this seems hard and what you go on to offer as a proof—that a dog gone mad from a bite²³¹ is indeed to be excused, but nevertheless rightly killed—does not seem to settle the matter, since killing a dog of this kind would show cruelty if it were not necessary to preserve other dogs, or other animals, or men themselves from a bite of this [IV/330] kind which would make them mad.

But if God were to implant a sound Mind in men, as he can, no contagion of vices would need to be feared. And of course it seems very cruel for God to destine men to eternal torments (or at least for a time to dire torments) on account of sins which they could not avoid in any [5] way. Furthermore, the tenor of the whole of Sacred Scripture seems to suppose and imply this: that men can abstain from sins. Indeed, it abounds in curses and promises, proclamations of rewards and threats of punishments, which all seem to argue against a necessity of sinning, [10] and imply the possibility of avoiding punishments.²³² If this should be denied, the human mind would have to be said to act no less mechanically than the human body.

Next, the foundation for your continuing to take Miracles and Ignorance as equivalent seems to be this: that the creature can and must [15] have a clear insight into the Infinite power and wisdom of the creator. So far I am completely convinced that this is certainly false.

Finally, you do not support your claim that Christ’s passion, death and burial are to be taken literally, but his Resurrection allegorically, [20] with any argument that is clear to me. In the Gospels the Resurrection of Christ seems to be related as literally as the other things. And the whole Christian Religion and its truth rests on this article of the Resurrection. Take this away, and the mission of Christ Jesus and his heavenly Teaching both collapse. It cannot escape you how [25] much trouble Christ took, once he had been raised from the dead, to convince his disciples of the truth of the Resurrection, properly so called. To try to turn all those things into allegories is the same as if someone did his best to undermine the whole truth of the Gospel Narrative.

I wanted to convey these few remarks to you again, in accordance [30] with my freedom of Philosophizing, which I earnestly beseech you to take in good part.

London, 11 February 1676

I’ll write to you very soon²³³ about the studies and activities of the Royal Society, if God grants me life and health.

[IV/331] LETTER 80 (OP)

TO THE MOST ACUTE AND LEARNED PHILOSOPHER, B. D. S. FROM EHRENFRIED WALTHER VON TSCHIRNHAUS

Most Distinguished Sir,

First, I have great difficulty conceiving how the existence of bodies, which have motions and shapes, is demonstrated a priori. For in Extension, considering the thing absolutely, no such thing occurs.

Secondly, I should like to learn from you how to understand what [10] you said in your Letter on the Infinite: “Still they do not infer from the multiplicity of their parts that such things exceed every number.”²³⁴ For in fact all Mathematicians seem to me to demonstrate, always, concerning such infinites, that the number of the parts is so great that it exceeds every [15] assignable number. And in the example of the two circles which you use there, you do not seem to show what you had undertaken to show. For there you show only that they do not infer this from the excessive size of the intervening space, and that they do not infer it from the fact “that we do not know its maximum and minimum.” But you do not demonstrate as you wanted to, that they do not infer it from the multiplicity of the parts.

[20] [NS: I have learned from Mr. Leibniz that the Tutor of the Dauphin of France, Huet, who is a man of outstanding learning, will write concerning the truth of human Religion, and will refute your Theological-Political Treatise.²³⁵

Farewell.]

2 May 1676

[IV/332] LETTER 81 (OP)

TO THE MOST NOBLE AND LEARNED EHRENFRIED WALTHER VON TSCHIRNHAUS FROM B. D. S.

Reply to the Preceding

Most Noble Sir,

What I said in my Letter concerning the Infinite,²³⁶ that [Mathematicians] do not infer the infinity of the parts from their multiplicity [IV/59/10–11], is evident from the fact that if they inferred it from their [10] multiplicity, we could not conceive a greater multiplicity of parts, but their multiplicity would have to be greater than any given multiplicity, which is false. For in the whole space between two circles having different centers we conceive twice as great a multiplicity of parts as in half of the same space. Nevertheless, the number of parts, both in the [15] half and in the whole space, is greater than every assignable number.

Next, from Extension, as Descartes conceives it (i.e., as a mass at rest), it is not only difficult to demonstrate the existence of bodies, as you say, but completely impossible. For matter at rest, insofar as it is in itself, will persevere in its rest, and will not be set in motion except [20] by a more powerful external cause. For this reason I did not hesitate, previously, to affirm that Descartes’ principles of natural things are useless, not to say absurd.

The Hague, 5 May 1676

[IV/333] LETTER 82 (OP)

TO THE MOST ACUTE AND LEARNED PHILOSOPHER, B. D. S. FROM EHRENFRIED WALTHER VON TSCHIRNHAUS

Most Learned Sir,

Since you remind me of Descartes’ opinion—that he can’t deduce the variety of things from Extension except by supposing that it was brought about in Extension by a motion initiated by God²³⁷—I’d be glad if you would oblige me by indicating how, according to your meditations, [10] the variety of things can be shown a priori from the concept of Extension. In my opinion, Descartes doesn’t deduce the existence of bodies from a matter at rest (unless, perhaps, you would consider the supposition of God as a mover to be of no importance). For you have not shown how [the variety/existence of bodies] must necessarily follow [15] a priori from God’s essence, something which Descartes believed surpassed man’s grasp.

So I ask this of you, knowing very well that you think otherwise [about this]—unless perhaps there’s some other weighty reason why you have so far not wanted to make this plain. And if this [concealment] had not been necessary, which I don’t doubt, you would not indicate such a [20] thing obscurely. But be assured that whether you indicate something to me openly or conceal it, my feeling toward you will remain unchanged.

Nevertheless, the reasons why I would particularly desire an explanation are these: I have always observed in Mathematics that from any thing you like, considered in itself, i.e., from the definition of each [25] thing, we can deduce, anyhow, just one property, no more;²³⁸ if we want more properties, it’s necessary for us to relate the thing defined to other things. Then, indeed, from the conjunction of the definitions of these things, new properties result.

For example, if I consider only the circumference of a circle, I will not be able to infer anything except that it exists everywhere like itself, [IV/334] or is uniform. By this property, indeed, it differs essentially from all other curves. And I will never be able to deduce any other properties. But if I relate it to other things, such as the radii drawn from the center, or two lines intersecting [within the circle], or to many [NS: other lines], I shall certainly be able to deduce more properties from this.

[5] In some way this seems to be contrary to P16 of the Ethics, nearly the most important proposition in Book I of your Treatise. In this proposition, it is assumed as known that from the given definition of each thing many properties can be deduced. This seems to me impossible, if we do not relate the thing defined to other things. And it has the [10] further result that I cannot see how, from any Attribute considered by itself, e.g., from Extension, an infinite variety of bodies can arise.²³⁹ Or if you think that this can’t be inferred from one [Attribute] considered by itself, but can be inferred from all [the Attributes] taken together, I’d like you to explain how this will have to be conceived. Farewell, etc.

Paris, 23 June 1676

[IV/334] LETTER 83 (OP)

TO THE MOST NOBLE AND LEARNED MR. EHRENFRIED WALTHER VON TSCHIRNHAUS FROM B. D. S.

Reply to the Preceding

Most Noble Sir,

You ask whether a variety of things can be demonstrated a priori from the concept of Extension alone. I believe I have already shown clearly enough that this is impossible, and that therefore Descartes defines [25] matter badly by Extension, but that it must necessarily be explained by an attribute which expresses eternal and infinite essence. But perhaps I will pursue these matters more clearly with you some other time, if life lasts.²⁴⁰ For up till now I have not been able to set out anything concerning them in an orderly way.

[IV/335] But as for what you add—that from the definition of each thing, considered in itself, we can deduce only one property—perhaps this is correct for very simple things, or beings of reason (under which I include shapes also), but not for real beings. For from the mere fact [5] that I define God to be a Being to whose essence existence pertains,²⁴¹ I infer many of his properties: that he exists necessarily, that he is unique, immutable, infinite, etc. In this way, I might mention many other examples, but for now I will omit them.

Finally, would you inquire whether M. Huet’s Treatise has been published yet—I mean the one you wrote me about previously, directed [10] against the Theological-Political Treatise. [If so,] will you be able to send me a copy? Again, do you already know what has recently been discovered concerning Refraction?²⁴²

With this, most Noble Sir, farewell, and continue to love, etc.

[NS: Your B. d. S.]

The Hague, 15 July 1676

[IV/335] LETTER 84 (NS)

LETTER FROM THE AUTHOR TO ONE OF HIS FRIENDS WHICH IS SUITABLE TO SERVE AS A PREFACE TO THIS POLITICAL TREATISE²⁴³

Dear Friend,

Yesterday I received your welcome letter. I thank you heartily for [20] the kind concern you show for me. I would not let this opportunity go by, etc., if I did not have something in hand which I judge to be rather useful, and which, I believe, will be more pleasing to you: composing the Political Treatise I began some time ago, on your recommendation.

Six Chapters of this treatise are already complete. The first contains, [25] as it were, an Introduction to the Work itself; the second treats of natural Right; the third, of the Right of the Supreme 'Powers; the fourth, what matters of State depend only on the governance of the Supreme 'Powers; [IV/336] fifth, what is the ultimate thing a State can aim at;²⁴⁴ and sixth, how a Monarchic Government must be set up, so as not to fall into Tyranny.

Now I am busy with the seventh chapter, where I demonstrate Methodically all the main points of the preceding sixth chapter, concerning the organization of a well-ordered Monarchy. Afterward I’ll proceed to [5] Aristocratic and Popular Governments, and finally to the Laws and other particular Questions concerning Politics. With this, farewell, etc.

[mid-1676?]²⁴⁵

1. Mersenne 1624. The deists Mersenne attacks in this treatise hold that there is a God and an afterlife, but add that if God is good, he will not want his creatures to suffer eternal torment, and that if he is just, he will not punish them for sins he foreknew they would commit. Since the Christian scriptures appear to be committed to eternal punishment for sins they present God as foreknowing, this led the deists to deny that these scriptures embody a divine revelation and to hold that those who obeyed the moral law common to the monotheistic religions would be saved, no matter what version of monotheism they accepted. Mersenne interpreted this view as a rationalization of the deists’ desire to live a libertine life. For further discussion, see Curley 2000. Van Velthuysen seems to accept Mersenne’s understanding of deism, and to recognize that Spinoza’s position is more radical than deism.

2. The parenthetical comment alludes to a common argument for free will, according to which God’s giving men commands implies that they have the power to obey those commands or disobey them. Cf. Erasmus 1524, 54–61.

3. A great many interpreters have agreed with Van Velthuysen in reading Spinoza’s metaphysics as identifying God with the universe. Cf. “Spinoza,” Remark A (Bayle 2001, 531). But prima facie Letter 43, IV/223b/22–25, rejects (and resents) that interpretation.

4. The “paradoxical theologian” is Spinoza’s friend Lodewijk Meyer, who argued in Meyer 1666 that reason is the interpreter of Scripture. On Meyer and his relation to Spinoza, see Israel 2001, ch. 11. Some have suggested that Van Velthuysen here misunderstands Spinoza’s position in the TTP, conflating it with Meyer’s (in Meyer 1666). But he clearly understands that Spinoza does not think reason should be the interpreter of Scripture, not only here, but also below, at IV/215/15–22.

5. [Spinoza’s note]: “He is wrong to say this, for I expressly showed that miracles don’t give any knowledge of God, but that [such knowledge] is drawn much better from the fixed order of nature.” [This note, written in Dutch, comes from the NS, and is not in the OP. It’s not clear that Spinoza has cause to complain of what Van Velthuysen says here, or that his response is to the point. Spinoza plainly does hold that if we take a miracle to be, by definition, an event contrary to the laws of nature, there are, and can be, no miracles (TTP vi, 7–12). He goes on to allow that if we take the term “miracle” to mean an event whose natural cause we can’t explain by showing it to be an example of the usual order of things—or at least, an event which can’t be so explained by the person who relates the story of the miracle—there can be miracles (TTP vi, 13–15). But Van Velthuysen clearly has in mind the first definition, according to which Spinoza does indeed deny that miracles occur. Note that Spinoza does not accuse Van Velthuysen of misrepresenting him on this issue when he replies in Letter 43.]

6. The words italicized here are also italicized in the OP, normally the sign of a quotation. They don’t quote exactly any passage in TTP vi, but do seem to be a fair paraphrase of views expressed in vi, 3, and vi, 14.

7. I have been unable to locate passages in which Spinoza makes all the claims about prayer which Van Velthuysen ascribes to him in this paragraph. But he does make some of them in the Preface, §§3–4, and in vi, 49. The rest seem to be in the spirit of his philosophy. Spinoza does not reply on this issue in Letter 43.

8. Perhaps an allusion to the doctrine of original sin, which might be an obstacle to virtue if it was thought to teach that fallen man is so corrupt that he has no power to do good, and therefore need not try.

9. Van Velthuysen may be thinking of Philip II’s effort to repress the Reformation in the territories which revolted against his rule toward the end of the sixteenth century, creating the United Provinces.

10. The date in AHW. Van de Ven Facts dates it between 4 and 17 February.

11. Spinoza’s word here is libellum, which can mean a small book or pamphlet. The length of Van Velthuysen’s “letter” may have encouraged Spinoza to suspect that it was intended for circulation. Cf. Letter 69.

12. At this point the autograph shows a passage Spinoza wrote and then struck out: “for both the cunning and the superstitious and ignorant commonly have an evil intention; however that may be, his insults don’t bother me; I know how men like that are accustomed to treat honest men; so to sum up briefly what I want to show, I’ll note only a few of the many things he’s said. You must draw your own conclusions about the rest.” After he deleted this passage, Spinoza replaced it with Sed ad rem, but to the matter.

13. Cf. IV/207/13, paraphrased rather than quoted exactly.

14. Note that Spinoza does not offer this as a definition of atheism, however much it might articulate a popular seventeenth-century conception of that position. He offers it merely as a general, not universal, characteristic of atheists.

15. Here the words italicized are not italicized in the text. But Spinoza gives what amounts to a direct quotation of IV/207/27–28.

16. Spinoza’s example reminds Van Velthuysen that he too might have been subjected to the same accusation: he was a Cartesian, and Spinoza knows it. (IV/222b/23)

17. Cf. IV/207/22–23.

18. AHW add italics to words not italicized in the OP. With slight modification, the words are a quotation of IV/218/33–34.

19. Cf. Descartes, Principles of Philosophy I, 40 (AT 1974–86, VIII-1, 20).

20. Cf. Descartes, Meditation III (AT 1974–86, VII, 49).

21. Cf. Descartes, Principles of Philosophy I, 41 (AT 1974–86, VIII-1, 20).

22. Cf. IV/208/6–7.

23. IV/208/29–32.

24. Here Spinoza seems willing to accept the proposition that all things emanate from God, but to deny that it follows that the universe is God, and to regard that inference as “offensive” (odiosus). However, in a remark reported in the Stolle-Hallmann travel diary he may accept the equation: “To the objection that if this Universe is God, then men are parts of God, Spinoza used to answer: God or this Universe is infinite, but the infinite is not a whole, and therefore does not even have parts” (Freudenthal 1899, 223; Gebhardt/Walther 1998, 128).

25. IV/209/3–6.

26. Cf. TTP xii, 34.

27. So if we understand pluralism as the doctrine that salvation is possible in many religions, Spinoza is a pluralist. On this topic, see Letter 76 and Curley 2010.

28. Neither the NS nor the OP gives the name. Wolf, followed by AHW, conjectured that it might have been Theodore Kranen, a Cartesian professor at the University of Leiden, mentioned at the beginning of Letter 67. For more on Kranen, see Meinsma 1983, 475. Johannes Graevius, the addressee of Letter 49, has also been suggested (Meinsma 1983, 392).

29. It’s thought that, in addition to the other support Jelles gave Spinoza, he may also have subsidized this translation. The theory is that that’s why it was Jelles Spinoza wrote to, when he wanted to halt publication of that translation. According to Duijkerius (1991, 195), Glazemaker was the translator. His translation did not appear until 1693, when it was published under the provocative title De rechtzinnige theologant, of godgeleerde staatkundige verhandelinge (The orthodox theologian, or theological-political treatise).

30. Israel 1996 argues that “Spinoza’s Tractatus Theologico-Politicus was never freely in circulation, or on sale, in the United Provinces, not even in the first few months after its publication, even though there was no formal ban against the work by the States of Holland until July 1674.” On the initial reaction to the TTP, see also Nadler 2011.

31. Homo politicus, published anonymously in 1664, is generally attributed to Christopher Rapp, Chancellor to the Elector of Brandenburg.

32. One example Spinoza would likely have given was the Roman Republic, portrayed by the historians of its declining days as a state whose fall was due to its corruption by greed and ambition. Cf. Earl 1961, ch. 4.

33. I have been unable to locate a source for attributing this argument to Thales, but its first premise, that friends have all things in common, was already proverbial in the time of Terence. Cf. his Adelphi 803, cited in Letter 2. As Wolf noted, the bracketed clause is present in the OP version but not in the NS. Since it seems necessary for the conclusion Spinoza draws, its absence in the NS is a probably the result of inadvertent omission when the letter was set in type and an indication that the OP translation was done from the manuscript, not from the NS.

34. This story is told (very briefly) in Diogenes Laertius (Lives of Eminent Philosophers I, 26) and much more fully in Aristotle (Politics I, 11, 1259a5ff.).

35. I have discussed Leibniz’s early relations with Spinoza briefly in the Editorial Preface to these letters, and more fully in Curley 1990a. Though Leibniz does not mention the TTP, it’s clear from his correspondence that he had read it, and knew full well that Spinoza was its author. Van de Ven Facts, ch. 9, provides thorough documentation. On the general subject of Leibniz’s relation to Spinoza the work to read now is Laerke 2008.

36. Published in Frankfurt in 1671, and now available in the Akademie edition, VIII, i, 131–36.

37. Franciscus Lana (1631–1687) was a Professor of Philosophy and Mathematics in Rome. His Prodromo was published in Brescia in 1670.

38. This is apparently Johannes Heinrich Ott. See Continuum Companion 2011, 28.

39. Apparently Johannes de Diemerbroeck, a correspondent of Leibniz who lived in Utrecht, not IJsbrand Diemerbroeck, professor of medicine at Utrecht, who condemned Adriaan Koerbagh for his impiety. Cf. AHW, 487 with Meinsma 1983, 383n.

40. Leibniz’s Hypothesis physica nova was first published in Mainz, in 1671, in two parts: The Theory of Abstract Motion (dedicated to the French Academy) and The Theory of Concrete Motion (dedicated to the British Royal Society). Now available in Leibniz, Akademie edition, VI, ii, 219–57. Loemker translated the first part in Leibniz, Loemker, 139–42. He comments that it antedates Leibniz’s Paris period, when “under the particular tutelage of Huyghens, [he first] developed [an] adequate understanding of the issues in modern mathematics and physics.”

41. Though Leibniz’s letter is written in Latin, this address is written in French. In addressing Spinoza as a Medecin tres celebre, Leibniz is identifying him as a scientist, not a medical doctor (Gebhardt/Walther 1986). Evidently Leibniz is misinformed about Spinoza’s address, not realizing that at this point he is living in The Hague.

42. That is, capable of receiving all the rays of light.

43. Cf. Letter 40, IV/200–201.

44. In this paragraph and the postscript I have normalized the treatment of titles. Spinoza’s autographs typically use very little capitalization. Sometimes, but not always, they capitalize the beginning of a sentence; normally they do not capitalize the works in a book title. “Prodromus” is probably capitalized because in the Latin it comes at the beginning of a sentence.

45. The signature, address, date, and postscript were omitted in the OP. I take Spinoza’s offer to send a copy of the TTP to Leibniz to be a tacit acknowledgment of his authorship. Leibniz had read the TTP over a year earlier, as we know from a letter to Jakob Thomasius, his former teacher at the University of Leipzig, praising Thomasius’ critique of Spinoza’s work (23 September 1670, Akademie edition, II, i, 66). Johannes Graevius had reported to him that Spinoza was said to be the author of this work (12 April 1671, Akademie edition, I, i, 141–43), a report he sometimes accepted (to Thomasius, 21 January 1672, II, i, 205; to Graevius, 5 May 1671, I, i, 148) and sometimes expressed doubt about (to Von Holten, 17 February 1672, II, i, 208). This is only a small selection of the references to Spinoza’s work in Leibniz’s correspondence, as the indices of these Akademie volumes will show. Perhaps significant is that Leibniz typically referred to Spinoza’s work as a book “On the liberty of philosophizing.”

46. Karl Ludwig (1617–1680), the son of Frederick V and Elizabeth Stuart, thus the nephew of Charles I of England and the brother of that Princess Elizabeth who was Descartes’ correspondent, not (as incautiously reported by some editors) the brother of his patron, Queen Christina of Sweden). He grew up in the Netherlands, studied at the University of Leiden, and spent time at the English Court in the 1630s and 1640s. He became Elector Palatine as a result of the Peace of Westphalia in 1648. For more details, see the Editorial Preface, pp. 362–64.

47. An “ordinary” professorship was the equivalent, in German academic life, of what we call a full professorship.

48. Perhaps an allusion to the way the subject of the TTP was commonly designated by Leibniz and his correspondents.

49. On the history of this letter, see the Editorial Preface, pp. 367–68.

50. What we have up to this point is Jelles’s introduction to his Profession. What follows is an abridged version of the Profession, omitting the passages from Scripture which he used to justify his affirmations. The affirmations themselves are generally quotations or paraphrases of scriptural passages, predominantly from the New Testament, with a strong emphasis on the letters of Paul, and the gospel of John. The section numbers which I have put in brackets are not in the text as Spruit presents it.

51. From Jelles/Spruit 1684/2004, 12–24.

52. From Jelles/Spruit 1684/2004, 26–48.

53. From Jelles/Spruit 1684/2004, 50–58.

54. From Jelles/Spruit 1684/2004, 60–64.

55. From Jelles/Spruit 1684/2004, 66–70.

56. From Jelles/Spruit 1684/2004, 72–124.

57. At this point—a little over halfway through his text [Jelles/Spruit 1684/2004, 124]—Jelles concludes his Profession, and begins a long discussion divided into four sections: I. An affirmation of the orthodoxy of his Profession; II. On the meaning and interpretation of Holy Scripture, with a refutation of the Catholic position on this subject; III. What the saving faith in Christ really is, and how justification, sanctification, liberation, etc., are consequences of it; and IV. On the saving grace of Christ Jesus, and on its irresistible power. I omit these sections of the work and proceed to his concluding paragraphs.

58. According to Dr. Hallman’s report, Spinoza replied to Jelles’s letter on 19 April 1673. So it seems a reasonable guess that Spinoza received his letter early in that year.

59. On the provenance of these reports, see the Editorial Preface, pp. 371–72.

60. This is rather surprising, since Bayle usually identifies Spinoza as an atheist, e.g., in the first paragraph of his Dictionary article on Spinoza, with elaboration in Remark A (Bayle 2001, 525, 531). But then in Remark I, he quotes Kortholt as reporting that Spinoza declared himself to be a Christian, that he attended Reformed or Lutheran services, and that he often encouraged others to do the same.

61. The italicized words are in Latin (and in italics) in what is otherwise a French context. Essentially they translate into Latin the French Bayle has just used to report Spinoza’s view. This gives the impression that the Latin provides the source, in Spinoza’s letter, of the French just quoted. But any letter Spinoza wrote to Jelles would have been in Dutch, not Latin.

62. Wolf 1966 noted that no statement like the one here criticized appeared in the printed text of Jelles’s Profession, and conjectured that Jelles subsequently omitted that statement in response to Spinoza’s objection. AHW (490) agree that Jelles probably modified what he had said, but also suggest that Hallman may have meant to refer, not to p. 5 of the manuscript but to what is §5 in the printed Profession, where Jelles discusses man’s corruption, though not in a way which might have prompted Spinoza’s comment.

Another possibility which deserves consideration is that the version of Jelles’s Profession Spinoza saw in 1673 was much shorter than the published version. We have no way of knowing how much the original letter may have changed in the ten years between Jelles’s sending it to Spinoza and his death. But if the scriptural quotations justifying his positions were a later addition, then the document he sent Spinoza in 1673 would have been much shorter than the one published in 1684, and his discussion of human corruption might have occurred much earlier, perhaps as early as p. 5 of the manuscript.

63. Dirck (or Theodor) Kerckring (1639–1693) studied Latin with Spinoza’s teacher, Van den Enden, and medicine at the University of Leiden, around the time Spinoza was in Rijnsburg. In 1671 he married Clara Maria van den Enden. According to Colerus, Spinoza competed with Kerckring for Clara Maria’s hand, though many are skeptical of this. Clara was only thirteen when Spinoza was twenty-five, perhaps a bit young to marry even in those days. Cf. Nadler 1999, 108–9. Kerckring used lenses ground by Spinoza in his microscopes, and Spinoza possessed two of the books which resulted from his medical research.

64. Apparently this was the title of a book, but nothing seems to be known about it.

65. Mertens has identified “Mr. Vallon” as Dr. Jacob Vallan (1637–1740), who studied philosophy at Leiden, and received a medical degree there in 1658. He practiced medicine in Amsterdam, and with Lodewijk Meyer was a director of the City Theater in Amsterdam in the late 1660s. It is thought that he came to know Spinoza either through Meyer or Johannes Bouwmeester, who also studied medicine at Leiden around the same time. In 1675 he became a professor of anatomy at Leiden. See Mertens 2011.

66. Apparently Hendrik van Bronckhorst, a Cartesian and a doctor, who wrote the poem praising Spinoza which was used at the beginning of the Dutch translation of his exposition of Descartes.

67. The letter concerning Descartes’ death was apparently written by Johannes a Wullen, an Amsterdam doctor living in Sweden, to W. Piso, a doctor in Amsterdam, on 1 February 1650. According to Wolf, Wullen alleged that Descartes was “wholly to blame for his death, because he did not consult a doctor when he first became ill, and would not accept Wullen’s services when, at the request of the Queen of Sweden, he visited Descartes and offered to treat him. To crown it all, Descartes resorted to excessive blood-letting when he was too weak, in consequence of having taken no nourishment for several days” (Wolf 1966, 445).

68. We don’t know who “Mr. de V” was, but speculation has focused on Burchard de Volder.

69. The OP has a more formal greeting, which might be translated “Most Esteemed Sir.”

70. NS: Stat (= modern Stad = city). So OP: Urbs. AHW note that Spinoza probably meant to write Staat (= Civitas = state). This is probably evidence that Spinoza did not do the Latin translation himself.

71. NS: bevat. OP: percipere, perceives. But when bevat recurs at IV/240/32, the OP translates it: concipere.

72. The Utrecht professor was Reinier van Mansvelt (1639–1671), a Cartesian whose Adversus anonymum theologo-politicum liber singularis was published in Amsterdam in 1674. In spite of what Spinoza says about not buying his book, a copy was found in his library after his death. Perhaps someone gave it to him.

73. Both the OP and the NS have a series of dots here, indicating an omission. AHW suggest “professors” or “booksellers” as possible ways of filling in the blank.

74. The NS have “2 May 1671,” which can’t be right, given the mention of Van Mansvelt’s book. The OP has 2 June 1674, which AHW accept.

75. NS: verschijningen en nachtgeesten, of spoken. OP: apparitionibus, & Spectris, vel Lemuribus. Neither Boxel, nor Spinoza, nor whoever translated their correspondence into Latin, seems able to settle on a stable terminology to refer to these supposed creatures. So I give both the Dutch and the Latin in my notes.

76. Here I follow the OP. The NS reads: zo gy niet ontkent dat zy’er zijn, gy ook niet gelooft dat enigen van de zelfden zielen van gestorve menschen zijn, which would be translated: “if you don’t deny that they exist, you also don’t believe that some of them are souls of dead men.”

77. NS: nachtspoken, of geesten. OP: . . . vel Lemures. It appears that a word has been omitted in the OP.

78. NS: nachtspoken, grillen, en inbeeldingen. OP: Spectra, phantasmata, ac imaginationes.

79. NS: spoken. OP: Spectris.

80. NS: nachtspoken. OP: Spectra.

81. NS: spoken. OP: Spectra.

82. NS: spooken, of geesten. OP: Spectra vel Spiritus.

83. NS: geesten en nachtsproken. OP: Lemuribus, Spectrisque.

84. Added from the OP version of the letter.

85. No date in the OP or NS. AHW suggest these dates.

86. The italicized phrase is in Latin in an otherwise Dutch context.

87. By this I take it Boxel means no heavenly body which is not a source of light, but (like the planets and their satellites) shines only with reflected light.

88. Johannes Wierius (also called Weyer), a sixteenth-century Dutch physician, believed in the power of demons, but was skeptical of many of the stories about the occult. He opposed the persecution of witches, arguing that those accused of witchcraft were mentally ill. His On Ghosts (1577) was one of many books he wrote on this and related topics.

89. Ludwig Lavater was a sixteenth-century Swiss Reformed theologian whose work on ghosts (De spectris, lemuribus et magnis atque insolitis fragoribus, Leiden, 1569) was one of the most frequently printed demonological works of the early modern period.

90. Gerolamo Cardano, a sixteenth-century mathematician and astrologer, whose formulation of the elementary rules of probability made him a pioneer in the field. Wolf describes his De Subtilitate Rerum (1551) and De Rerum Varietate (1557) as attempts to explain natural phenomena in a way which was “highly creditable for that period” because of its commitment to the inviolability of the laws of nature.

91. Philip Melanchthon (1497–1560), a leader of the Lutheran Reformation in Germany.

92. Here and elsewhere in the next few lines Gebhardt’s version of the Dutch text has gaps which can be filled on the basis of the NS. The others are not as consequential as this one.

93. Alexander ab Alexandro (1461–1523) was an Italian jurist who published his Dies Geniales in 1522.

94. Petrus Thyraeus was a sixteenth-century German theologian who published his De apparitionibus spirituum in 1600.

95. This paragraph is crossed out in the copy and does not appear at all in either the OP or the NS. Neither the OP nor the NS versions of Letter 52 contain a passage in which Spinoza says he cannot commend Boxel to God without smiling. Probably Boxel had concluded Letter 51 by commending Spinoza to God, in a passage deleted by the editors, and as a result the editors also deleted the passage in Letter 52 in which Spinoza responded.

96. Wolf, perhaps misunderstanding Gebhardt’s annotation, reported that this paragraph, like the one preceding it, did not appear in the OP, and the Hackett editors, perhaps following Wolf, made the same claim. But in fact it is there (and in the NS).

97. The OP, as is typically the case, is more flowery: Amplissime Vir, (say) most distinguished sir.

98. Name omitted in NS. OP: memoratus Consul, the burgermeister you mentioned.

99. Neither the OP nor the NS gives a date, but this date can be inferred from the opening of the letter.

100. OP: Acutissime Vir, Most Acute Sir.

101. From the OP.

102. Cf. Aristotle, 196b10–197a5, 1025a14–29.

103. A work commonly known by its Latin title, De placitis philosophorum, and traditionally included in editions of Plutarch’s Moralia, though now rejected as spurious.

104. De genio Socratis, in Plutarch, Moralia VII, 361–509 (LCL, 1984).

105. Spurina was the augur who warned Caesar to beware the ides of March. See Suetonius, “Life of Caesar,” lxxxi.

106. Date suggested by AHW.

107. NS: by de tast gaan. OP: multa ex conjectura facere, doing many things on the basis of conjectures.

108. Sextus does not say quite this in any writing which has come down to us, and indeed, says the opposite in Against the Physicists I, 310. (See Akkerman in AHW, 494.) He does, however, use certain paradoxes about the nature of wholes and parts to deny that there are such things as wholes and parts (Outlines of Pyrrhonism III, 98–101; Against the Physicists I, 338–49). Spinoza may have thought that claim entailed a rejection of the geometric axiom. Or he may be citing Sextus from memory, and misremembering the passage. Sextus’ works do not appear in our catalogue of the books in his library.

109. I take this to count strongly against interpretations of Spinoza’s metaphysics according to which he was not committed to there being more than two divine attributes. The most notable recent advocate of this view is Bennett 1985, 75–79.

110. NS: iemant van d’Atomisten, of stellers van onzichtbare deeltjes. OP: aliquem ex Atomistis, atomorumque defensoribus, one of the Atomists and defenders of atoms. Akkerman 1980, 55–56, conjectures that the NS gloss on atomisten is an editorial interpolation.

111. What Diogenes Laertius reports (on the authority of Aristoxenus—see his Lives of the Philosophers IX, 40) is that Plato wanted to burn all the writings of Democritus, but that two Pythagoreans prevented him, arguing that Democritus’s works were already too widely circulated for suppression to be feasible.

112. The date is suggested by AHW.

113. The OP does not explicitly indicate any omission of text, but “at least” suggests that some portion of Tschirnhaus’s letter to Spinoza has been omitted (perhaps by Schuller, perhaps by the OP editors).

114. AT 1974–86, VI, 2: La puissance de bien juger, et de distinguer le vraie avec le faux . . . est naturellement egale en tous les hommes.

115. OP: Quis enim mihi negaret . . . quod non possum in meis cogitationibus cogitare. As various editors have observed, the OP has one negation too many.

116. Tschirnhaus does not identify the edition of Descartes’ correspondence he is using, but since he apparently did not know much French (Letter 70), he is unlikely to have used a French edition of the correspondence. There is a Latin edition which is a good candidate: Descartes 1668. In that edition Letters VIII and IX are the letters Descartes wrote to Elisabeth on 6 October and 3 November 1645 (AT 1974–86, IV, 304–17, 330–34). Each discusses free will. If this is right, that would make the third letter the one Descartes wrote to Reneri for Pollot (the second letter in Part II of that edition, pp. 3–10, = AT 1974–86, II, 34–47).

117. Jan Rieuwertsz (the elder), an Amsterdam bookseller, who published all of Spinoza’s works and Glazemaker’s translations of the works of Descartes. His shop was a meeting place where those who challenged received opinions could discuss their ideas. For further details, see Meinsma 1983 passim.

118. The bracketed material is supplied from Tschirnhaus’s Letter 57, IV/262/22–27.

119. Spinoza’s language is close, but not identical, to that in E I D7.

120. Cf. E II P35S, III P2S.

121. Another allusion to Ovid’s Metamorphoses VII, 20–21, which is thematic for Part IV of the Ethics. Euripedes attributed a similar sentiment to the heroine of his Medea (1078–80), but the context was very different (not the decision to betray her father by helping Jason steal the golden fleece, but the later decision to avenge Jason’s betrayal of her by killing their children). See AHW, 496.

122. This is not quite what Descartes says in the Fourth Meditation, where in the end he makes freedom consist, not in our ability to do either A or not-A, but in our feeling that we are not determined to do what we do by any external force—or, depending on the placement of the negation, in our not feeling (not being aware?) that we are determined by an external force. Cf. AT 1974–86, VII, 57–58. Spinoza’s critique of Descartes in E II P35S seems to depend on the latter reading. But Descartes’ letter to Elisabeth of 3 November 1645 seems to make freedom depend on our awareness of our independence (without, however, explaining how our independence is consistent with God’s infinite power). For a helpful survey of the issues and texts, see Jayasekera 2014.

123. Cf. Letter 57, IV/263/27–31. Note that the superfluous negation in Tschirnhaus’s letter is missing from Spinoza’s paraphrase.

124. Cf. Letter 57, IV/264/6–7, quoted slightly freely.

125. Cf. Descartes, Principles I, 39–41. Also relevant is the Letter to Elisabeth of 6 October 1645 (AT 1974–86, IV, 314).

126. Date suggested by AHW.

127. It’s clear from this letter that Spinoza had discussed with Tschirnhaus at least some of the content of the TdIE, and had led him to anticipate the publication of that work in some form. AHW (496) suggest that the rest of the letter shows a familiarity with the contents of TdIE 96ff.

128. Evidently Tschirnhaus had also seen at least a partial draft of the Ethics. See the physical excursus after E II P13S, II/97/18–102/18.

129. Tschirnhaus apparently assumes that an adequate idea of a (created) thing will satisfy the requirements for a definition of a created thing, laid down in TdIE 96. Cf. II/35/10–28.

130. This is a theorem in Euclid’s Elements, Bk. III, Prop. 35, also referred to in E II P8S. If an adequate idea of a thing is one which provides a good definition of it, then on Spinoza’s principles the idea of a circle as a geometric figure all of whose radii are equal will not be an adequate idea of a circle. Cf. TdIE §95.

131. The ordinates (or applicates) of a conic section are any of the chords perpendicular to, and bisected by, the axis of symmetry of the conic section. They can be used to measure the perimeter or area of a curve. But Tschirnhaus prefers an alternate method, involving the use of tangents. Wolf 1966, 456–57, has an elegant explanation of this.

132. Though Descartes sometimes defines God by listing his attributes (e.g., at AT 1974–86, VII, 40, 45), his preferred definition is that God is a supremely perfect being (AT 1974–86, VII, 46, 162). In Curley 1986 I made a conjecture about the reasons for that preference. Perhaps Spinoza accepted this Cartesian definition in the Short Treatise. So AHW maintain, citing the note attached to KV I, ii, 1. I don’t find this evidence compelling. But certainly by September 1661, in Letter 2, although Spinoza accepts the Cartesian formula as articulating what “we understand by God,” the definition he chooses for his axiomatization is the one he was to adopt in the Ethics. Cf. IV/7/23–8/3. Letter 60 may explain why he made that choice.

133. Date suggested by AHW.

134. Italicized in the OP, but not the NS. So this emphasis may be the work of the OP editors, not a feature of the original letter, which has not been preserved. On Oldenburg’s change of heart regarding Spinoza, see Letter 63, IV/276a, and the annotation there.

135. This letter has apparently not been preserved.

136. The OP and NS omit these first two paragraphs, substituting for them the following sentence, which is also written on the original as an instruction to the printer: “I earnestly ask you to please resolve the doubts raised here and to send us your response to them.”

137. Cf. Aristotle, Prior Analytics II, 14, 62b29–31, where “probative demonstrations” (which start from propositions admitted as true) are contrasted with demonstrations per impossibile (which seek to refute by reduction to a proposition admitted to be false).

138. Wolf (1966, 460) contended that this way of putting things involves “a grave misconception” of Spinoza’s thought. But if Stolle-Hallman’s travel journal may be trusted, Spinoza did sometimes express himself this way (AHW). That journal reports Spinoza as saying: “the world is eternal,” but “there are many worlds” (Freudenthal 1899, 223; Gebhardt/Walther 1998, 128).

139. A: amplitudinis. OP: extensionis. I take it that the “size” of the different worlds which Tschirnhaus and Schuller are hypothesizing would be a question, not of their physical extent, since worlds other than that of extension have no extension—this is why Tschirnhaus and Schuller apologize for putting things the way they do—but of the number of their members. So if the other worlds have the same “size,” that means there would be a one-to-one correspondence between members of one world and members of another. The OP’s way of putting this seems infelicitous.

140. Cf. E I P17S (II/62/34ff).

141. At this point Gebhardt attaches a note which reads: “The face of the whole of nature, which, though it varies in infinite ways, always remains the same. See II P13S.” This note (a quotation from Letter 64) was written in the margins of the original letter, in the same hand which wrote the note at IV/274/21–22. But it was evidently not intended as an editorial instruction to the printer. (Pace the Hackett editors, it was not printed in the OP.) Oldenburg’s language (publico destinati) does not imply that he thought the Ethics was intended for the general public, but just that he thought it intended for publication (as Glazemaker understood it, in the NS).

142. When did this conversation with Boyle and Oldenburg about the TTP occur? If it was before Oldenburg’s letter of 8 June 1675, then Tschirnhaus may have played a role in changing Oldenburg’s mind which Oldenburg’s letter does not acknowledge. If it was after the letter, then the favorable opinion of Spinoza which Oldenburg expressed in that letter was not very stable.

143. It’s unclear just what this direction was. Cf. Wolf 1966, AHW, Hackett.

144. Pieter van Gent was a friend of Schuller and Tschirnhaus, who copied out significant portions of Spinoza’s works at Schuller’s request, apparently preparing them for the printer. See Steenbakkers 1994, 35–50.

145. I.e., II P6.

146. The gender of the relative pronoun, quae, which is feminine, implies that its antecedent must be facies, face, not universum, universe, which is neuter. Some interpretations of this passage seem to imply otherwise. E.g., Garrett 1991, 198.

147. This opening phrase suggests that our text of this letter is a fragment of what was originally a longer letter.

148. I’ve commented in some detail on Burgh’s exchange with Spinoza in Curley 2010.

149. Spelled “Craenen” in the OP, but the NS spelling seems to be more correct. On Kranen, see Meinsma 1983, 475, n. 1.

150. The TTP. Perhaps the point about the title is that it implies a connection between theology and politics which indicates that theology is a tool of politics. See Berti 1994, 1996.

151. Perhaps Burgh is alluding to TTP vii, 16–22.

152. Spinoza believed in Christ crucified, in the sense that he believed in the historical fact of Jesus’ crucifixion, but not, I think, in the sense Burgh probably had in mind: that Jesus’ death on the cross atoned for the sins of mankind. See Letter 78, IV/328a/8ff.

153. Burgh is more a believer in the supernatural than Boxel. Cf. Letter 53, IV/248b/25–27.

154. OP: post Christum. NS: na Christus Hemelvaart.

155. That is: if I followed your skeptical principles.

156. An allusion to 1 Cor. 1:21–25.

157. This classic Catholic argument for the superiority of (Catholic) Christianity to other religions goes back at least to Aquinas (SCG I, vi, 3).

158. The accusation that the Jewish people were responsible for the death of Jesus has been a Christian tradition since the early days of the church, and remains a difficult subject for Christians and Jews alike. Two recent analyses of the gospel accounts which read them in quite different ways are Brown 1994 and Crossan 1996. Cohen 2007 offers a thoughtful reflection on the history of this tradition.

159. OP: Religionis Judaicae, quae tunc vera erat. NS: de Joodsche Godsdienst . . . de welk in die tijt de ware was. If the NS’s definite article is justified, as I think it is, then we must supply a noun, and “religion” seems the natural choice. Shirley (1995) made this choice. Wolf (1966) chose not to use a definite article.

160. This letter does not come to us from any of our usual sources, but from its publication in Florence in 1675. See the Editorial Preface for more details. The book Steno refers to in his first sentence is clearly the TTP.

161. In TTP iii, 20, Spinoza says that the end of every state is to live securely and conveniently. I know of no passage in that work which would justify the gloss Steno puts on this statement.

162. Cf. TTP iii, 12; iv, 9; v, 19, and xx, 12.

163. 2:21 in the Wisdom of Solomon, a work accepted as canonical in Roman Catholic, Greek, and Russian Orthodox Bibles, but not in Protestant or Jewish Bibles.

164. Matt. 8:22 (or Luke 9:60).

165. Ps. 92:5 (Vulgate = 93:5 in Protestant Bibles).

166. Referring, presumably, to the members of monastic orders.

167. alterum idiotarum vestro loquendi modo ita dictorum. An idiota is a common person, who is presumed to be ignorant or uneducated. The “you” is plural, referring not only to Spinoza, but to all non-Catholics. So Steno is claiming that there is a general assumption among non-Catholics that those who are not educated will have ideas of God which are not properly elevated.

168. G: rato, but the first edition has raro, and AHW assume this reading (as does Shirley 1995).

169. Bennett suggests the following paraphrase: “We aren’t impressed by a miracle just because it is a miracle.” This may capture Steno’s intent better than my more literal translation.

170. Perhaps a reminiscence of various phrases in the Vulgate: Exod. 8:10, 3 Kings 8:23 (= 1 Kings 8:23 in Protestant Bibles), 2 Chron. 6:14, Ps. 85:8 (= 86:8 in Protestant Bibles).

171. It’s unclear what Spinoza said about the Pope which might have led Steno to say this. None of the references to the Pope in the TTP seems apt. There’s a passage in Letter 76 (IV/317a/10–17) which might justify the claim. But the probable date of that letter seems to exclude the possibility that Steno knew it when he wrote this letter. In any event, by the end of Letter 76 Spinoza is quite caustic about the Pope. Perhaps Steno is referring to something Spinoza said in conversation in the period when they were friends.

172. An allusion to Exod. 8:19.

173. Previously Steno had used the second person singular of the verb. Here (and below) he switches to the second person plural. I presume his “you” includes Spinoza, Descartes, and any other philosopher defending the “new” philosophy. Cf. AHW.

174. Justin Martyr (c. 100–165 C.E.), whose Dialogue with Trypho described his conversion to Christianity by an unidentified old man whom he met one day after a spiritual quest which had led him to examine Stoics, Aristotelians, Pythagoreans, and Platonists. The Trypho of the dialogue is a Jew whose criticisms of Christianity Justin rebuts.

175. As various commentators have observed, Steno’s quotation is a bit free. More accurate would be: “A long time ago . . . long before the time of those so-called philosophers, there lived blessed men who were just and loved by God, men who spoke through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit and predicted events that would take place in the future, which events are now taking place.” The speaker (Justin’s “old man”) goes on to say: “We call these men the prophets.” Justin Martyr 2003a, VII, 1. (Similarly in Justin Martyr 2003b.)

176. Justin Martyr 2003a, VIII, 1.

177. Augustine’s Confessions record his eventual conversion to Christianity after passing through Manichaeism and Neoplatonism.

178. Not that all the Cartesians were hostile to Spinoza. Van Bunge 2001 gives an account of Spinoza’s friends in that camp which includes such names as Lodewijk Meyer, Adriaan Koerbagh, Simon de Vries, Pieter Balling, and Jarig Jelles. But as Van Bunge shows, Cartesians like Van Velthuysen were extremely nervous about being associated with Spinoza.

179. The first indication of a plan for a second edition of the TTP. There’ll be a second mention in Letter 69. On the annotations which did survive in various sources, see the Editorial Preface to the TTP.

180. Date suggested by AHW.

181. Joachim Nieuwstad was secretary of the city of Utrecht from 1662 to 1674, at the end of which time the Prince of Orange discharged him along with various other followers of Jan de Witt.

182. “My treatise” is the TTP, and the manuscript by Van Velthuysen, Letter 42. Spinoza had met Van Velthuysen on a trip to Utrecht in 1673, and apparently the two men then came to a better understanding of one another. See Nadler 1999, 317.

183. Presumably Spinoza means here the opponents who have published attacks on the TTP, and not Van Velthuysen, whose ability he evidently respects.

184. To judge from Letter 72, this must have been a work dealing with a procedure for making gold out of base metals. At the beginning of this letter, just before the salutation, Schuller has placed an astrological symbol for the sun. He will repeat this in Letter 72.

185. Tschirnhaus had instructions to say nothing about the Ethics, as becomes clear later in this letter.

186. Jean-Baptiste Colbert (1619–1683), finance minister of Louis XIV.

187. That is, the things represented by the ideas.

188. It’s difficult to see how Tschirnhaus could get this out of II P5, which reads: “The formal being of ideas admits God as a cause only insofar as he is considered as a thinking thing, and not insofar as he is explained by any other attribute. That is, ideas, both of God’s attributes and of singular things, do not admit the objects [ideata] themselves, or the things perceived, as their efficient cause, but [only] God himself, insofar as he is a thinking thing.” So P5 quite explicitly denies that the things ideas represent are their cause, as Spinoza points out when he replies in Letter 72, where he asks whether there has not been a slip of the pen, either in Tschirnhaus’s letter or in the copy of the Ethics he is using (IV/305/4ff.).

189. It’s not clear in Schuller’s letter precisely where paraphrase of Tschirnhaus ends and quotation begins. The use of the first person here indicates that by this point, at least, we have a quotation. My indentation is meant to convey my assumption that all the indented material (and hence, the whole of this sentence) is quotation. But AHW and the Pléiade editors take the quote to begin with the words here translated “perhaps (as I rather think).” Shirley 2002 punctuates in a way which would agree with my reading.

190. In spite of these assurances, Tschirnhaus does seem to have shown less discretion when he shared a manuscript of the Ethics with Nicholas Steno. See the Editorial Preface, regarding Letter 67bis, pp. 366–67.

191. Unfortunately this letter seems to have been lost. Leibniz could be quite critical of the TTP in his correspondence with others. Writing in October 1670 to his former teacher at Leipzig, Jakob Thomasius, who had reviewed the TTP quite critically, he praised him for treating as it deserved that “intolerably outspoken book on the liberty of philosophizing” (23 September 1670, Leibniz, Akademie edition, II, i, 66). Wolf ([1966] followed by the Hackett editors) accuses him of professing whatever views were likely to suit his interlocutors. I think this is unfair to Leibniz. I believe he had deeply mixed feelings. While he deplored the tendency of the TTP to undermine Christianity, he admired the ability and learning of its author. So far as I can see, he never condemned it as harshly as his correspondents usually did. And he normally mixed some praise with his criticism, even when writing to vehement opponents of Spinoza. To Graevius, for example, who had described the TTP in an earlier letter as a “detestable and horrible” book, he expressed the wish that Spinoza might be refuted by someone who equaled his knowledge of “oriental letters,” but was dedicated to the Christian cause (5 May 1671, Leibniz, Akademie edition, I, i, 144).

192. Oldenburg’s language (publico destinati) does not imply that he thought the Ethics was intended for the general public, but just that he thought it intended for publication (as Glazemaker understood it, in the NS).

Akkerman points out that although Spinoza’s reply characterizes Oldenburg’s letter as “very short,” it might still have included more about the Ethics than the OP editors chose to reproduce, that material being omitted by the OP editors because Spinoza did not reply to it.

193. OP: illustrare et mollire. NS: verklaren en verzachten. Spinoza’s letter said (IV/299/30–31) that he intended to clarify (illustrare) his treatise with notes, but not that he intended to “soften” (mollire) what he had said. Oldenburg is nudging Spinoza in a direction in which he had expressed no intention to go.

194. This paraphrase of II P5 provides an interesting gloss on the phrase esse formale. Gebhardt’s reading of the text (ideae cujuscumque essentia) is correct, though his Textgestaltung misreports both the reading of the autograph and Meijer’s emendation of V-L. Cf. AHW, 537.

195. See above, at IV/302/18–19.

196. According to Remnant and Bennett, lx, Leibniz was sent to Paris on two assignments, both secret: to arrange the payment of a pension granted to Boineburg for diplomatic services to the French crown, and to persuade Louis XIV to direct his forces against the Turks in Egypt rather than against North Germany and the Low Countries. Had he known about these projects, Spinoza would no doubt have approved the latter plan and been indifferent to the former. Wolf suggests that Spinoza had got wind of Leibniz’s plan for a reunion of Catholics and Protestants, “which could only result in their joint suppression of all freedom of thought and speech” (1966, 47). That may exaggerate the danger, but it does seem that such a reunion would have been dangerous for someone like Spinoza.

197. Parentis. Other translators have generally taken parens here to mean either parent or kinsman. But author is one classical meaning of parens, and Spinoza’s subsequent use of the second person singular suggests he might suspect that Schuller himself is the anonymous author.

198. OP, Gebhardt: Responsio ad praecedentem. In the OP (and the NS) the letters are grouped first by correspondent, then by date. In that arrangement our Letter 73 would come immediately after Letter 71.

199. Referring to Paul’s speech to the Athenians, reported in Acts 17:22–31. The line quoted from Paul is itself, in Paul, a quotation from one of the Greek poets (perhaps Epimenides).

200. Spinoza attempts here to ward off a misunderstanding he had also warned against in a note to TTP vi, 10, where the point seemed to be that Nature is not just the extended world, but a being which has infinite attributes. (Spinoza did not use that technical term there.) The OP here reads: massam quandam, sive materiam corporeum. LC has: massam quandam, sive materiam incorporeum, incorporeal matter. Gebhardt thought that reading might be right, but this seems unlikely. The NS confirms the OP reading.

201. OP, LC: non esse omnino necessaria. NS: gantschelijk niet . . . nootzakelijk. Perhaps the most natural rendering of the Latin would be “not completely necessary.” Wolf 1966 and Shirley 1995 have equivalents of this, as do Gebhardt/Walther 1986 and Dominguez 1988. On the other hand, the most natural reading of the Dutch seems to be “completely unnecessary.” AHW have language which I take to agree with my translation, as do Appuhn and Misrahi (Pléiade). So the translators are quite divided about the scope of the negation. The reading I offer seems to me more consistent with TTP v, 46, and Letter 78, IV/328–29. See also the Glossary entry SPIRIT.

202. If we supposed that a circle had acquired the nature of a square, all the while remaining a circle, we would suppose that it had contradictory properties. If it’s a circle, all the points on its periphery must be equidistant from its center. If it’s a square, the points on its periphery are not all equidistant from the center. The theological analogue would be ascribing contradictory properties to God: for example, omniscience insofar as he is God, limited knowledge insofar as he is man; etc. To have said this explicitly in the TTP would evidently have been to cross a line Spinoza chose not to cross.

203. Accepting AHW’s dating.

204. OP: duraque revoluta manu. I think Oldenburg is using a metaphor inspired by the regular motion of the heavenly bodies in their orbits.

205. The first passage, from John 1:14, involves no translation problems. The second, from Heb. 2:16, does. My translation, minus the bracketed phrases, attempts to give a very literal rendering of Oldenburg’s Latin. I add the phrases in brackets to convey what I take to be Oldenburg’s understanding of the passage, which is quite similar to that of the King James translators (“For verily he took not on him the nature of angels, but he took on him the seed of Abraham”), though quite different from more recent English translations, e.g., NRSV: “For it is clear that he did not come to help angels, but the descendants of Abraham.” Though modern translators might render this verse differently than Oldenburg does, his reading of the passage does not seem unreasonable given the surrounding context.

206. In Letter 74 (IV/310/1–11), articulating the negative reaction of Spinoza’s British critics to the TTP, Oldenburg had complained that Spinoza’s necessitarianism entails that no one will be without excuse in the eyes of God—i.e., that all would be excusable—and that this would make reward and punishment useless. Spinoza draws the opposite conclusion: that no one is excusable, appealing to that passage in Paul’s epistle to the Romans (9:18–24) in which Paul asserts God’s absolute right to do with his creatures what he will, as a potter may do as he wishes with the clay he is working. He will explain further in Letter 78. The metaphor has its roots in the Hebrew Bible (most notably in Jer. 18:1–11). See also Spinoza’s discussions of this issue in the TTP (iv, 47–49, and ADN. XXXIV, at xvi, 53).

207. This puzzling saying, which occurs in both Matthew and Luke, has long been the subject of debate. See, for example, Sanders 1993, 225–26; Anchor Matthew and Anchor Luke. I would suppose that Spinoza interprets this saying to mean: “Leave it to those who are (spiritually) dead—that is, who do not appreciate the significance of Jesus’ life and teachings—to bury those who are (physically) dead.”

208. I take it that Spinoza means here that Paul’s account of the resurrection of the dead in 1 Cor. 15 can only be understood to be true if we interpret the resurrection spiritually, as involving a fundamental moral regeneration in this life, but not that Paul himself understood the resurrection in that way.

209. OP, LC: nos homunciones. Using the same language Oldenburg had used at IV/310/23.

210. These may, as Wolf and others have suggested, have included Burgh’s parents, whose grief at their son’s conversion Spinoza mentions at IV/318a/16–18. Conrad Burgh, Albert’s father, was a wealthy Amsterdammer, former Treasurer General of the United Provinces, and a friend of Spinoza’s. Meinsma reports that when Albert returned from Italy, his father had difficulty tolerating his presence in the house, and arranged for various pastors to try to persuade him to return to the Protestant faith, unsuccessfully, as it turned out (Meinsma 1983, 454).

211. Addition from NS and LC.

212. “Enthusiasts” were Christians who believed themselves to be immediately inspired by God. Cf. Locke, Essay IV, xix.

213. Philip II assigned the Duke of Alva to repress the Reformation in the Netherlands in 1567. He did this brutally. See Israel 1995, 155–68, or Parker 1985, 105–17.

214. Spinoza refers to 1 John 4:13, an epistle traditionally ascribed to the author of the fourth gospel, who in turn was traditionally thought to be the apostle John, son of Zebedee. Contemporary scholarship has cast doubt on both these ascriptions. Cf. HCSB 1815, 2072. Spinoza so liked this verse that he made it an epigraph for the TTP and cited it also in TTP xiv, 17.

215. Referring, perhaps, to 1 John 2:3, “By this we may be sure that we know him, if we obey his commandments.” Taken in isolation this verse might seem to require obedience to all the commandments, not just obedience to the commandments to love one another and to be just. But the emphasis on love in this epistle is very strong.

216. Akkerman notes two allusions to Terence in this line: Heautontimorumenos 822 and Adelphi 794.

217. In 1635 Gaspard de Coligny, Count of Chatillon, a Huguenot general in the Franco-Dutch army fighting against the Spanish in Belgium, is said to have fed the Catholic Eucharist to his horses, as an expression of contempt for what he considered Catholic idolatry (AHW).

218. Judah the Faithful was Don Lope de Vera y Alarcon, a Spanish Christian noble, who embraced Judaism after a study of Hebrew literature. He was imprisoned by the Inquisition and burned at the stake in Valladolid in 1644. His story is told in Menasseh 1652/1987, 149–50, the Spanish edition of which Spinoza had in his library. Menasseh cannot have been Spinoza’s only source, since he mentions details not found there, such as Judah’s beginning to sing a hymn as he died. There were many versions of the story. The hymn would have been Ps. 31:6.

219. Ignorance of the history of Islam was common in seventeenth-century Europe. Locke thought all Muslims owed obedience to the Mufti of Constantinople, and through him to the Ottoman Emperor (Locke, Letter 134). Sunni Islam dominated in the Ottoman Empire, the Muslim area then best known in the West. The common practice of using an ethnic term “Turk” to refer to Muslims encouraged this confusion. See Southern 1962, Lewis 1993.

220. OP: pro omnibus, qui Christi nomen profitentur. LC: pro omnibus qui Christianum nomen profitemur (Leibniz’s emphasis), for all of us who profess the Christian name. NS: voor ons alle, die de Christelijke naam belijden. So both the LC and the NS have Spinoza identifying himself as a Christian. Akkerman finds the reading of the OP more probable. See Akkerman 1980, 46–47. Similarly Steenbakkers, who argues that the copyist who produced the version of the text used by both Leibniz and Glazemaker would have been more likely to misread profitentur as profitemur than the reverse. See Steenbakkers 2005, 15–19.

221. OP: exitiabilem (= NS: verderffelijke). LC: execrabilem, abominable.

222. Spinoza is no doubt alluding at least to the notorious forgery known as “the Donation of Constantine,” which was supposed to have granted Pope Sylvester I and his successors ecclesiastical supremacy over all Christian churches, and political authority over the western portions of the Roman Empire. Modern scholarship now estimates that this forgery dates from the eighth century; so it comes somewhat later than Spinoza thought. Nicholas of Cusa had challenged the authenticity of the Donation in 1433 (see Cusa 1991, III, ii), but left it to Lorenzo Valla to provide the definitive proof that it was a forgery in 1440. See Valla 2007. Spinoza may have other examples in mind as well, which probably include the False Decretals of Pseudo-Isidore. See Davenport 1916.

223. The Greek phrase Oldenburg uses as a salutation might be translated: “prosper” or “may things go well with you.”

224. Oldenburg’s point, I take it, is that it is objectionable to limit God’s power to things that men can understand, even if the men whose powers of understanding set the limits are the brightest men. (Spinoza will have some difficulty seeing that he has made the claim Oldenburg objects to [IV/328/5–7].)

225. LC: queri non potest. Both the OP and the NS lack the negation, which is clearly necessary.

226. Bennett notes that Spinoza surely meant to write: “it is no more in our 'power to have a sound Mind than it is to have a healthy Body,” and that this is what Oldenburg takes him to have meant when he replies at IV/329/20ff. Cf. also TP ii, 6.

227. Apparently the suffocation of patients showing symptoms of rabies (using their own sheets, pillows, and blankets) was long practiced as a form of euthanasia, intended to relieve the suffering of those afflicted with a painful disease which was (and still is) almost always fatal once symptoms develop. See Lise Wilkinson’s article on the history of rabies in Jackson and Wunner 2002, or AHW, 511. Spinoza probably thought it also justifiable to prevent spread of the disease. Oldenburg’s reply, confused though it is, suggests that this might be one reason for the practice.

228. Spinoza is evidently alluding to 2 Cor. 5:16, which in a fairly literal translation would read: “So from now on we know no one according to the flesh [kata sarka]. Though (ei) we once knew Christ according to the flesh, we no longer know him in that way.” This is the KJV, lightly modernized. Modern translators of Paul tend to be more free. The NRSV has: “From now on, therefore, we regard no one from a human point of view; even though we once knew Christ from a human point of view, we know him no longer in that way.” Furnish goes further: “So from now on we regard no one according to worldly standards, if indeed we have regarded Christ according to worldly standards, we no longer regard him in that way” (Anchor 2 Corinthians, 306). In addition to the different rendering of kata sarka, this also translates ei as “if,” rather than “though.”

I take it that the tendency to translate kata sarka freely is motivated by the fact that Paul had not known Jesus in person during his lifetime, and so did not know him kata sarka in the most obvious sense. Jesus is supposed to have appeared to him after the resurrection (cf. Acts 9:1–9, 22:1–16, and 26:12–18; and 1 Cor. 15:8), but this post-resurrection appearance would not obviously justify a claim to have known Jesus “according to the flesh,” the resurrection body being of quite a different nature from that of the earthly body (1 Cor. 15:35ff.).

On any of these translations it will be true that Paul does not explicitly claim that he knew Christ kata pneuma, as Spinoza’s paraphrase would require. Nevertheless his paraphrase seems reasonable. I think what he means is that whether or not Paul did, in some sense, know Jesus kata sarka, he did not glory in that fact, but only in the fact that he knew and had absorbed the ethical message Jesus taught.

229. This date is not given either in the OP or in the NS, but can be inferred from Letter 79.

230. C: inexcusabiles, inexcusable. But since Oldenburg is evidently referring to IV/327/10, editors since Leopold have corrected to excusabiles.

231. Another indication that Oldenburg is being a bit careless in this letter. He misreads Spinoza’s example, according to which it was a man who had gone mad from the bite of a dog who would be excusable, but nevertheless rightly killed, not a dog.

232. A classic argument for free will, to be found, for example, in Erasmus 1524.

233. G: maxime. But C, AHW: proxime.

234. See Letter 12, IV/59/10.

235. Pierre Daniel Huet (1630–1721) was appointed assistant tutor to the Dauphin in 1670. He became Bishop of Avranches in 1685 and published two books which criticize the TTP: his Demonstratio, and his Quaestiones.

236. NS: in een Brief, aan L. M. geschreven, in a letter written to L. M.

237. See, for example, Descartes, Principles of Philosophy II, 36, or The World, vi–vii.

238. OP: unicam saltem proprietatem. NS: niet meer dan een enige eigenschap. Pace Wolf and Shirley, if unicam is to be given the sense required by the context, saltem cannot be translated “at least.” I owe this correction of an earlier draft to Bennett.

239. OP: ex . . . Extensione infinitâ corporum varietas exsurgere possit. NS: uit d’uitgestrektheit, een oneindige verscheidenheit van lighamen zou konnen ontslaan. The accent mark on infinitâ in the OP makes it an ablative, modifying Extensione: “from infinite Extension, a variety of bodies can arise.” The NS would be translated: “From Extension, an infinite variety of bodies could arise.” Gebhardt deleted the accent mark in his 1925 edition, but had translated the OP text in Gebhardt/Walther 1986. Translators have been divided: AHW, Wolf, Appuhn, and Misrahi all follow the OP. Shirley and Dominguez follow the NS, Shirley without comment, Dominguez with an argument designed to counter Akkerman’s critique of Gebhardt’s decision. He appeals to Letter 59 (IV/268/25ff.), which indicates that Tschirnhaus was puzzled that so many varieties of body could arise from extension. He doesn’t ask there how infinitely many varieties might arise, but his reference to I P16 suggests that he may have interpreted that proposition as implying that infinitely many kinds of extended thing were supposed to follow from the attribute of extension. The situation is unclear, but my translation assumes that the NS text is correct.

240. Spinoza had about seven months to live at this point.

241. Spinoza here takes as a definition of God a formula he treats as a proposition in the Ethics: I P7 (AHW).

242. Wolf (1966) suggests that Spinoza may be referring to either one of two discoveries which at that time were still recent: Newton’s discovery that a prism resolves a beam of light into colored beams with different indices of refraction, or Bartholinus’ discovery of the double refraction of Iceland spar.

243. For reasons explained in the Editorial Preface, p. 372, I assume that Spinoza’s unnamed friend was probably Jarig Jelles, and thus that this letter was probably written originally in Dutch. So I take the NS version to be probably closer to the original than the OP version—which is not to say that I think it must be a faithful transcription of the original. See Akkerman 1980, 272–73. The marginal page and line numbers are those of the OP translation.

244. The NS reads: wat het uitterste is, dat een Staat kan betrachten, which is what I have translated. The OP reads: quidnam sit extremum, & summum, quod Societas potest considerare, what is the ultimate and highest thing a Society can consider. Akkerman (1980, 272–73) has argued, persuasively in my view, that the NS version summarizes more accurately the actual contents of Ch. v. See particularly TP v, 5.

245. AHW conjecture that this letter was written in the last half of 1676. I would be inclined to put it somewhat earlier, say, in the summer of that year. Jelles says, in his preface to the NS, that Spinoza wrote the Political Treatise “shortly before his death” (Akkerman 1980, 248). But it’s hard to believe that he began a work of that length (87 pages in the Gebhardt edition) very shortly before his death (say, within six months of his death). On the other hand, it seems unlikely that he would have begun work on this treatise before late 1675. In Letter 68, which AHW conjecturally date September or October 1675, he still seems preoccupied with his attempt to publish the Ethics. When he writes Letter 84, he is about halfway through the TP. (There are thirty-four Gebhardt pages in the six chapters before Ch. vii, and thirty-seven in the three-plus chapters which come after it. Ch. vii itself is sixteen Gebhardt pages long.) If we assume that he began work on the TP late in 1675, and was able to continue through late 1676, and perhaps into January 1677, then the probable date of this letter would seem to be sometime in the summer of 1676. By early February 1677 he was very ill (Continuum Companion 2011, 36).

Designs for Stable States

EDITORIAL PREFACE

THE POLITICAL TREATISE (TP) is Spinoza’s last work, begun probably around the end of 1675 or early in 1676, and left unfinished at his death on 21 February 1677.¹ After the Ethics and the TTP, it’s his most substantial work, and deserves careful attention. Primarily concerned with questions about the relative merits of the different forms of government and the best ways of organizing them, it offers us the materials for a much deeper understanding of Spinoza’s political philosophy than we could glean from his other works. He is quite outspoken in his criticism of Christian theology, sharply challenging the doctrine of original sin (ii, 6), while articulating a theory of human nature which acknowledges that there is some truth in that doctrine. His grounds for generally preferring democracy to aristocracy, and aristocracy to monarchy, become much clearer. And perhaps in this work he rejects social contract theory of the TTP,² though that seems to me unclear. If he does reject it, that would be evidence of a significant change in his thought about the foundations of the state. What can’t be disputed is that here Spinoza makes significant appeals to experience and history which need to be taken into account, not only in discussions of his political theory, but in also discussions of his theory of knowledge.³

THE BENEFITS OF COMMUNITY

The central thesis of Spinoza’s moral and political philosophy is that nothing is more useful to us than living in a community with other people, and binding ourselves to our fellow citizens by such ties as are most apt “to make us one people” (E IV App. §12). The TTP enumerated the advantages we can gain from such associations: they give us the security without which our enjoyment of any other good is at best precarious; and they make possible a division of labor which not only provides us with the means to subsist, but also frees us to cultivate the arts and sciences. The more we advance in the arts and sciences, the better we understand the world around us, both natural and social. The better we understand that world, the closer we come to the knowledge and love of God. So living in a community with others is essential to bringing us closer to our greatest good.

The prospective benefits of community, then, are immense. But the path to these goods is not easy. We are not very rational. Much of the time we don’t know what it would be good for us to do; when we do know, much of the time we don’t do what we know we should. In the Ethics Spinoza had quoted Ovid’s Medea:

A strange power draws me on against my will. Desire persuades me one way, reason another. I see the better and approve it, but I follow the worse.⁴

He might have quoted Paul:

I do not understand my own actions. . . . For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do. (Romans 7:15, 19)

Paul seems here to take himself as representative of sinful humanity:

All, both Jews and Greeks, are under the power of sin. . . . There is no one who is righteous, not even one.⁵

Spinoza’s version of this will say:

it’s not possible for anyone to always use reason and to consistently be at the height of human freedom. (TP ii, 8)

But this allows that some people—not many, but some—act rationally, and hence are virtuous, most of the time, and that more could act rationally than do. Virtue may be extremely rare, but it does exist (TTP xii, 7; TP vi, 6).

Trying to develop strategies an individual might use to overcome his bondage to the passions was the main project of the later parts of the Ethics. In the Political Treatise Spinoza treats this problem as a political one. Many of our passions stand in the way of the communities and collective action we can see that we need (TP i, 5). Though we may pity the less fortunate among us, and acknowledge a religious duty to help them, the teachings of religion often give way when they seem to conflict with self-interest. We find reasons to think that the poor have brought their poverty on themselves, and that it is better to leave them to their own devices than to help. Everyone wants others to live as he thinks they should live, approving what he approves, and rejecting what he rejects. Everyone wants to be first, even at great cost to others. These are all obstacles to community.

If we had to rely on reason to get us to do what in our own interest we ought to do, we would be in trouble. Fortunately, some of our passions have a more positive effect, moving us to form communities and make the accommodations necessary if we are to live in a community. When a group of people agree to be led “as if by one mind,” they generally do this because some affect leads them to cooperate: they have a common hope, or a common fear, or perhaps a common desire for vengeance (iii, 9). Most of all, they fear being alone, because they know they can’t defend themselves alone, or provide for their other needs alone (ii, 15; vi, 1). So they agree to be led “as if by one mind.”

A SOCIAL CONTRACT THEORY?

If a social contract is just an agreement—possibly explicit, but also possibly tacit—which men make with one another to adopt rules of cooperation for their mutual advantage,⁶ then in the Political Treatise Spinoza remains the contract theorist he was in the Theological-Political Treatise. If a social contract requires more than that—say, an explicit promise which is morally binding, or motivation by a rational calculation of the benefits of joint action—then he was not a social contract theorist even in the TTP. For even in that earlier work Spinoza did not claim that there was anything inherently binding about having made a promise. A contract is a mutual promise, and promises “can have no force except by reason of [their] utility” (TTP xvi, 20). When they seem to lose their utility, they lose their force. And even in that earlier work he did not think the decision to enter into a contract was necessarily to be explained by the rationality of the agreement for the contracting parties (TTP xvi, 7). It might well be eminently rational to enter into the agreement; if we judge that it is, we endorse the agreement. But it does not follow that it’s not some passion or passions, rather than reason, which actually explains the agreement. Spinoza does not seem to have changed his mind on these points when he wrote the TP. He may have merely changed the way he expressed himself, in order to avoid misunderstanding. It’s a notable fact about the Political Treatise that the language of contract is much less prominent there than it was in the Theological-Political Treatise. Less prominent, but not absent.

BEING LED “AS IF BY ONE MIND”

What tends to replace the language of contract is the idea that people agree to be led “as if by one mind.” What does it mean to say that a group of people is led in this way? Clearly, not that they are actually led by one mind, that there is literally one mind directing their affairs. Spinoza dislikes monarchy, or any other form of autocratic government, whatever its name. In one passage (iii, 7) he identifies being led “as if by one mind” with a “union of minds,” by which he seems to mean a commonality of purpose, an agreement at least about the basic ends of the union and the principal means of attaining them.⁷ In one place he maintains that such a union is required in a state, and that it can only be achieved if the state is predominantly guided by what sound reason tells us is useful to all men (ii, 21). His primary goal in the TP is to design a variety of constitutional arrangements which will achieve that end, or come as near doing so as possible, given the historical circumstances of the state in question.

Spinoza does not think there is just one way of designing the state which will work equally well in all situations. In the TTP he had expressed his preference for democracy as the most natural form of government, which best preserves the freedom and equality of the state of nature (xvi, 36). In the TP, even though it comes to an end before Spinoza has managed to say much about democracy, it’s still clear that it’s his preferred form of government. But like Machiavelli, whose political wisdom he greatly admires, he understands that the history of the state matters. If a people is used to living under a king, it will be hard to establish a republican form of government among them.⁸ If they’re used to living under a republican form of government, establishing autocratic rule will be difficult.⁹ The history of the state for which we’re prescribing a constitution limits the kinds of constitution which might work in it.

So Spinoza prescribes different kinds of constitution for different kinds of situation. The bulk of the TP, and what’s newest in it, by comparison with his previous work, is a detailed attempt to set out model constitutions for each of the three main forms of government: monarchy, aristocracy, and democracy. It’s disappointing that Spinoza’s work breaks off just as he’s beginning to propose a model constitution for the kind of state most apt to interest us. But there’s much to be grateful for in what he’s left us. Though he did not live long enough to lay out a model constitution for democracy, what he says about the other forms of government provides important insights into what he thinks their defects are, and why he advocates popular government where possible.

ON MONARCHY AS THE LEAST DESIRABLE FORM OF GOVERNMENT

In certain historical circumstances monarchy may be the best solution to the problem of government. But Spinoza has little good to say about it. Its defenders argue, and experience may seem to show, that it’s conducive to peace and harmony to confer all power on one man. “No state has stood so long without notable change as that of the Turks.”¹⁰ Still, he says, “if slavery, barbarism, and being without protection are to be called peace, nothing is more wretched for men than peace.” Autocratic rule, which does not require extended discussion to reach a decision, may seem more efficient than forms of government which require deliberation by a council. Spinoza quotes an ancient proverb: “While the Romans deliberate, Saguntum is lost,” referring to the loss of a city in Spain to the Carthaginians in the First Punic War, traditionally attributed to the indecision of the Roman Senate. But he thinks this supposed advantage is illusory. Good decision-making requires consultation and discussion:

when the few decide everything, simply on the basis of their own affects, freedom and the common good are lost. For human wits are too sluggish to penetrate everything right away. But by asking advice, listening, and arguing, they’re sharpened. When people try all means, in the end they find ways to the things they want which everyone approves, and no one had ever thought of before. (ix, 14)

The NS will add: “We’ve seen many examples of this in Holland.” With the addition, this passage unites two important themes in Spinoza’s political thought: the importance of discussion, and the importance of knowing our history.

The idea that one man alone can rule a state is an illusion (vi, 5). One man alone cannot know everything he needs to know about the conditions in his kingdom which require attention. He will need a council of advisors to tell him what’s going on and suggest ways of dealing with the problems. And one man alone cannot see that all his decrees are enforced. As Hobbes emphasized in chapter 13 of Leviathan, the natural equality of men in their mental and physical faculties—the absence of decisive differences of power between them—makes it impossible for even the strongest and smartest man to establish a stable relation of domination over his fellows. The king cannot rule by fear of his personal power alone,¹¹ but will require an enforcement cadre, a group of people willing to obey without coercion his commands to force obedience on those not willing to obey without coercion, and large enough to be broadly successful in doing that. The need for an enforcement cadre puts de facto limits on his power. Being an enforcer can be a hazardous duty—more hazardous as popular resistance is greater—and even people who are generally willing to obey enforcement commands may hesitate to do some of the things they are told to do.

What’s more, one man, seeking to rule alone, must fear his subjects.¹² He depends on his soldiers, not only for the enforcement of his commands, but also for his personal protection. Spinoza likes to cite a story from Tacitus, relating how Otho was able to displace Galba as emperor by suborning two members of his bodyguard.¹³ So what may appear to be the rule of one man is always, in fact, the rule of at least a few, pretending to be the rule of one (vi, 5).

Spinoza’s remedy is to acknowledge the de facto situation by setting up a complex system of councils with legal rights which place formal limits on the powers of the king, creating what we would now call a constitutional monarchy. Simplifying considerably, there is to be a large, termlimited council, which can inform the king about conditions in his kingdom and give him advice about what needs to be done. Although the king makes the final decision, he is limited in his choices to the options the council offers him. A smaller council, selected from the large one, administers the policies the king has decided on. Yet another council, made up of jurists, administers justice. As a further protection against royal abuses of power, the army must consist only of citizens (vii, 17). There is to be no reliance on foreign mercenaries.¹⁴

ON ARISTOCRACY AS A BETTER FORM OF GOVERNMENT

In view of the care with which Spinoza built institutional limits on the power of the king into his model constitution for a monarchy, it comes as a surprise to find, in Chapter 8, that for aristocracies he favors a government whose power is as absolute as possible, on the ground, it seems, that the more absolute a government is, the better it is, and the more suitable for preserving freedom (viii, 7). His constitution for an aristocracy¹⁵ calls for government by a large Supreme Council, drawn from an even larger patrician class. In a state of moderate size Spinoza thinks that the Supreme Council needs to have at least five thousand members, that number being necessary to yield at least a hundred members who have outstanding ability and are capable of providing the Council with leadership. (It’s clear that he does not have high expectations for the ability of his patricians.)

There are no institutional checks on the Supreme Council’s power to make and repeal laws, appoint public servants, or choose those who will succeed to membership in the Council. What check there is on their power is just another council, called the Council of Syndics, drawn from the patricians, and serving for life, which oversees its actions, to make sure that the laws the Supreme Council has enacted are obeyed by the officers it appoints to implement them. So the Council of Syndics has only oversight powers. Spinoza also calls for a second subordinate council, drawn from the patrician class, and called “the Senate,” which has executive powers, including the power to declare war and peace (but subject to the approval of the Supreme Council). So the formal powers of the Supreme Council are very great, but not unlimited.

Spinoza’s statements about the powers of his model aristocracy can be confusing. In viii, 3, he says that rule by “a sufficiently large council is absolute, or comes nearest to being absolute” (my emphasis). This seems to mean that it comes as close to being absolute as possible, without actually being absolute. In the next paragraph he says that because the rule in an aristocracy of this kind never “returns to the multitude”—as it does in a monarchy, when the king dies (vii, 25)—and because there is “no consultation with the multitude in it . . . we must in every respect regard this aristocracy as absolute” (my emphasis.) I take this to mean: this may be how we must think of it, but it is not, strictly speaking, how it is. At the end of viii, 3, he had said, conditionally, that “if there’s any absolute rule, it’s really the rule which occurs when the whole multitude rules” (my emphasis). Later, introducing his discussion of democracy in Chapter 11, he drops the condition: “I come, finally, to the third, and completely absolute state, which we call Democratic” (xi, 1). So there is such a thing as absolute rule, but it’s not aristocratic (much less monarchic); it’s democratic.

This is apt to puzzle a twenty-first-century reader, who tends to associate absolutism with monarchy, and to think it’s a bad thing. But Spinoza wants to turn these normal assumptions on their head. His position is that, contrary to what we might unreflectively think, monarchy is inherently the least absolute form of government. Whatever formal powers the constitution may give the king, the possibility of discontent among his subjects, and the consequent threat of a coup or a rebellion, limits those powers. The more the power of the state is theoretically concentrated in one or a few men, the fewer the men it takes to overthrow the government. The constitution of a monarchy (or a small aristocracy) may permit the king (or the aristocratic council) to do things which the practicalities of politics do not allow. An “absolute” monarch will not have to stand for reelection; but in deciding what he can do without jeopardizing his rule, he must still take into account the distribution of power in his state and the views of his subjects about their interests. The same would be true of an aristocracy in which power is concentrated in the hands of a small number of aristocrats.

In a large aristocracy, Spinoza thinks, these constraints are a much smaller problem than they are in a monarchy or a small aristocracy. A large aristocracy is better able to defend itself against a coup or a popular uprising and maintain the rule of law. That is, it is better able to maintain a situation in which the government is able to enforce rules governing the cooperation of the citizens, which it has arrived at by a procedure the citizens generally support. But even the power of a large aristocracy can never be completely absolute; the best it can do is to approach that condition. Even a large aristocracy must consider the people’s reaction to its policies, and the possibility that they will rebel against the policies the government has approved. What Spinoza seems to mean, when he compares the different degrees of absoluteness in the different forms of government, is that a government will be more absolute the less its decisions are liable to be overruled or checked by some other body, whether that body is one to which the constitution has given a well-defined legal status, or simply an undisciplined multitude.

ON DEMOCRACY AS THE BEST FORM OF GOVERNMENT

By this logic, the most absolute form of government should be a democracy, understood as that form of government in which a council made up of the whole citizenry rules.¹⁶ In a democracy everybody is part of the decision-making process, and there is no one on the outside, threatening to overturn the results if they don’t like them. In a democracy, as Spinoza seems to conceive it, collective decisions are made by an orderly deliberative process, which the people as a whole accept and participate in. If good decision-making requires broadly based discussion, conducted in an orderly way, then a democracy has the least reason to fear a coup or popular rebellion, not merely because there it’s the people themselves who rule, who are eligible to vote in the supreme council and to hold public office, but because everyone has had an opportunity to shape the final result, and has some grasp of the considerations which can be brought for and against a given policy. Accordingly, Spinoza characterizes democracy as the only completely absolute form of government.

This will surprise readers of the TTP, who may object that this way of thinking about democracy is much more optimistic about the wisdom of the common people than Spinoza seems to be in that work. In my translation the phrase “the common people” generally translates vulgus, and seems, typically, to have very negative connotations. At a minimum, the vulgus are not distinguished by great intelligence, learning, or moral excellence. Sometimes the negative connotations are stronger than that. The vulgus are ignorant, stupid, prejudiced, superstitious, governed more by their passions than by reason, easily swayed by rhetoric, stubborn, prone to interpret perversely what they read, hostile to philosophy and scientific inquiry, and given to wonder. How can we expect people like that to reach intelligent decisions, or even contribute anything intelligent to a discussion in which they’re participating?

But this characterization of the vulgus is drawn largely from the TTP. That term rarely occurs in the TP, where it tends to be replaced by terms like multitudo (multitude, in my translation), or plebs (ordinary people, or plebeians), or populus (people), whose connotations generally don’t seem to be nearly so negative. In fact, the only passage in the TP in which vulgus occurs (vii, 27) is one in which Spinoza defends the vulgus against the kinds of aspersion cast on them by the Roman historians who exercised such a strong influence on his political thinking! The common people have their faults, Spinoza admits, the same faults the classical historians accused them of. But those faults aren’t peculiar to any particular social class. They are faults common to humanity as a whole. And to some extent they can be remedied if the government shares with the people the information on which it bases its decisions.

The more serious problem with the line of thinking I have so far pursued is that it seems to assume an understanding of democracy which Spinoza in the end rejects. From everything I’ve said so far, we might suppose that he makes the distinction between the different forms of government in a pretty traditional way: monarchy is rule by one; aristocracy, rule by a relative few; and democracy rule by the many. Early in the TP that seemed to be the contrast he had in mind. There he wrote that if the responsibility for public affairs

is the business of a Council made up of the common multitude, then the State is called a Democracy; if the council is made up only of certain select people, it’s called an Aristocracy; and finally, if the responsibility for Public Affairs, and hence sovereignty, is vested in one person, it’s called a Monarchy. (ii, 17)

But later in the TP he makes the distinction between aristocracy and democracy differently. In TP viii, 1, and xi, 1–2, it appears that a democracy is a form of government in which eligibility for the governing body is a matter of legal right, not of choices made by the existing members of that body. Aristocracy is a form of government in which membership in the ruling council is determined, not by law, but by the choice of the members of the existing body.

Now Spinoza never says who is supposed to make the laws which define the criteria determining who is eligible for the governing body in a democracy. This seems to me a serious, and perhaps irremediable, flaw in his argument. He does suggest a number of different criteria the law might in principle prescribe: being born to citizens, or being born on the country’s soil, or having served the republic well, etc. The law might make the criteria for managing the business of the state very inclusive or it might make them very exclusive. It might allow only older men who have reached a certain age to have a share in ruling, or eldest sons as soon as they reach the age of majority, or people who have paid a certain sum of money to the state, and so on. Depending on the criteria by which citizens acquire this right, it might be enjoyed by many or by only a few. If only a few have it, the choices made in an aristocracy might result in a much larger governing body than the one you might expect from the operation of the laws in a democracy.

Spinoza is aware of this possible consequence and accepts it:

The result of such a law could be that the supreme Council [in a Democracy] is composed of fewer citizens than the Council of an Aristocratic state of the kinds we’ve discussed. (xi, 2)

He sees that this feature of democracy may make it seem inferior to an aristocracy, but he replies that it won’t be, because he thinks the choices aristocrats would make, when they add members to their council, will generally favor the rich, or their relatives, or their friends, or some other group of people not chosen on the basis of merit. He thinks history has shown this, and he may well be right about that, though his defense of democracy would be more persuasive if we knew that the criterion for rule in a democracy was one which did favor people of merit.

That, however, is a question he deliberately leaves open:

We can conceive different kinds of Democratic state. I don’t plan to discuss each one, but only one in which absolutely everyone who is bound only by the laws of his native land, and who is, furthermore, his own master and lives honorably, has the right to vote in the supreme Council and to stand for political offices. (xi, 3)

This will exclude resident aliens (arguably reasonable enough), and also, it seems, criminals and people who have disgraced themselves (xi, 1, 3). Without knowing more about these stipulations—do we make distinctions between different kinds of crime, treating some as more disqualifying than others? who defines what constitutes a disqualifying disgrace and determines that someone’s conduct has fallen afoul of that rule?—it’s hard to know how reasonable these exclusions are. The condition that someone must be his own master evidently excludes servants (quaint in our more democratic times), children and students (arguably reasonable, if they are below a certain age), and of course, women (a great embarrassment, nowadays, to most of those who would otherwise think of Spinoza as a wise and good man).

I do not propose to discuss any further the merits of these exclusions. I will simply close by pointing out that the more groups a democracy excludes from eligibility for its governing body, the smaller its base of support is. If the size of the governing body and the class of people from whom it is drawn is supposed to give it more protection from coups or popular rebellions than the governing body in an aristocracy would have, and if this is the key to its being the most absolute form of government, and if being absolute is such a desirable feature in a form of government, then having a smaller governing body would deprive democracy of its chief advantage over aristocracy. Perhaps Spinoza would have found good answers to the questions his political philosophy raises, if he had lived long enough to work them out. But it is difficult to see what they would have been.

1. See Letter 84, the annotation there, and Continuum Companion 2011, 36.

2. For arguments in favor of this view, see Wernham, or Matheron 1969, 1990.

3. On experience, see i, 2, 3; ii, 6; vii, 30; xi, 2. On history: vii, 14, 18, 24.

4. Ovid, Metamorphoses VII, 19–21, LCL translation. Spinoza quotes part of this passage in E IV P17S.

5. Rom. 3:9–10. The interpretation of Paul is controversial, and some recent interpreters would emphasize passages which make him sound less pessimistic about the human capacity to do good than he does here. See, for example, Sanders 2001 or Wills 2007. Both these works are popularizations, of course, but popularizations by highly respected scholars, who represent a significant trend in New Testament scholarship. I’ve discussed the issues in Curley 2015b. See also the annotation of TP ii, 8.

6. On a certain view of the matter, Hume was a critic of social contract theory when he wrote in his Treatise of Human Nature: “Two men who pull the oars of a boat, do it by an agreement or convention, though they have never given promises to each other. Nor is the rule concerning the stability of possession the less derived from human conventions, that it arises gradually, and acquires force by a slow progression, and by our repeated experience of the inconveniences of transgressing it. On the contrary, this experience assures us still more, that the sense of interest has become common to all our fellows, and gives us a confidence of the future regularity of their conduct; and it is only on the expectation of this, that our moderation and abstinence are founded” (III, ii, 2). But the better view, I think, is that he exemplifies a different, evolutionary form of social contract theory, not open to the same objections as the more rationalistic tradition. For the contrast, see Skyrms 1996.

7. Cf. vi, 4, where he writes that “peace does not consist in the privation of war, but in a union or harmony of minds.”

8. In the TTP Spinoza used the example of England to make this point. Cf. xviii, 28–37, and Machiavelli, Discourses i, 16, and iii, 3. For Spinoza’s appreciation of Machiavelli, see TP v, 7.

9. Machiavelli, The Prince v.

10. TP vi, 4. “The Turks” refers to the Ottoman Empire, which in Spinoza’s day was at the height of its power, and could easily seem a great success.

11. See vii, 12. This may not quite be true. Greg Kavka has argued (against Hume and others) that a regime in which the ruler is never obeyed except out of fear of punishment is theoretically possible. But he concedes that such a tyranny is likely to be quite unstable, and that real-world rulers have generally recognized this. (See Kavka 1986, 254–66.)

12. TP vii, 11. In vii, 14, Spinoza will quote (somewhat freely) an aphorism of Pérez: “The exercise of absolute power is very dangerous for kings, very hateful to their vassals, very offensive to God and to nature, as a thousand examples show” (Pérez 1644, 287). The thought also appears in TTP xvii, 8.

13. See Tacitus, Histories I, xxv, cited in TP vii, 14, and in the TTP ADN. XXXV, at xvii, 3.

14. This is a lesson Spinoza probably learned from Machiavelli. See, for example, the condemnation of mercenary troops as either worthless or dangerous, in chs. xii–xiii of The Prince.

15. To be more precise, Spinoza considers two different kinds of aristocracy: one in which the patricians are citizens of one city, which is the capital of the whole state (the models here are Rome, Venice, and Genoa), and one in which they are citizens of several cities, none of which is preeminent (the model being the Dutch Republic). Because the two kinds of aristocracy have different problems, Spinoza devotes separate chapters to each (chs. viii and ix). But the differences are not relevant to the points I wish to make, so I’ll ignore them.

16. On the themes of this section, see the essays by Antonio Negri and Alexandre Matheron, in Montag and Stolze 1997.

[III/273] Political Treatise

DEMONSTRATING HOW A STATE¹ MUST BE SET UP,
WHEN THE GOVERNMENT IS MONARCHIC,
OR WHEN AN ELITE RULE,
SO THAT IT DOESN’T DECLINE INTO A TYRANNY
AND THE PEACE AND SECURITY² OF THE CITIZENS
ARE PRESERVED³

CHAPTER I

[Introduction]⁴

1. Philosophers conceive the affects by which we’re torn as vices, which [5] men fall into by their own fault. That’s why they usually laugh at them, weep over them, censure them, or (if they want to seem particularly holy) curse them. They believe they perform a godly act and reach the pinnacle of wisdom when they’ve learned how to praise in many ways a human [10] nature which doesn’t exist anywhere, and how to bewail the way men really are. They conceive men not as they are, but as they want them to be. That’s why for the most part they’ve written Satire instead of Ethics, and why they’ve never conceived a Politics which could be put to any [15] practical application, but only one which would be thought a Fantasy, possible only in Utopia, or in the golden age of the Poets, where there’d be absolutely no need for it.⁵ In all the sciences which have a practical application, Theory is believed to be out of harmony with Practice. But this is especially true in Politics. No men are thought less suitable to [25] guide Public Affairs than Theorists, or Philosophers.

2. By contrast, Political Practitioners are thought more inclined to set traps for men than to look after their interests. They’re judged to be shrewd rather than wise. Experience, of course, has taught them [III/274] that as long as there are men, there will be vices.⁶ So they try to anticipate men’s wickedness, using the arts experience and long practice have taught them, arts men usually practice more from fear than because they’re guided by reason. In this way they seem to be opposed to Religion—especially to the Theologians, who believe the supreme [5] 'powers ought to treat the public business by the same rules of Piety private men are bound by.⁷ Still, there can’t be any doubt that Political Practitioners have written much more successfully about Political affairs than Philosophers have. Since they’ve had experience as their teacher, they’ve taught nothing remote from practice.

[10] 3. I am fully persuaded that experience has shown all the kinds of State which might conceivably enable men to live in harmony, as well as the means by which a multitude ought to be directed, or restrained within definite limits.⁸ So I don’t believe reflection on this subject can come up with anything not completely at variance with experience, or [15] practice, which hasn’t yet been learned and tested by experience. Men are so constituted that they can’t live without some common law. But the men who’ve discussed and established the common laws and public affairs were very acute (whether cunning or shrewd). So it’s hardly credible that we can conceive anything potentially useful for Society as [20] a whole which circumstances, or chance, haven’t suggested, and which men—keenly attentive to their common affairs and looking after their own security—have not seen.⁹

4. So when I applied my mind to Politics, I didn’t intend to advance anything new or unheard of, but only to demonstrate the things which [25] agree best with practice, in a certain and indubitable way, and¹⁰ to deduce them from the condition of human nature. To investigate the matters pertaining to this science with the same freedom of spirit we’re accustomed to use in investigating Mathematical subjects, I took great pains not to laugh at human actions, or mourn them, or curse them, [30] but only to understand them. So I’ve contemplated human affects—like love, hate, anger, envy, love of esteem, compassion, and the other emotions—not as vices of human nature, but as properties which pertain to it in the same way heat, cold, storms, thunder, etc., pertain to the nature of the air. Though these things are inconvenient, they’re still necessary, and have definite causes, through which we strive to understand their [III/275] nature.¹¹ The Mind rejoices in contemplating them truly just as much as it does in knowing things pleasing to the senses.

5. For these things are certain (and we’ve demonstrated them in our Ethics): men are necessarily subject to affects [E IV P4C];¹² they’re so [5] constituted that they pity those whose affairs are going badly, and envy those who are prospering [E III P32S]; they’re more inclined to vengeance than to mercy [E IV App. xiii]; moreover, everyone wants others to live according to his mentality [E V P4S], so that they approve what he approves, and reject what he rejects [E III P31C]. Since everyone [10] wants to be first, they fall into quarrels and try as hard as they can to crush each other. Whoever turns out to be the winner prides himself more on harming the loser than on doing good for himself [E IV P58S]. Though everyone is persuaded that Religion teaches each person to love his neighbor as himself—i.e., that he should defend his neighbor’s right as [15] he would his own—still, we’ve shown that this persuasion has little power against the affects [E IV P15]. It’s strong, of course, at the point of death, when illness has conquered the affects and the man lies wasting away. It’s strong also in houses of worship, where men conduct no business. But it has no weight in the marketplace or the court, where we need it most.

[20] Moreover, though we’ve shown that reason can do much to restrain and moderate the affects [E V P1–P10S], we’ve also seen that the path reason teaches us to follow is very difficult [E V P42S]. So people who persuade themselves that a multitude, which may be divided over public affairs, can be induced to live only according to the prescription of reason, those people are dreaming of the golden age of the Poets. [25] They’re captive to a myth.

6. So, a state whose well-being depends on someone’s good faith, and whose affairs can’t be properly looked after unless the people who handle them are willing to act in good faith, won’t be stable at all. For it to be able to last, its affairs must be so ordered that, whether the [30] people who administer them are led by reason or by an affect, they can’t be induced to be disloyal or¹³ to act badly. It doesn’t make any difference to the security of the state in what spirit men are led to administer matters properly, provided they do administer them properly. For freedom of mind, or strength of character, is a private virtue. But the virtue of the state is security.¹⁴

7. Finally, because all men everywhere, whether Barbarians or civilized, [III/276] combine their practices and form some sort of civil order, we must seek the causes¹⁵ and natural foundations of the state, not from the teachings of reason, but from the common nature, or condition, of men,¹⁶ which I’ve decided to do in the following chapter.¹⁷

[III/276] CHAPTER II

[On Natural Right]¹

1. In our Theological-Political Treatise we treated both Natural Right and Civil Right, and in our Ethics we explained what sin, merit, justice, injustice, and finally, human freedom are.² But so that the readers of this treatise won’t need to look elsewhere for the things which most [10] concern it, I’ve resolved to explain them again here, and to demonstrate them rigorously.³

2. Any natural thing whatever can be conceived adequately, whether it exists or not.⁴ So just as the beginning of a natural thing’s existence [15] can’t be inferred from its definition, neither can its perseverance in existing. For the ideal essence of these things is the same after they’ve begun to exist as it was before. So as their beginning to exist can’t follow from their essence, neither can their perseverance in existing. [20] The same power they require to begin to exist, they also require to continue to exist. From this it follows that the power by which natural things exist, and so by which they have effects, can’t be anything but the eternal power of God itself.⁵ For if it were any other created power, it couldn’t preserve itself, and so couldn’t preserve natural things. The [25] same power it would require to be created, it would also require to persevere in existing.

3. From this fact—that the power of natural things, by which they exist and have effects, is the very power of God—we easily understand what the Right of nature is. For since God has the right over all things, [30] and God’s right is nothing but his power itself, insofar as [his power] is considered to be absolutely free, it follows that each natural thing has as much right by nature as it has power to exist and have effects. For [III/277] the power of each natural thing, by which it exists and has effects, is nothing but the very power of God, which is absolutely free.

4. By the Right of nature, then, I understand the laws of nature themselves, or the rules according to which all things happen, i.e., the very power [5] of nature.⁶ So the natural Right of the whole of nature, and as a result, of each individual, extends as far as its power does. Hence, whatever each man does according to the laws of his nature, he does with the supreme right of nature. He has as much right over nature as he has power.⁷

5. Therefore, if human nature were so constituted that men lived [10] only according to the prescription of reason, and did not strive for anything else, the Right of nature, insofar as it is considered a peculiar property of the human race, would be determined only by the power of reason. But men are led more by blind desire than by reason.⁸ So [15] the natural power, or Right, of men ought to be defined not by reason, but by whatever appetite determines them to act and to strive to preserve themselves.

For my part I admit that the desires which don’t arise from reason are not so much human actions as passions.⁹ But because we’re dealing [20] here with the universal power or Right of nature, we can recognize no difference here between the desires generated in us by reason and those generated by other causes. Both kinds of desire are effects of nature and display the natural force by which man strives to persevere in his being.¹⁰ Whether a man is wise or ignorant, he’s a part of nature, and whatever determines him to act must be referred to the power of [25] nature, insofar as it can be defined by the nature of this or that man.¹¹ Whether a man is led by reason or only by desire, he does nothing except according to the laws and rules of nature, i.e. (by §4), in accordance [30] with the right of nature.

6. Most people, though, believe that the ignorant disturb the order of nature rather than follow it, and they conceive men in nature as a dominion within a dominion.¹² For they maintain that the human Mind was not produced by any natural causes, but was created immediately by God, so independent of other things that it has an absolute 'power [III/278] to determine itself and to use reason properly. But experience teaches all too well that it’s no more in our 'power to have a sound Mind than it is to have a sound Body.¹³

Again, since each thing, as far as it can, strives to preserve its being, [5] we can’t doubt that if it were as much in our 'power to live according to the prescription of reason as it is to be led by blind desire, everyone would be led by reason and organize his life wisely. But this is far from true. Everyone is carried away by his own pleasure.¹⁴

The Theologians¹⁵ don’t remove this difficulty when they claim that [10] the cause of this weakness is a vice of human nature, or a sin, which had its origin in the fall of our first ancestor.¹⁶ For if it was indeed in the 'power of the first man either to stand firm or to fall, and if he was in possession of his faculties and unimpaired in his nature, how could it have happened that he fell, knowingly, and with eyes open?

[15] They say he was deceived by the Devil. But who deceived the Devil? Who, I ask, made that most excellent of all intelligent creatures so insane that he wanted to be greater than God? Wasn’t he striving, as far as was in his power, to preserve himself (who had a sound Mind) and his being?¹⁷

[20] Again, how could it have happened that the very first man, who was of sound mind and the master of his will, was seduced and underwent the loss of his mental faculties? If he had the 'power to use reason correctly, he could not be deceived. He necessarily strove, as far as he could, to preserve his being and keep his Mind sound. But it’s supposed [25] that he had this in his 'power. So he must have kept his Mind sound and could not be deceived. The story of [the first man] shows that this is false. So it must be acknowledged that it wasn’t in the first man’s 'power to use reason correctly. Like us, he was subject to affects.

7. Moreover, no one can deny that man, like all other individuals, [30] strives, as far as he can, to preserve his being. If some difference could be conceived here, it would have to arise from the fact that man has free will. But the more we conceive man to be free, the more we are forced to maintain that he must necessarily preserve himself and be in [III/279] possession of his faculties. Anyone who doesn’t confuse freedom with contingency will easily grant me this.¹⁸ For freedom is a virtue, or perfection. So whatever convicts man of weakness can’t be related to his freedom. A man can’t be called free on the grounds that he can not [5] exist, or that he can not use reason; only insofar as he has the 'power to exist and have effects, according to the laws of human nature, can he be called free. So the more we consider a man to be free, the less can we say that he can fail to use reason and choose evils in preference to goods.

That’s why God, who exists, understands, and has effects, all with [10] absolute freedom, also exists, understands, and has effects necessarily, i.e., from the necessity of his own nature.¹⁹ For there’s no doubt that God has effects with the same freedom with which he exists. Therefore, as he exists in accordance with the necessity of his nature, so also he acts in accordance with the necessity of his nature. I.e., he acts absolutely freely.

8. We conclude, then, that it’s not in anyone’s 'power to always use [15] reason and be at the highest peak of human freedom²⁰—but that nevertheless everyone always strives, so far as he can, to preserve his being.

We also conclude that (because everyone has as much right as he has power) what each man strives for and does, whether he is wise or foolish, he strives for and does by the supreme right of nature. From [20] these considerations, it follows that the Right and established practice of nature, under which all men are born and for the most part live, prohibits nothing except what no one desires and no one can do; it does not prohibit disputes, or hatreds, or anger, or deceptions, and it is absolutely not averse to anything appetite urges.

[25] This is not surprising. For nature is not restrained by the laws of human reason [alone], which aim only at men’s true advantage and preservation, but [also] by infinitely many other [laws],²¹ which are concerned with the eternal order of the whole of nature, of which man is a small part. It’s only in accordance with the necessity of this eternal order that all individuals are determined to exist and produce effects in [30] a definite way. So whenever something in nature seems to us ridiculous, absurd, or evil, that comes from the fact that we know things only in part, and are for the most part ignorant of the order and coherence of the whole of nature, and that we want everything to be directed in accordance with what our reason prescribes, even though what reason [35] says is evil is not evil in relation to the order and laws of nature as a whole, but only in relation to the laws of our nature.²²

[III/280] 9. Moreover, it follows that each person is subject to someone else’s control so long as he is under the other person’s 'power, and that he is his own master so long as he can fend off every force and avenge an injury done to him, as seems good to him, and absolutely, insofar [5] as he can live according to his own mentality.

10. One person has another in his 'power [a] if he has him tied up, or [b] if he has taken away his arms and means of defending himself or escaping, or [c] if he has instilled fear in him, or [d] if he has so bound him to himself by a benefit that the other person would rather conduct himself according to his benefactor’s wishes than according to his own, and wants to live according to his benefactor’s opinion, not [10] according to his own. Someone who has another person in his 'power in the first or second of these ways possesses only his Body, not his Mind. If he has him in his 'power in the third or fourth way, then he has made both his Mind and his Body subject to his control—but only while the fear or hope lasts. When either of these is taken away, the other person remains his own master.²³

[15] 11. A person’s faculty of judging can also be subject to someone else’s control insofar as the other person can deceive him. From this it follows that a Mind is completely its own master just to the extent that it can use reason rightly.²⁴ Indeed, because we ought to reckon human power not so much by the strength of the Body as by the strength [20] of the Mind, it follows that people are most their own masters when they can exert the most power with their reason, and are most guided by reason. So I call a man completely free just insofar as he is guided by reason, because to that extent he is determined to action by causes which can be understood adequately through his own nature alone, [25] even though they determine him to act necessarily. For (as shown in §7), freedom does not take away the necessity of acting. It assumes it.

12. An assurance given to someone by which someone has promised only in words that he will do something he could legitimately omit doing, or conversely [i.e., an assurance given where someone has promised not to do something he could legitimately do], remains valid just as long as the will of the person who has given the assurance does not [30] change. For if he retains the 'power to cancel his assurance, he really hasn’t surrendered his right; he’s only given words. So if this person, who, by the Right of nature, is his own judge, has judged—whether rightly or wrongly (for since he’s human, he may have erred)—that the assurance he gave will lead to more harm than good, he will think, in his own mind, that he ought to cancel his assurance. And by the Right of nature (by §9) he will cancel it.²⁵

[III/281] 13. If two men make an agreement with one another and join forces, they can do more together, and hence, together have more right over nature, than either does alone. The more connections they’ve formed in this way, the more right they’ll all have together.²⁶

[5] 14. Insofar as men are tormented by anger, envy, or some affect of hatred, they’re pulled in different directions and contrary to one another. For that reason they’re more to be feared the more they can do, and the more shrewd and cunning they are than other animals.²⁷ And because (as we said in i, 5) men are by nature subject to these affects [10] most of the time, they are by nature enemies.²⁸ For my greatest enemy is the one I most have to fear and most have to be on guard against.

15. Moreover, since (by §9) everyone in the state of nature is his own master just as long as he can prevent others from overpowering him, [15] and since it’s futile for one person alone to try to protect himself from all others, it follows that as long as human natural right is determined by each person’s power, and belongs to that person, there’s no human natural right. It consists more in opinion than in fact, since there’s no secure way to maintain it.²⁹

What’s more, it’s certain that each person can do that much less, and [20] so has that much less right, the greater the cause he has for fear.³⁰ To this we may add that men can hardly sustain their lives and cultivate their minds without mutual aid.³¹

So we conclude that the Right of nature which is a peculiar property of the human race can hardly be conceived except where men have [25] common rights and are jointly able to claim for themselves³² lands they can inhabit and cultivate, are able to protect themselves, fend off any force, and live according to the common opinion of all. For (by §13) the more they agree as one in this way, the more right they all have together. If this is the reason the Scholastics want to say that man is a [30] social animal³³—because in the state of nature men can hardly be their own masters—I have nothing to say against them.

16. Where men have common rights, and all are led as if by one mind,³⁴ it’s certain (by §13) that each of them has that much less right in proportion as the rest of them together are more powerful than he [III/282] is—that is, he really has no right over nature beyond what the common right grants him. For the rest, whatever he’s commanded to do according to the common agreement, he’s bound to carry out—or (by §4) is rightly compelled to do.

17. This right, which is defined by the power of a multitude, is usually [5] called Sovereignty.³⁵ Whoever, by common agreement, has responsibility for public Affairs—that is, the rights of making, interpreting, and repealing laws, fortifying cities, and making decisions about war and peace, etc.—has this right absolutely.³⁶ If this responsibility is the business of a Council made up of the common multitude, then the [10] State is called a Democracy; if the council is made up only of certain select people, it’s called an Aristocracy; and finally, if the responsibility for Public Affairs, and hence sovereignty, is vested in one person, it’s called a Monarchy.

18. From what we’ve shown in this Chapter, it becomes clear to us that in the state of nature there’s no sin³⁷—or if anyone sins, he [15] sins against himself, not anyone else. No one is bound by the Law of nature to conduct himself according to another person’s wishes if he doesn’t want to, or to regard anything as good or evil, except what he himself, according to his own mentality, decides is good or evil. And absolutely, the Law of nature prohibits nothing except what no one can do (see §§5 and 8).

[20] Sin is an action which can’t rightly be done. If men were bound by the established practice of nature to be guided by reason, everyone would necessarily be guided by reason.³⁸ For the established practices of nature are the established practices of God (by §§2 and 3). God established them with the same freedom with which he exists. So these things follow from the necessity of the divine nature (see §7). They’re [25] eternal and can’t be violated. But men are mostly guided by appetite without reason. They don’t disturb the order of nature; they necessarily follow it. So the ignorant and weak-minded are no more bound by the Law of nature to organize their lives wisely than a sick man is bound to have a sound Body.

19. Sin, then, can be conceived only in a State, i.e., where the common law of the whole state decides what’s good and what’s evil, and where (by §16) no one acts rightly unless he acts in accordance with the common decree or agreement. For (as we said in the preceding section) sin is what can’t be done rightly, or what’s prohibited by law. [III/283] And obedience is a constant will to do what by law is good and what the common decree says ought to be done.

20. But we’re also accustomed to call sin what’s contrary to the dictate of sound reason, and obedience, a constant will to moderate our [5] appetites according to the prescription of reason. I would completely approve of this, if human freedom consisted in not restraining our appetites, and the dominion of reason was bondage. But because human freedom is greater the more a man can be led by reason and control his appetites, it’s only very improperly that we can call a rational life [10] obedience and sin what’s really a weakness of Mind (and not a lack of restraint against oneself). Sin is more a ground for calling a man a slave than for calling him free. See §§7 and 11.

21. But because reason teaches us to practice piety, and to be of a good and peaceful disposition, which can happen only in a state—and [15] moreover, because a multitude can’t be led as if by one mind, as is required in a state, unless the state has laws established according to the prescription of reason—it’s not so improper for men who’ve become accustomed to live in a state to call something a sin if it’s contrary to the dictate of reason. For the best states should have established their [20] laws according to reason’s dictate.³⁹ As for my saying (in §18) that, if a man sins at all in a state of nature, he sins against himself, see iv, 4 and 5. There I show in what sense we can say that the person who has sovereignty and possesses the Right of nature is bound by laws and can sin.

[25] 22. As for Religion, it’s also certain that a man is freer, and most obedient to himself, the more he loves God and the more he worships him wholeheartedly. Insofar as we attend, not to the order of nature, which we don’t know, but only to the dictates of reason concerning [30] Religion—and at the same time insofar as we consider them as revealed to us by God, as if he were speaking in us—or also as laws, revealed through the Prophets—to that extent, speaking in a human way, we say that a man obeys God if he loves him wholeheartedly. On the other hand, if he’s guided by blind desire, he sins.

Meanwhile, we ought to be mindful that we are in God’s 'power as [III/284] clay is in the 'power of the potter, who from the same mass makes one vessel for an honorable purpose and another for a dishonorable one.⁴⁰ So we ought to remember that a man can indeed do something against these decrees of God insofar as they have been inscribed as laws in our Mind, or in the Mind of the Prophets.⁴¹ But he can’t do anything [5] against God’s eternal decree, which has been inscribed in the whole of nature and concerns the order of the whole of nature.

23. Therefore, like sin and obedience, taken strictly, so also justice and injustice can be conceived only in a state.⁴² For in nature there’s nothing which can rightly be said to belong to one person and not to another. [10] Instead, everything belongs to everyone—that is, to whoever has the 'power to claim⁴³ it for himself. But in a state, where it’s decided by a common Law what belongs to one person and what to another, a person is called just if he has a constant will to give to each person his own,⁴⁴ and unjust if he tries to make his own what belongs to someone else.

[15] 24. For the rest, we’ve explained in our Ethics that praise and blame are affects of joy and sadness, accompanied by the idea of human virtue or weakness as a cause.⁴⁵

CHAPTER III

[On the Right of the Supreme 'Powers]¹

1. The order of each state is called Civil; the whole body of the state [20] is called a Commonwealth; and its common business, which depends on the direction of a sovereign, is called Public Affairs. Insofar as men enjoy, by civil right, all the advantages of a Commonwealth, we call them citizens; insofar as they’re bound to obey the established practices of the commonwealth, or its laws, we call them subjects.² Finally, as we said [25] in ii, 17, there are three kinds of Civil order: Democratic, Aristocratic, and Monarchic. Before I begin to treat each of these separately, I’ll first demonstrate what pertains to civil orders in general. The first thing that needs to be considered is the supreme right of a Commonwealth, or of the supreme 'powers.

[30] 2. From ii, 15,³ it’s evident that the Right of a state, or of the supreme 'powers, is nothing more than the Right of nature, determined not by the power of each person, but by the power of a multitude, led as if by [III/285] one mind. That is, just as each person in the natural state has as much right as he has power, so also the body and mind of the whole state have as much right as they have power. So each citizen, or subject, has less right in proportion as the Commonwealth itself is more powerful [5] than he is (see ii, 16). Therefore, no citizen either does or has anything by right except what he can defend by the common decision of the Commonwealth.

3. If a Commonwealth grants a Right to someone, and consequently, the 'power to live according to his own mentality—for otherwise, by ii, [10] 12, it has given only words—by this act it has surrendered its own right and transferred it to the person to whom it gave that 'power. Moreover, if it has given this 'power to two or more people, so that each of them may live according to his own mentality, by this act it has divided political authority. Finally, if it has given this same 'power to each of [15] the citizens, by this act it has destroyed itself. The Commonwealth no longer remains, and everything reverts to the natural state. All these consequences are most evident from what we’ve said previously.

It follows that it can’t be conceived in any way that each citizen should be permitted by the established practice of the Commonwealth to live according to his own mentality. So this Right of Nature—that [20] each person is his own judge—necessarily ceases in the civil order.

I say explicitly by the established practice of the Commonwealth, for (if we consider the matter properly) each person’s Right of nature does not cease in the civil order.⁴ Both in the natural state and in the civil order, man acts according to the laws of his own nature and looks out for his own advantage. In each situation, I say, man is guided by hope [25] or fear, either to do or not to do, this or that action. The principal difference between the two conditions is that in the civil order everyone fears the same things: for everyone, there is one and the same cause of security and principle of living. This, of course, does not eliminate each person’s ability to judge. Whoever has resolved to obey all the [30] commands of a Commonwealth, whether because he feared its power or because he loves peace, is surely looking out for his own security and his own advantage, according to his own mentality.

4. Moreover, we also can’t conceive that each citizen should be permitted to interpret the decrees, or laws, of the Commonwealth.⁵ If everyone were permitted to do this, by that fact everyone would be his own judge, since everyone could easily excuse or embellish his deeds [III/286] under a pretext of right, and hence, organize his life according to his own mentality. But (by §3) this is absurd.

5. We see, then, that no citizen is his own master. Each is subject to the control of the Commonwealth, and bound to carry out all its [5] commands. He has no right to decide⁶ what’s fair or unfair, pious or impious. On the contrary, because the body of the state must be guided as if by one mind, and hence, the will of the Commonwealth must be considered the will of all, what the Commonwealth has decided is just and good must be thought of as having been decreed by each [citizen]. [10] So, though the subject may think the decrees of the Commonwealth unfair, he’s nevertheless bound to carry them out.

6. But here’s an objection: isn’t it contrary to the dictate of reason to subject yourself completely to someone else’s judgment? so isn’t the civil order incompatible with reason? If this is right, it would follow [15] that the civil order is irrational and can be created only by men devoid of reason, not at all by men guided by reason.

But since reason teaches nothing contrary to nature, sound reason cannot dictate that each person remain his own master, so long as men are subject to affects (by i, 5), i.e. (by ii, 15),⁷ reason denies that it can happen [that reason should dictate that each person remain his [20] own master].

Moreover, reason teaches us without qualification to seek peace, which certainly can’t be obtained unless the common laws of the Commonwealth are observed without violation.⁸ So, the more a man is led by reason, i.e. (by ii, 11), the more free he is, the more steadfastly he will observe the laws of the Commonwealth and carry out the commands [25] of the supreme 'power to whom he is subject.

Furthermore, the civil order is naturally established to take away the common fear and relieve the common wretchedness. So what it aims at most is what everyone who is guided by reason would strive to do in the state of nature, but in vain (by ii, 15). If a man who is guided [30] by reason sometimes, by the command of the commonwealth, has to do something he knows is incompatible with reason, that harm is far outweighed by the good he derives from the civil order itself. For it is also a law of reason that we should choose the lesser of two evils.

So we can conclude that no one, insofar as he does what he must according to the law of the Commonwealth, acts contrary to the prescription [III/287] of his own reason. Everyone will grant us this more easily after we have explained how far the power of the Commonwealth, and consequently, its right, extends.

7. For the first consideration is that just as (by ii, 11) in the state [5] of nature the man who is guided by reason is the most powerful and the most his own master, so a Commonwealth will also be the most powerful and the most its own master, if it is founded on and directed by reason. For the Right of a Commonwealth is determined by the power of a multitude which is led as if by one mind. But there is no [10] way this union of minds can be conceived unless the Commonwealth aims most at what sound reason teaches to be useful to all men.

8. The second consideration is that subjects are not their own masters, but are under the control of the Commonwealth, insofar as they fear its power or threats, or insofar as they love the civil order (by ii, 10). [15] From this it follows that none of the things no one can be induced to do by rewards or threats come within the scope of the rights of the Commonwealth. For example, no one can surrender his ability to judge. For what rewards or threats can induce a man to believe that the whole is not greater than its part? or that God does not exist? or that a body [20] which he sees to be finite is an infinite Being?⁹ or to believe absolutely anything else contrary to what he thinks or is aware of? Similarly, by what rewards or threats can a man be induced to love what he hates or to hate what he loves?

[25] In this category we may put those things which human nature so abhors that it considers them worse than any other evil, as that a man should act as a witness against himself, that he should torture himself, that he should kill his parents, that he should not strive to avoid death, and the like, which no one can be induced to do by rewards or threats.¹⁰ But if we still want to say that the Commonwealth has the right, or 'power, to command such things, the only sense we can make of this is as if [30] someone were to say that man can rightly be insane and mad. For what would it be but madness, to issue a law by which no one can be bound?

Here I’m speaking explicitly about things which can’t belong to the Commonwealth’s Right and which human nature is generally horrified by. Just because a fool or a madman can’t be induced by any rewards or threats to carry out the commands—or just because a few people who [III/288] are devoted to some Religion or other judge the laws of the state to be worse than any evil¹¹—still the Commonwealth’s laws are not null and void, since most of the citizens are restrained by them. So, because those who neither fear nor hope for anything are to that extent their [5] own masters (by ii, 10), they are (by ii, 14) enemies of the state, whom it may rightly restrain.

9. The third and final consideration is that things most people resent are less within a Commonwealth’s Right. For certainly men are guided by nature to unite in one aim, either because of a common [hope or]¹² [10] a common fear, or because they long to avenge some common loss. Because the Commonwealth’s Right is defined by the common power of a multitude, it’s certain that its power and Right are diminished to the extent that it provides many people with reasons to conspire against it.¹³ Certainly the Commonwealth has some things it must fear for itself. [15] Like each individual citizen, or like a man in the state of nature, the greater the reason for fear it has, the less it is its own master.

These are the matters I wanted to treat concerning the Right of the supreme 'powers over their subjects. Now before I treat their right against other [commonwealths], it seems there is a question about Religion which is apt to be asked, and needs to be answered.

[20] 10. Someone may object: don’t the civil Order, and the obedience of subjects we’ve shown to be required in it,¹⁴ destroy the Religion by which we’re bound to worship God? No. If we consider the matter properly, we won’t find anything which could cause any uneasiness. For insofar as the Mind uses reason, it is its own master and is not subject to the control [25] of the supreme 'powers (by ii, 11). Moreover, the true knowledge and love of God can’t be subjected to anyone’s command, any more than loving-kindness toward one’s neighbor can (by iii, 8). Furthermore, if we consider that the supreme exercise of loving-kindness is to protect the peace and bring about harmony, we won’t doubt that a person has really [30] done his duty if he has brought each person as much aid as the laws of the Commonwealth—i.e., harmony and tranquillity—permit.

As for external forms of worship, they certainly can do nothing at all, either to help or to harm the true knowledge of God and the love which necessarily follows from it. Indeed, we shouldn’t make so much of them that it’s worth disturbing the public peace and tranquillity on their account.¹⁵

[III/289] Moreover, it’s certain that I am not, by the Right of nature, i.e. (by ii, 3), by divine decree, the defender of religion. For I don’t have, as the Disciples of Christ once did, the 'power to cast out unclean spirits and to perform miracles.¹⁶ This 'power, of course, is so very necessary [5] for spreading Religion to places where it’s forbidden that without it, not only do we waste time and trouble, as they say,¹⁷ but in addition we create a great many sources of distress. Every age has seen the most grievous examples of this.

Everyone, therefore, wherever he may be, can worship God in accordance with true Religion,¹⁸ and look out for himself, which is the duty of [10] a private man. Moreover, the responsibility for spreading Religion must be committed either to God or to the supreme 'powers, who alone have the responsibility for Public Affairs. With that I return to my subject.

11. Now that we’ve explained the right of the supreme 'powers over [15] citizens, and the duty of subjects, it remains for us to consider their right against other [commonwealths]. From what we’ve said already, it will be easy to know what this right is. For since (by iii, 2) the Right of the supreme 'power is nothing more than the Right itself of nature, it follows that two states are related to one another as two men are in the state of nature, with one exception.¹⁹ A Commonwealth can take precautions against [20] being overpowered by another Commonwealth. But a man in the state of nature—a man burdened daily with sleep, often with illness or grief, and in the end with old age—that man can’t provide security for himself against being overpowered by another man. Moreover, he is liable to other disadvantages from which the Commonwealth can make itself secure.

12. The Commonwealth, therefore, is its own master insofar as it [25] can look after itself and take precautions against being overpowered by another Commonwealth (by ii, 9 and 15). And (by ii, 10 and 15) it’s subject to the control of another insofar as it fears the other Commonwealth’s power, or insofar as the other Commonwealth prevents it from achieving what it wants, or, finally, insofar as it needs the other’s aid for its own [30] preservation or growth. For we can’t doubt that if two Commonwealths are willing to provide mutual aid to each another, the two together can do more, and so, together have more right than either one has alone. See ii, 13.

13. We can understand this more clearly if we consider that by [III/290] nature two Commonwealths are enemies. For (by ii, 14) in the state of nature men are enemies. So those who retain the Right of nature outside a Commonwealth remain enemies. So if one Commonwealth wants to make war on another, and will stop at nothing to bring it [5] under its control, it has the right to try this. To wage war it’s enough for it to have the will to wage war. But it can’t settle anything about peace unless the other Commonwealth voluntarily acquiesces. From this it follows that the Rights of war belong to each Commonwealth, whereas the Rights of peace belong, not to one Commonwealth, but to at least two Commonwealths, which for that reason are called allies.

[10] 14. This alliance remains firmly established so long as the reason for making the alliance—the fear of loss or hope of profit—continues to motivate both parties. But if either Commonwealth loses its hope or fear, it is once again its own master (by ii, 10), and the chain by which the Commonwealths were bound to one another is broken of its own [15] accord. So each Commonwealth has a complete right to dissolve the alliance whenever it wants to. It can’t be said that it acts deceitfully or treacherously because it rescinds its assurance as soon as the cause of fear or hope is taken away. This condition was the same for each of the contracting parties: whichever one could first be free of fear would be its own master, and would use its freedom as it thought best.

[20] Moreover, no one contracts for the future unless he assumes that certain circumstances will prevail. If these circumstances change, then the nature of the whole situation also changes. That’s why each of the allied Commonwealths retains the right to look out for itself, and why each of them strives, as far as it can, to get beyond fear, and hence, to be its own master. That’s also why each of them strives to prevent the [25] other from becoming more powerful.

So, if any Commonwealth complains that it has been deceived, it can’t condemn the good faith of the allied Commonwealth, but only its own foolishness, because it entrusted its own well-being to another Commonwealth, which was its own master and for which the well-being of its own state is the supreme law.²⁰

[30] 15. When Commonwealths have contracted a peace with one another, they have the right to settle questions which can be raised about the conditions of the peace, or the laws by which they have pledged their loyalty to one another, since the laws of peace do not belong to one Commonwealth only, but to all those which contract together (by iii, 13). But if they can’t agree among themselves about these matters, they thereby return to the state of war.

[III/291] 16. The greater the number of Commonwealths which enter into an agreement for peace with one another, the less each one must be feared by the others, or the less is the 'power each one has to make war, and the more it is bound to observe the conditions of peace, i.e. [5] (by iii, 13), the less it is its own master and the more it is bound to accommodate itself to the common will of the allies.

17. What we’ve said here does not in any way eliminate the good faith which both sound reason and Religion teach us to observe.²¹ Neither reason nor Scripture teaches that every assurance we give is [10] to be honored. When I’ve promised someone to guard the money he has given me to be kept in secret for him, I’m not bound to keep my promise once I know, or believe I know, that what he gave me was stolen. On the contrary, I will act more properly if I undertake to restore it to its owners.

Similarly, if the supreme 'power has promised to do something for [15] someone, and afterward time or reason has taught, or seemed to teach, that it will harm the common well-being of his subjects, surely he is bound to break his word. Therefore, since Scripture teaches only in general that we should keep our word, and leaves the particular cases where exceptions are to be made to each person’s judgment, it teaches nothing incompatible with what we’ve just shown.

[20] 18. But to avoid having to interrupt the thread of my argument frequently to deal with similar objections, I want to warn that I’ve demonstrated all these conclusions from the necessity of human nature, however it may be considered. That is, I’ve demonstrated them from the universal striving all men have to preserve themselves, a striving [25] in all men, whether they’re wise or ignorant. So however we consider men, whether as guided by an affect or by reason, the result will be the same. For the demonstration, as we’ve said, is universal.

[III/291] CHAPTER IV

[What Matters of State Depend Only on the Governance of the Supreme 'Powers]¹

1. We’ve shown in Chapter 3 that the right of the supreme 'powers [30] is determined by their power, and we’ve seen that [that right] consists chiefly in this, that it is, as it were, the mind of the state,² by which everyone ought to be guided. So the supreme 'powers alone have the right to decide³ what’s good and what’s evil, what’s right and what’s [III/292] wrong, i.e., what must be done or omitted by each person, or by all together. We’ve seen, therefore, that the supreme 'powers alone have the right to make laws, and, when there’s a dispute about them, to interpret them in each particular case, and to decide whether a given case was decided contrary to the law or in accordance with it (see iii, [5] 3–5). Next, we’ve seen that they alone possess the right to make war, to lay down and offer conditions for peace, and to accept those offered (see iii, 12–13).⁴

2. Since all these activities, as well as the means required to carry them out, are matters which concern the whole body of the state, that [10] is, Public Affairs, it follows that Public Affairs depend only on the governance of whoever has the supreme authority. It follows that only the supreme 'power has the Right to judge each person’s deeds, to require each person to account for what he’s done, to punish offenders, [15] to settle disputes between citizens concerning the law, and to set up people knowledgeable in the laws, who will administer them in its place.

In addition, [the supreme 'power] has the right to organize and use all the means of war and peace, to found and fortify cities, to assemble soldiers, to assign military offices, to command what it wants done, to send and receive ambassadors for the sake of peace, and finally, to levy [20] taxes for all these purposes.

3. So, since only the supreme 'power possesses the Right to handle public affairs, or to choose ministers to do so, it follows that if a subject, by his own decision, without the knowledge of the supreme Council, undertakes some public business—even if he believes that what he intends to do will be best for the Commonwealth—he is laying claim [25] to political authority.⁵

4. But people commonly ask: is the supreme 'power bound by laws?⁶ and so, can it sin? But since the words “law” and “sin” customarily apply, not only to the Laws of the Commonwealth, but also to the common rules of all natural things, and especially to the common rules [30] of reason, we can’t say, without qualification, that the Commonwealth isn’t bound by any laws, or can’t sin. For if a Commonwealth weren’t bound by any laws, or rules, without which the Commonwealth would not be a Commonwealth, then we’d have to think of it, not as a natural thing, but as a fantasy.

The Commonwealth sins, then, when it does, or allows to happen, [III/293] what can be a cause of its ruin. We say then that it sins in the same sense in which Philosophers or Doctors say that nature sins. In this sense we can say that the Commonwealth sins when it does something contrary to the dictate of reason. For a Commonwealth is most its own [5] master when it acts according to the dictate of reason (by iii, 7). Insofar as it acts contrary to reason, it fails itself or sins.

We’ll understand these things more clearly if we consider that when we say each person can decide whatever he wishes concerning a thing of which he is the master, this 'power must be defined not only by the [10] power of the agent, but also by the capacity of what he’s acting on. If I say, for example, that I can rightly do whatever I wish concerning this table, I surely don’t mean that I have the right to make this table eat grass. Similarly, even though we say that men are not their own masters, but are subject to the Commonwealth, we don’t mean that they lose [15] their human nature and take on a different nature. Nor do we mean that the Commonwealth has the right to make men fly, or (what is equally impossible) to make men honor those things which move them to laughter or disgust. What we mean is that when certain circumstances are present, the subjects respect and fear the Commonwealth, and that [20] when those circumstances are absent, this fear and respect are destroyed. When they’re destroyed, so is the Commonwealth itself.

So for the Commonwealth to be its own master, it’s bound to maintain the causes of fear and respect. Otherwise it ceases to be a Commonwealth. For it’s as impossible for one who holds political authority (or those who do so) to run, drunken or naked, through the streets with [25] prostitutes, to play the actor, to openly violate or disdain the laws he himself has made,⁷ and at the same time to preserve his authority, as it is to both be and not be at the same time. To slaughter and rob his subjects, to rape their young women, and actions of that kind, turn fear into indignation, and hence turn the civil order into a state of hostility.⁸

5. We see, then, in what sense we can say that the Commonwealth [30] is bound by laws and can sin. But if by law we understand the civil Law, which can be defended by the civil Law itself, and by sin what the civil Law prohibits us from doing—i.e., if we take these terms in their proper meaning—we can’t say in any way that the Commonwealth is bound by laws or can sin. For the rules and causes of fear and respect the Commonwealth is bound, for its own sake, to observe [III/294] don’t concern the civil Law, but the Law of nature. By §4 they can’t be defended by the civil Law, but [only] by the Law of war. The only way the Commonwealth is bound by them is the way a man in the state of nature is bound to take care not to kill himself: to be able to be his own master, or not to be an enemy to himself, he must take care [5] not to kill himself. This care, of course, is not obedience, but freedom of human nature. But the civil Law depends only on the decree of the Commonwealth, which is not bound to conduct itself according to anyone’s wishes but its own, if it is to remain free. It’s also not bound to consider anything good or evil except what it has decided is good [10] or evil for itself. Therefore, it has the right not only to defend itself, and to make and interpret laws, but also to repeal them, and from the fullness of its power, to pardon any guilty party.

6. There’s no doubt that the contract,⁹ or the laws by which a multitude transfers its right to a Council or a man, ought to be violated [15] when it’s in the interest of the general welfare to violate them. But (by §3) no private person is entitled to make the judgment about whether it’s in the interest of the general welfare to violate them or not. Only the sovereign can rightly do this. Therefore, by the civil Law only the sovereign is left to be the interpreter of those laws. To this we may [20] add that no private person can lawfully defend them. So they don’t really bind the sovereign.

But if that’s the nature of these laws—that they can’t be violated unless the strength of the Commonwealth is at the same time weakened, i.e., unless the general fear of most citizens is at the same time turned into indignation—by that very fact [of political weakness arising from [25] general indignation] the Commonwealth is dissolved, and the contract is inoperative. So the contract is defended, not by the civil Law, but by the Law of war. So the sovereign is bound to observe the conditions of this contract for no other reason than a man in the state of nature is bound to take care not to kill himself, if he’s not to be an enemy to himself (as we said in §5).¹⁰

CHAPTER V

[The ultimate and highest end a State can aim at]¹

1. In ii, 11, we showed that a man is most his own master when he is [III/295] led most by reason, and so (by iii, 7) that a Commonwealth is most powerful, and most its own master, when it’s founded on and directed by reason. Moreover, since the best way of living, to preserve yourself as much as possible, is one guided by the prescription of reason, it [5] follows that the best course is the one a man or a Commonwealth pursues, insofar as it’s most its own master. For when we say that someone has done something by right, we’re not saying he’s done it in the best way.² It’s one thing to cultivate a field by right and another to cultivate it in the best way. It’s also, I say, one thing to defend oneself, preserve oneself, make a judgment, etc., by right, and [10] another to defend oneself, preserve oneself, and make a judgment in the best way. So, it’s one thing to command and have responsibility for Public Affairs by right, and another to command and govern Public Affairs in the best way. Let this be enough concerning the right of each Commonwealth in general. Now it’s time to discuss the best condition of each state.

[15] 2. We can know easily what the best condition of each state is from the end of the civil condition, which is nothing other than peace and security of life.³ Therefore, that state is best where men pass their lives harmoniously and where the laws are kept without violation.⁴ For certainly we should impute rebellions, wars, and contempt [20] for, or violation of, the laws not so much to the wickedness of the subjects as to the corruption of the state. Men aren’t born civil; they become civil.⁵

Moreover, the natural affects of men are the same everywhere. If wickedness is more prevalent in one Commonwealth than in another, and more sins are committed there, this surely comes from the fact [25] that the [more wicked] Commonwealth hasn’t provided adequately for harmony, hasn’t set up its laws wisely enough, and so, hasn’t obtained the absolute Right of a Commonwealth.⁶ For a civil order which hasn’t eliminated the causes of rebellions, where you constantly have to fear war, and where the laws are frequently violated, is not that different [30] from the state of nature, where everyone lives according to his own mentality, his life always in great danger.⁷

3. But just as the subjects’ vices, and their excessive license and stubbornness, are to be imputed to the Commonwealth, so, on the other hand, their virtue and constant observance of the laws are to be attributed most to the virtue of the Commonwealth and its absolute right. This is evident from ii, 15. That’s why it’s rightly credited to [III/296] Hannibal’s exceptional virtue that there was never any rebellion in his army.⁸

4. A Commonwealth whose subjects, terrified by fear, don’t take up arms should be said to be without war, but not at peace. Peace isn’t the [5] privation of war,⁹ but a virtue which arises from strength of mind. For (by ii, 19) it’s obedience, a constant will to do what must be done in accordance with the common decree of the Commonwealth. When the peace of a Commonwealth depends on its subjects’ lack of spirit—so that they’re led like sheep, and know only how to be slaves—it would [10] be more properly called a wasteland than a Commonwealth.¹⁰

5. When we say, then, that the best state is one where men pass their lives harmoniously, I mean that they pass a human life, one defined not merely by the circulation of the blood, and other things common to all [15] animals, but mostly by reason, the true virtue and life of the Mind.¹¹

6. But note: when I say a rule has been set up for this end, I mean that a free multitude has set it up, not that the rule over a multitude has been acquired by the right of war.¹² For a free multitude is guided by hope more than by fear, whereas a multitude which has been subjugated [20] is guided more by fear than by hope.¹³ The first want to cultivate life; the second care only to avoid death. The first are eager to live for themselves; the second are forced to belong to the victor. So we say that the second are slaves, and the first free.

The end of a state someone acquires by the Right of war, then, is [25] to be master; it has slaves rather than subjects. When we attend to the general right of each state, there is no essential difference between one created by a free multitude, and one acquired by the right of war. Still, we’ve shown that each has a very different end. Furthermore, the means by which each state must be preserved are very different.

[30] 7. Machiavelli, ever shrewd, has shown in detail the means a Prince must use to stabilize and preserve his rule, if all he craves is to be master. Why he did this may not be clear. If his purpose was good, as we must believe of a wise man, it seems to have been to show how imprudent many people are to try to remove a Tyrant from their midst, [III/297] when they can’t remove the causes of the prince’s being a Tyrant. On the contrary, they give the prince more reason to fear, and so more reason to be a Tyrant. When a multitude has made an example of their prince, and glories in his assassination, as in a deed well done, they give the new prince such reasons.

[5] Perhaps Machiavelli also wanted to show how much a free multitude should beware of entrusting its well-being absolutely to one person. Unless the prince is so vain that he thinks he can please everyone, he must fear treachery every day. So he’s forced to look out for himself, and to set traps for the multitude, rather than look out for their interests. I’m the more inclined to believe this about that very prudent man [10] because it’s clear he was on the side of freedom, and gave very good advice for protecting it.¹⁴

[III/297] CHAPTER VI

[How a Monarchic Government Should Be Set Up So as Not to Fall into a Tyranny]¹

1. Men, we’ve said,² are guided more by affect than by reason. So a multitude naturally agrees, and wishes to be led, as if by one mind, not [15] because reason is guiding them, but because of some common affect. As we said in iii, 9, they have a common hope, or fear, or a common desire to avenge some harm. Moreover, all men fear being alone, because no one alone has the strength to defend himself, and no one alone can [20] provide the things necessary for life. So by nature men desire a civil order. It can’t happen by nature that they’ll ever completely dissolve it.

2. Therefore, when disagreements and rebellions are stirred up in a Commonwealth—as they often are—the result is never that the citizens dissolve the Commonwealth—though this often happens in other [25] kinds of society. Instead, if they can’t settle their disagreements while preserving the form of the Commonwealth, they change its form to another. So when I speak of the means required to preserve the state, I understand the means necessary to preserve its form without any notable change.

[30] 3. If human nature were so constituted that men desired most what is most useful, there’d be no need of skill to produce harmony and loyalty. But it’s evident that human nature isn’t at all like that. As a [III/298] result, it’s been necessary to set up a state, so that everyone—both those who rule and those who are ruled—does what’s for the common well-being, whether they want to or not. That is, it’s been necessary to set it up so that everyone is compelled to live according to the prescription of reason, whether of his own accord, or by force, or by necessity.

This happens if the affairs of the state are so arranged that nothing [5] which concerns the common well-being is committed absolutely to the good faith of any one person. For no one is so alert that he doesn’t sometimes lose focus; and no one has such a powerful and unimpaired mind that he is not sometimes broken down and apt to be overcome, especially when the greatest strength of character is needed. It’s folly to [10] require of someone else what no one can ask of himself, that he look out more for others than for himself, that he not be greedy, or envious, or ambitious, etc., especially when every day he has the strongest incentives to all the affects.

4. Admittedly, experience seems to teach that it contributes to peace [15] and harmony when all 'power is conferred on one man. No state has stood so long without notable change as that of the Turks. On the other hand, none have been less lasting than popular, or Democratic states. Nowhere else have there been so many rebellions.

Still, if slavery, barbarism, and being without protection are to be [20] called peace, nothing is more wretched for men than peace.³ No doubt there are more, and more bitter, quarrels between parents and children than between masters and slaves. Nevertheless, it doesn’t make for the orderly management of a household to change paternal Right into mastery, and treat children like slaves. To transfer all 'power to one man makes for bondage, not peace. As we’ve said, peace does not [25] consist in the privation of war, but in a union or harmony of minds.

5. Anyone who believes that one man alone can control the supreme Right of a Commonwealth is greatly mistaken. As we showed in Chapter 2, Right is determined only by power. But the power of one man is [30] quite unequal to bearing such a burden. That’s why, when a multitude has chosen a King, he seeks Commanders or Counselors or friends, to whom he commits his own well-being and that of everyone else. So a state thought to be an absolute Monarchy is really, in practice, an Aristocracy.⁴ Of course, it’s not openly an aristocracy, only covertly one. [35] But that makes it the worst kind.

Moreover, a King who is a boy, or sick, or burdened with old age, is [III/299] king at the pleasure of others. The ones who really have the supreme 'power are the ones who administer the highest affairs of state, or who are closest to the King—not to mention that a King who is at the mercy of his lust is often manipulated to act according to the lust of one or [5] another seducer or catamite. “I had heard,” says Orsines, “that in Asia women used to reign; but this is something new, that a eunuch should reign” (Curtius, X, i).⁵

6. Moreover, this is certain: that a Commonwealth is always put at greater risk on account of its citizens than on account of its enemies.⁶ For good men are indeed rare.⁷ It follows that someone entrusted with [10] the whole right to rule will always fear his own citizens more than his enemies. So he’ll try to look out for himself, and to plot against his subjects, not look after their interests—especially the ones famous for their wisdom or more powerful because of their wealth.⁸

7. In addition, Kings even fear their sons more than they love them, and fear them the more, the more the sons are skilled in the arts of war [15] and peace, and the more their virtues make their subjects love them. That’s why they try to educate them so that they’ll have no cause to fear them. Their courtiers are very ready to obey the King in this, and do their best to have a successor King who is untrained, whom they can manipulate by their craft.⁹

8. From all these considerations it follows that a King is less his [20] own Master, and that the condition of his subjects is more wretched, the more absolutely the Right of the Commonwealth is transferred to him. So, to establish a Monarchic government properly, it’s necessary to lay firm foundations for it. If this is done, the Monarch will be secure, and the multitude will have peace. Accordingly, a Monarch will [25] be most his own master, when he’s most attentive to the well-being of the multitude. I’ll first set out briefly, and then show in an orderly way, what the foundations of Monarchic government are.

9. It’s necessary to found and fortify one or more cities, all of whose citizens enjoy the same rights in the Commonwealth, whether they [30] live within the city’s walls or (because they’re involved in agriculture) outside them—but on this condition: that each city maintains a certain number of citizens for its own defense, and the common defense. If a city can’t furnish this force, it must be considered in subjection, under different conditions.¹⁰

10. The army must be formed only from the citizens, without exception, and not from any others.¹¹ Moreover, everyone should be required [III/300] to bear arms, and no one is to be counted as a citizen until he’s acquired military skill, and promised to practice that skill at the designated times of the year.¹²

Next, after the armed forces of each clan have been divided into companies and regiments, no one is to be chosen leader of a company [5] unless he has learned military Engineering.¹³

Furthermore, the leaders of companies and regiments are to be chosen for life. But whoever commands the entire army of a clan is to be chosen only in wartime, and is to have supreme command for only a year. He cannot be continued in command or chosen again later.¹⁴ These commanders are to be chosen from the King’s Counselors [10] or from those who’ve served as Counselor (on the Counselors, see §§15ff.).

11. All the city residents and farmers—i.e., all the Citizens—are to be divided into clans, which will be distinguished by their name and by some insignia.¹⁵ Everyone born into one of these clans is to be received into the ranks of the citizens; his name is to be entered in the list of [15] his clan as soon as he has reached an age where he can bear arms and learn his duties. The only exceptions should be those who are notorious for some wickedness, or who are mute, or madmen, or servants, who make their living by performing some servile function.

12. The fields, and all the land, and if possible, the houses too, should [20] be public property, i.e., subject to the control of the one who has the Right of the Commonwealth.¹⁶ He should lease them for an annual rent to the citizens, or to the city residents and farmers. In time of peace everyone should be free, or exempt, from any taxation. One part of the rent the King receives should be dedicated to the fortification of the Commonwealth; the other, to his personal use. For in time of peace it’s [25] necessary to fortify cities as if for war, and in addition, to have ships and other instruments of war prepared.¹⁷

13. Once the King has been chosen from some clan, no one is to be considered Noble except those who have descended from the King, who for that reason should be distinguished by Royal insignia both from their own and from the other clans.

[30] 14. Male nobles related to the King by the third or fourth degree of consanguinity should be prohibited from marrying; any children they’ve fathered should be considered illegitimate, and unworthy of any high office. Nor should the children be recognized as their parents’ heirs. Instead, all the parents’ goods should revert to the King.

15. Moreover the King’s Counselors—those who are closest to him, [III/301] or who are second in rank—should be many, and should be chosen only from the citizens. Three or four or (if there aren’t more than six hundred clans) five should be chosen from each clan. Together they’ll constitute one member of the Council, not for life, but for three, or [5] four, or five years. So each year a third, or fourth, or fifth part of them is newly chosen. But in this choice, we should note particularly that from each clan at least one of the Counselors chosen should be a jurist.¹⁸

16. The King should make this choice himself. At the time of year [10] appointed for the election of new Counselors each clan must send the King the names of all its citizens who have reached the age of fifty, and who have been duly advanced as candidates for this office. From them the King should choose the one he wishes.¹⁹ But in a year in which a jurist from one clan must be succeeded by one from another clan, only [15] the names of jurists should be given the King. Counselors who have performed this office for the time prescribed cannot continue in it, nor can they be placed again on the selection list for at least five years.

The reason it’s necessary to choose one Counselor a year from each clan is to prevent the Council from being composed of inexperienced [20] Novices one year, and the next year, of Old Hands, expert [in public Affairs]. This would necessarily happen if they all retired at the same time, to be succeeded by new Counselors. But if one is selected each year from each clan, then only a fifth, or a fourth, or at most a third of the Council will be Novices. Moreover, if other business, or [25] some other reason, prevents the King from being able to find time for this choice, then the Counselors themselves should choose temporary replacements, till the King himself chooses others, or approves those the Council has chosen.

17. The first duty of this Council should be to defend the fundamental [30] laws of the state and to give advice about the things to be done, so that the King may know what he must decree for the public good. So the King will not be permitted to decide anything about any matter unless he has first heard the opinion of this Council. But if, as will generally happen, the Council is not of one mind, but has various opinions, even after it has discussed the problem two or three times, [III/302] the matter must not be drawn out longer. The differing opinions must be reported to the King, as we’ll make clear in vi, 25.

18. It will also be the duty of this Council to promulgate the King’s statutes and decrees, to take responsibility for what has been decreed [5] about Public affairs, and to look after the whole administration of the state, as deputies of the King.²⁰

19. Citizens will have no access to the King except through this Council, to whom all claims and petitions are to be delivered, to be presented to the King. The ambassadors of other Commonwealths will [10] also not be permitted the privilege of addressing the King, except by the intercession of this Council. Furthermore, Letters sent to the King from other places must be delivered to him by this Council. The King is absolutely to be considered as the mind of the Commonwealth; but the Council should be considered the mind’s external senses, as it were²¹ the body of the Commonwealth, through which the mind conceives [15] the condition of the State, and does what it decides is best for itself.

20. The responsibility for educating the King’s sons will also fall to this Council, as well as their guardianship, if the King dies and leaves an infant or child as his successor.²² But so that the Council will not in the meantime be left without a King, a Senior Nobleman of the Commonwealth [20] ought to be chosen to take the King’s place, until his legitimate successor reaches the age at which he can bear the burden of rule.

21. The Candidates for this Council shall be those who know the government, the fundamental principles, and the situation or condition of the Commonwealth whose subjects they are. But anyone who wishes to fill the position of jurist must know, not only the government and [25] condition of the Commonwealth whose subject he is, but also the government and conditions of the other Commonwealths with which their Commonwealth has some business. No one shall be eligible for selection unless he has reached fifty without being convicted of any crime.

22. In this Council nothing must be concluded concerning the affairs [30] of the state unless all members are present. If someone is ill, or for some other reason can’t be present, he must send someone else in his place, someone of the same clan, who has filled the same office, or been put on the selection list. If he doesn’t do this, but compels the Council to defer discussing some matter till later, because of his absence, he shall [III/303] be fined some substantial sum of money. But this must be understood to apply only when the matter concerns the whole state, such as war and peace, or repealing or instituting some law, or commerce, etc. If the matter concerns only one city or another, or written petitions, etc., [5] it will be enough if a greater part of the Council is present.

23. For there to be equality between clans in everything, and yet an order of being seated, of making proposals, and of speaking, they must take turns, so that each one shall preside at one session, and the one who is first in one session is last in the next one. But of those from the [10] same clan, the one who was chosen first should be first.²³

24. This Council will meet at least four times a year, to require an account of the administration of the state by the ministers, to learn the condition of things, and to see if anything further needs to be decided. For it seems impossible that so many citizens should continually devote [15] themselves to public affairs. But because those affairs must nevertheless be dealt with in the meantime, fifty or more members must be chosen from this Council, who will take its place when the Council is adjourned, and who must meet daily in their chamber, which should be adjacent to the Royal chamber. In this way they may take responsibility daily [20] for the treasury, the defenses of the cities, the education of the King’s son, and absolutely all the duties of the great Council which we’ve just enumerated (except that they can’t deliberate about new business which nothing has been decided about).²⁴

25. When the Council has convened, before anything is proposed in [25] it, five or six or more Jurists from the clans first in order of precedence in that session should go to the King, to give him whatever petitions or letters they have, inform him about the state of things, and finally, learn from him what he commands them to propose in his Council. When they’ve received his instructions, they should return to the Council, and [30] whoever is first in precedence should explain what they’re to deliberate about. If some member thinks the matter important, they should not vote right away, but defer a decision to whatever time the urgency of the matter permits.²⁵

While the Council has adjourned to the appointed time, the Counselors from each clan will be able to ask about the problem separately. If the matter seems to them very important, they’ll be able to consult [III/304] others who’ve occupied the same office or who are Candidates for the Council. If they can’t agree among themselves within the appointed time, that clan will be excluded from the vote (for each clan will be able to cast only one vote).²⁶ Otherwise, the Jurist of this clan, having been [5] instructed, will present in the Council the opinion they have judged to be best, as will the other advisors.

If it seems to the majority, after they’ve heard the reasons for each opinion, that they should consider the matter again, the Council will again be adjourned until a time when each clan will declare what its [10] final opinion is. Then, when the whole Council is present, and the votes have been collected, any opinion which didn’t get at least a hundred votes should be considered null and void. The rest should be conveyed to the King by all the Jurists who were in the Council, so that after he’s understood the arguments on each side, he can choose the one he prefers.

The advisors should then return to the Council, where they’ll all [15] wait for the King to hear, at the time he’s appointed, which opinion he thinks ought to be chosen, from among those they brought him, and what he’s decided must be done.

26. For administering justice another Council must be formed, composed entirely of Jurists. Their duty is to decide lawsuits and [20] punish criminals, but to do this in such a way that all their decisions are approved by the deputies of the great Council, who must decide whether due process has been observed and the decision made without favoritism.

If a losing party is able to show that one of the judges was corrupted by a gift from his opponent, or has any other common reason for friendship [25] toward his opponent (or for hatred toward the complainant), or finally, that the standard procedure for judging hasn’t been observed, he is to be made whole.

Perhaps these principles couldn’t be observed by those who, when they investigate crimes, are in the habit of proving the defendant guilty, [30] not so much by a process of reasoning from evidence, as by torture.²⁷ But here I’m considering only procedures for judging which are consistent with the best government of a Commonwealth.

27. There ought to be many of these judges, and an odd number of them, such as sixty-one, or at least fifty-one. Only one should be [III/305] chosen from each clan, and then not for life. Each year a part of this Council should retire, and others equal in number should be chosen, who are from other clans and at least forty²⁸ years old.

28. In this Council no verdict is to be pronounced unless all the [5] judges are present. If someone can’t be present in the Council for a long time, either because of illness or for some other reason, someone else must be chosen to fill his place temporarily. In casting votes, each judge should indicate his verdict secretly, not speak it openly.²⁹

29. The pay of this Council, and of the deputies of the preceding [10] Council³⁰ should be, first, the goods³¹ of those they condemn to death, and also of those they punish with a fine. Second, from each judgment they’ve made in a civil matter, they should receive a percentage of the damages from the party who has lost his case. Both Councils should [15] share this sum.

30. In each city there should be other, subordinate Councils, whose members also ought not to be elected for life. Also, each year some part of these Councils ought to be selected from the clans living in that city. There’s no need to pursue these matters more fully.

[20] 31. No regular payments are to be made to the military in peacetime. In wartime a daily payment should be made only to those who make their living by daily work.³² The commanders and the other officers of units should expect no other pay than the spoils they get from the enemy.

[25] 32. If a foreigner has married the daughter of a citizen, his children should be counted as citizens and inscribed in the list of his mother’s family. Moreover, whoever is born of foreign parents, but born and brought up in the state, should be permitted to buy, for a fixed price, the Right of a citizen from the leaders of a clan, and be added to the [30] list of that clan.

Even if the leaders, for personal gain, have accepted a foreigner as a citizen at less than the established price, no harm can come to the state from that. On the contrary, ways of increasing the number of citizens more easily must be thought up, so that a large body of men is brought together.³³ But it’s fair that those who aren’t added to the list of citizens should, in wartime at least, make up for their freedom [III/306] from military service by labor or by paying a tax.

33. Ambassadors who must be sent to other Commonwealths in peacetime, either to conclude a peace or to preserve one, ought to be selected only from the Nobles and have their expenses paid from the [5] Commonwealth treasury, not from the King’s private funds. [NS: But one must choose spies who will seem capable to the King.]³⁴

34. Those who frequent the court, and members of the King’s household, to whom he pays a salary from his private funds, are to be excluded from every ministry or office of the Commonwealth. I say “to whom [10] he pays a salary from his private funds” to exclude explicitly from this group his bodyguards. For no bodyguards ought to keep watch on his behalf, in the court or before his doors, except citizens of that city, taking turns.

35. War ought to be waged only for the sake of peace, so that [15] when it’s finished, the weapons may be set aside.³⁵ When cities have been captured by the Right of war, and the enemy subdued, the peace terms must be set up in such a way that the captured cities don’t have to be protected by a garrison. Either grant the enemy the 'power to buy the cities back for a price, once the peace treaty has been accepted, or (if that course leaves the permanent fear of a threat from the rear) destroy the cities completely and resettle the [20] inhabitants elsewhere.³⁶

36. The King should not be permitted to marry a foreigner, but only either one of his blood-relatives or a citizen³⁷—provided, however, that if he marries a citizen, those most closely related to his wife by blood [25] can’t administer any office of the Commonwealth.

37. The sovereignty ought to be indivisible.³⁸ So, if the King has had a number of children, the eldest [male] should succeed by right. In no way should the rule be allowed to be divided among them, or passed on, undivided, to all or some of them—much less that a part of the [30] rule be given to a daughter as a dowry. Under no circumstances should daughters be permitted to inherit the rule.³⁹

38. If the King dies without male children, his nearest male relative is to be considered the heir of the state, unless perhaps he has married a foreign wife whom he does not want to divorce.

39. As for the Citizens, it’s evident from iii, 5, that each of them [III/307] ought to obey all the commands of the King, or the edicts promulgated by the great Council (regarding this condition, see vi, 18 and 19), even if he thinks the commands quite absurd. If he doesn’t obey, it will be right to compel him. These are the fundamental principles [5] of a Monarchic State, on which it must be erected if it’s to be stable, as we’ll demonstrate in the following Chapter.

40. As for religion, no houses of worship at all are to be built at the cities’ expense, nor are any laws to be made about opinions, unless they’re seditious and overturn the foundations of the Commonwealth. [10] So, if those who are permitted to practice their Religion publicly wish to build houses of worship, they may do so at their own expense. But the King should have his own private place of worship in the palace, to practice the Religion to which he’s attached.⁴⁰

[III/307] CHAPTER VII

[Demonstrating Methodically the Fundamental Principles Of a Non-tyrannical Monarchy]¹

1. Now that I’ve explained the fundamental principles of a Monarchic State, my intention is to demonstrate the same things in this chapter, in [15] proper order. The most important point is that it’s not at all contrary to practice for these laws to be so firmly established that not even the King himself can repeal them. For the Persians were accustomed to worship their Kings as Gods, yet even their Kings didn’t have the 'power to revoke laws once they had been established. This is evident from Daniel 6.² And nowhere that I know is a Monarch elected absolutely, [20] without any explicit conditions.

This is not contrary to reason, or to the absolute obedience owed the King. For the fundamental principles of the state must be regarded as the eternal decrees of the King. Indeed, his ministers obey him completely if they refuse to carry out any commands he gives which [25] are inconsistent with the fundamental principles of the state. We can explain this clearly with the example of Ulysses [Odyssey XII, 156ff.]. For his companions were carrying out his own command in refusing to untie him when he was bound to the mast of the ship and captivated by the sirens’ song, even though he ordered them to do this in many ways, including threats. It’s a credit to his wisdom that [30] afterward he thanked his comrades for having obeyed him according to his first intention.

Kings, too, commonly follow the example of Ulysses, and instruct their judges to practice justice without giving special consideration to anyone, not even the King, if he commands something in a particular [III/308] case which they know to be contrary to the established law. For Kings are not Gods, but men, who are often captivated by the Syrens’ song.³ If everything depended on the inconstant will of one man, nothing would be firmly established. If a Monarchic state is to be stable, it must be set up in such a way that everything is done, [5] indeed, only according to the King’s decree, i.e., that all law is the King’s will, as it has been made known, but that not everything the King wills is law. On this, see vi, 3, 5, and 6.

2. Next note that in laying the foundations we must pay the most careful attention to human affects. It’s not enough to have shown what [10] ought to be done; it’s necessary especially to show how it can be done in such a way that men may still have valid and firmly established rights and laws,⁴ whether they’re led by affect or by reason. For if the rights provided by the state, or public liberty, rest only on the weak support of the laws,⁵ not only will the citizens have no security that they’ll maintain their liberty (as we showed in vi, 3), but even that [15] support will be destroyed. For this is certain: no condition of a Commonwealth is more wretched than that of the best state, when it begins to totter—unless it falls at a single stroke and collapses into bondage (which really seems to be impossible). So it would be much better for the subjects to transfer their right unconditionally to one person than to agree to uncertain and empty or ineffective conditions for liberty, [20] and thus to make the way ready for future generations to descend into the cruelest slavery.

But if I show that the foundations of a Monarchic state, as set out in the preceding Chapter, are firm, and can’t be undermined without arousing the indignation of the greatest part of an armed multitude, and that from these foundations peace and security follow, both for the King and the multitude, and if I deduce these things from the common [25] nature of men,⁶ no one will be able to doubt that these foundations are the best and true. This is evident from iii, 9; and vi, 3 and 8. That they have this nature, I shall now show as briefly as I can.

3. It’s the duty of the sovereign, as everyone will admit, to know the situation and condition of the State, to look out for the common [30] well-being of all, and to bring about whatever is useful for the majority of his subjects. But since one person alone can’t review everything, and can’t have his mind always alert, and concentrated on deliberation, and since he’s often prevented from devoting himself to public affairs by illness or old age or other causes, the Monarch must have Counselors, [III/309] who find out what the situation is, give the King advice, and often take his place, so that the state, or Commonwealth, always has one and the same purpose.⁷

4. But because human nature is so constituted that everyone is most [5] strongly disposed by his affects to seek his personal advantage, judges those laws most equitable which are necessary to preserve and advance his own interest, and defends another person’s cause just to the extent that he believes it makes his own situation more stable, it follows that the Counselors chosen ought, necessarily, to be those whose personal [10] situation and advantage depend on peace and the common well-being of everyone.⁸ To this end, it’s clear that if some are chosen from each kind or class of citizens, that will be to the advantage of the majority of the subjects, because they’ll have the greatest number of votes in this Council.

[It may be objected that] because this Council is composed of such a large number of citizens, it must be attended by many whose mentality [15] is quite uncultivated.⁹ Still, this is certain: each of them will be shrewd and clever enough in matters he has long been passionately involved in. So if all the Counselors chosen have been busy with their own affairs without disgrace till their fiftieth year, they’ll be capable enough to [20] give advice about their own affairs, especially if there’s adequate time for reflection in matters of great weight.

Moreover, it’s far from true that a Council consisting of only a few members is not populated by such people. On the contrary, the majority consists of men of this kind, since everyone there tries to have dull [25] colleagues, who will hang on his every word. That does not happen in large Councils.

5. Furthermore, it’s certain that everyone prefers ruling to being ruled. “For no one willingly grants another the right to command,” as Sallust observes in the first speech to Caesar.¹⁰ Hence it’s evident [30] that a whole multitude would never transfer its right to one or a few people, if its members could agree among themselves and not go from the kind of controversy generally aroused in large Councils to a rebellion. Indeed, a multitude freely transfers to a King only what it cannot have absolutely in its 'power, i.e., an end to controversies and speed in making decisions.

[III/310] The common practice of choosing a King to be better able to conduct war, on the theory that Kings are much more successful at waging war, is sheer stupidity. To wage war more successfully, people are willing to be slaves in peace—if, indeed, peace is conceivable in a state whose [5] supreme 'power has been transferred, simply for the sake of war, to one man, who can best show his virtue, and what advantage they all have in him, by waging war.¹¹ On the other hand, the chief feature of a Democratic state is that its excellence is valued much more highly in peace than in war.¹²

But for whatever reason a King may be chosen, he by himself, as [10] we’ve said [§3], can’t know what’s advantageous for the state. For this purpose, as we showed in §4, it’s necessary for him to have many citizens as Counselors. And because there’s no way we can conceive that there can be a solution to the problem they’re being consulted about which will escape such a large number of men, it follows that no solution [15] conducive to the people’s well-being is conceivable, except for the opinions this Council reports to the King.¹³ Thus, because the people’s well-being is the supreme law, or the King’s highest right, it follows that the King has the right to choose one of the opinions brought to him by the Council, but not to decree anything, or render any opinion, contrary to the intention of the whole Council. (See vi, 25.)

[20] But if all the opinions brought up in the Council were to be reported to the King, it could happen that the King would always favor the small cities, which have fewer votes. For even if it should be laid down by a law of the Council that opinions were reported without their authors being named, still, they’ll never be able to take precautions so well that [25] the information does not leak out. That’s why it’s necessary to establish that an opinion which did not receive at least a hundred votes should be considered null and void. The larger cities will have to defend this law with all their force.

6. Here, if I were not eager to be brief, I would show the other great advantages of this Council. Still, I’ll mention one, which seems most [30] important: there can be no greater incentive to virtue than the common hope of achieving this highest honor. For we’re all moved most powerfully by the love of glory, as we’ve shown fully in our Ethics.¹⁴

7. No doubt the majority of this Council will never have a disposition in favor of war. They’ll always have a great zeal for, and love of, [III/311] peace. Not only will they always fear losing their property along with their freedom, but new taxes are required for war, which they have to supply. Moreover, their children and relations, occupied with private [5] concerns, will be compelled to apply their zeal to arms and to go into military service. They can bring nothing home from that but unprofitable scars. For as we said (in vi, 31), the army is not to be paid any stipends, and (by vi, 10) it’s to be formed only from citizens, no others.

[10] 8. Another important factor favoring peace and harmony is that no citizen may have any immovable goods (see vi, 12). As a result, the danger from war will be nearly equal for everyone. Once, among the Athenians, a law was passed prohibiting everyone from lending money at interest to non-residents. If such a law were passed, then to earn a [15] living everyone would have to work at a trade, or lend money to their fellow citizens. So they’d have to engage in business dealings which are either entangled with one another or require the same means to succeed. Thus the majority of this Council will generally be of one and the same mind concerning their common affairs and the arts of peace. [20] As we said in §4, everyone defends the cause of another just so far as he believes that in this way he makes his own situation more stable.

9. No doubt no one will ever consider trying to corrupt this Council with gifts. For if he drew one or two Counselors to his side, from such a [25] large number of men, that wouldn’t do him any good. As we’ve said, an opinion which does not receive at least a hundred votes is null and void.

10. Moreover, once this Council has been established it won’t be possible to reduce its members to a smaller number. We’ll see this easily [30] if we consider men’s common affects. For everyone is moved most powerfully by the love of glory, and everyone who is physically healthy hopes to extend his life into a long old age. So if we calculate how many have in fact reached the age of fifty or sixty, and if in addition we take account of the large number of the Council selected every year, we’ll [III/312] see that there can hardly be any who bear arms who aren’t possessed by a great hope of achieving this dignity. So everyone will defend the right of this Council, as far as they can. Note that unless corruption creeps in gradually, it’s easily prevented.

[5] But because it’s more easily conceivable, and less apt to cause envy, that fewer members should be chosen from each clan, than that fewer should be selected from only a few clans, or that one or two clans should be completely excluded, (by vi, 15) the number of Counselors can’t be reduced to a smaller number, unless by this act a third, or a [10] fourth, or a fifth part is taken away. Such a great change is completely at variance with common practice. Nor ought we to fear that [the King] will delay, or be negligent in selecting Council members. Should there be a delay, the Council itself will make it good. (See vi, 16.)

11. So whether the King is led by a fear of the multitude, perhaps [15] to bind the greater part of the armed multitude to himself, or led by a nobility of spirit, to consult the public advantage,¹⁵ either he’ll always endorse the opinion which has the most votes, i.e., (by §5), which is more useful to the majority, or he’ll be anxious to reconcile, if possible, the inconsistent opinions brought to him, so that he draws everyone to [20] himself. He’ll direct all his energy to this end, so that they’ll know by experience what they have in this one man, as much in peace as in war. Indeed, when he most looks after the common well-being of the multitude, he’ll be most his own master, and will have the greatest control.

[25] 12. The King by himself cannot control everyone by fear.¹⁶ As we’ve said,¹⁷ his power rests on the number of his soldiers, and especially on their excellence and their loyalty, which will always be constant among men, just as long as they’re united by need, whether this need is honorable or shameful. That’s why kings more commonly spur their soldiers [30] on rather than restrain them, and conceal their soldiers’ vices more than their virtues,¹⁸ and generally, oppress the best, seek out the idle and those corrupted by extravagant living, recognize them, aid them with money or favor, reaching out to grasp their hands, blowing them kisses, and playing their slave in all things, to establish mastery over them.¹⁹

So for the citizens to be recognized by the King before all others, and [35] remain their own masters, as much as the civil order, or equity, allows, it’s [III/313] necessary for the army to be composed entirely of citizens, and that his Counselors be citizens. As soon as the citizens allow mercenary troops to be engaged²⁰—men whose trade is war and whose power is greatest when there is dissension and rebellion—they’re completely reduced to [5] subjection and lay the foundation for eternal warfare.

13. It’s evident from what we’ve said in §§9 and 10 that the King’s Counselors ought not to be chosen for life, but for three, four, or at most five years. If they were chosen for life, there would be a number [10] of bad consequences: most citizens could hardly conceive any hope of achieving that honor. This would lead to great inequality among the citizens, and so to envy, constant grumbling, and finally, to rebellions. These would not be unwelcome to Kings eager to be the master. Moreover, because the Counselors would have no fear of their successors, [15] they would treat everyone with great license. Again, the King would not be at all opposed to this. The more the citizens detest the Counselors, the more they’ll cling to him and fawn on him.

Indeed, even a five-year term seems too long, because it doesn’t seem impossible, in that length of time, to cause quite a large part of [20] the Council (however large the Council is) to be corrupted by gifts or favors. So it will be much safer if every year two from each clan yield their seats and the same number succeed them—that is, if each clan is to have five Counselors—except in a year when a clan’s jurist departs and a new member is chosen in his place.

[25] 14. No King can promise himself a greater security than one who reigns in a Commonwealth of this kind. For not only does a King quickly perish if his soldiers don’t want him to be safe, but it’s also certain that the greatest danger for Kings always comes from those closest to them. So the fewer the Counselors are, and the more powerful [30] they consequently are, the greater the danger they’ll transfer the rule to someone else. Certainly nothing terrified David more than the fact that his Counselor Achitophel had chosen Absalom’s side [2 Samuel 15].

Moreover, if all 'power has been transferred unconditionally to one man, it can far more easily be transferred from that one to another. For two common soldiers undertook to transfer the rule of the Roman [III/314] Empire, and they succeeded (Tacitus, Histories Bk. I).²¹

I say nothing about the devices and shrewd tricks Counselors must use to prevent their being sacrificed to envy. They are too well known. No reader of History can fail to know that loyalty has commonly been the ruin of Counselors.²² For their own protection they are obliged to [5] be shrewd, rather than loyal.

But if the Counselors are so many that they can’t agree in the same wicked plan, if they’re all equal to one another, and don’t serve in this office for more than four years, they can’t be a threat to the King, unless he tries to take away their liberty. If he does that, he offends all [10] citizens equally. For (as Antonio Pérez notes quite rightly): “to exercise absolute rule is very dangerous for a Prince, very hateful to his subjects, and contrary to the laws instituted by both God and man. Countless examples show this.”²³

15. In the preceding Chapter, in addition to these foundations, we’ve [15] laid others which yield great security to the King in his rule, and to the citizens in maintaining freedom and peace. We’ll establish these in their proper place. Before anything else I wanted to demonstrate the things pertaining to the supreme Council, which are of the greatest moment. Now I’ll pursue the remaining things, in the order I’ve set for myself.

[20] 16. There’s no doubt that the citizens are more powerful, and consequently, more their own masters, the larger their cities and the better fortified they are. For the safer the place they live in, the better they can defend their freedom, or the less they have to fear from an enemy, whether external or internal. And certainly the wealthier men are, the more they [25] naturally look out for their security. Moreover, cities which need another’s power to preserve them do not have a right equal to their protector’s. Insofar as they need the other’s power, they are subject to the other. For as we’ve shown in Chapter 2 [§§2–3], right is defined only by power.²⁴

17. For this same reason—that citizens should remain their own [30] masters and protect their freedom—the army must consist only of citizens, without exception. For an armed man is more his own master than one who is unarmed (see §12). When the citizens give their weapons to someone else, and entrust their cities’ defenses to him, they transfer their right to him unconditionally, and commit it completely to his good faith.²⁵ To this we may add human greed, which is most [III/315] people’s chief motive.²⁶ For it’s not possible to engage a mercenary soldier without great expense, and citizens can hardly bear the cost of maintaining an idle army.

Moreover, everyone who has read history, sacred or profane,²⁷ knows that no one should be chosen to command a whole army, or a large [5] part of one, unless circumstances make it necessary. Then it must be for a year at most. Reason teaches nothing more clearly than this. For if you grant a man time enough to achieve military glory, and raise his name above the King’s—or to make the army loyal to him by indulgence, liberality, and the other arts commanders use to make themselves masters and others their slaves—you entrust the power of [10] the state completely to that man.²⁸

Finally, for the greater security of the whole state, I’ve added that these military commanders should be chosen from the King’s Counselors, or those who’ve held that office, that is, from men who’ve reached the age [15] when men generally prefer the old and safe to the new and dangerous.

18. I’ve said that the citizens should be divided into clans, and that an equal number of Counselors are to be chosen from each clan, so that the larger cities would have more Counselors, in proportion to the number of their citizens, and would be able to bring more votes to bear. This is equitable.²⁹ For the power of a state, and hence its right, [20] are to be reckoned by the number of its citizens. I don’t believe we can devise a more suitable way of preserving equality among citizens, because everyone is so constituted by nature that he wants to be reckoned as belonging to his own kind, and distinguished from the rest by his origin.³⁰

[25] 19. Moreover in the state of nature there’s nothing a person is less able to claim³¹ for himself and make himself master of than the land, and whatever is so attached to it that he can’t conceal it or carry it off somewhere. Therefore, the land, and whatever is attached to it in that way, is in the highest degree the common property of the [30] Commonwealth,³² that is, of all those who can claim it for themselves by their united forces, or of him to whom they’ve all given the 'power to claim it for himself. Consequently, the land, and whatever is attached to it, must have a value, in the eyes of the citizens, proportional to their need to be able to settle there and defend their common right, or freedom. In §8, we’ve shown what advantages the Commonwealth must derive from this.

[III/316] 20. For the citizens to be as equal as possible—which is especially necessary in a Commonwealth—none are to be counted as Noble except the King’s descendants. But if every descendant of the King were permitted to marry or to have children, in the course of time they [5] would grow to quite a large number. Not only would they be a burden to the King and to everyone else, they would also be quite frightening for them. Men who have too much leisure often spend their time contemplating wicked actions. It’s because of the Nobles that Kings are especially prone to wage war.³³ For a King surrounded by Nobles, there’s more security and tranquillity in war than in peace. But I leave [10] these matters. They’re well enough known, as are the things I said in vi, 15–27. The main things have been demonstrated in this Chapter, and the rest are evident in themselves.

21. Everyone also knows that the Judges ought to be so numerous that a private person can’t corrupt many of them by gifts, that their [15] votes ought to be secret, not open, and that they deserve compensation for their service.³⁴ But the custom everywhere is for them to have an annual salary. As a result they’re in no hurry to settle disputes, which often go on endlessly. And where the confiscation of goods is profitable to the King, often

[20] it’s not right or truth which is considered in their inquiries, but the size of [the defendants’] fortunes; denunciations occur everywhere, and the richest are seized as prey; these proceedings are intolerable burdens; though excused by the necessity of war, they remain in peace.³⁵

Still, when Judges occupy their positions for two or three years at most, their greed is moderated by fear of their successors. Moreover, [25] when the Judges cannot have immovable goods, but to make a profit must trust their money to their fellow citizens,³⁶ they’re forced to consider the citizens’ interests rather than plot against them—especially if, as we’ve said, there are many judges.

22. But we’ve said that the military are not to receive regular payments.³⁷ [30] For the army’s greatest reward is freedom. In the state of nature each person tries to defend himself as much as he can, simply for the sake of freedom. No one expects any other reward for excellence in fighting than that he should be his own [master]. Now in the civil state all the citizens collectively ought to be considered as just like a man in the state of nature. So when they all fight for their state, they’re looking out for themselves and devoting themselves to themselves. But [III/317] the Counselors, Judges, Officers, etc., are devoting themselves more to others than to themselves. So it’s fair that they receive compensation [5] for their service. Moreover, in war there can be no more honorable or greater incentive to victory than the image of freedom.

On the other hand, if only some of the citizens are assigned to military service, with the result that it’s necessary to grant them regular pay, the King will necessarily give them greater recognition than the others (as we’ve shown in §12). Of course, these will be men who know only the arts of war, men who in peace are corrupted by extravagant living, because they have too much leisure, and men, finally, who because of [10] their poverty think of nothing but plunder, civil discord, and wars. So we can say that a Monarchic state of this kind is really in a condition of war, that only the military enjoys freedom, and that the rest of the people are slaves.³⁸

23. I believe the things we said in vi, 32, about admitting foreigners [15] to citizenship, can be known without argument. Moreover, I don’t think anyone doubts that those closely related to the King by blood ought to be kept at some distance from him,³⁹ and occupied with matters of peace, not war. This will bring them honorable achievements and the state tranquillity.

However, not even this has seemed sufficiently safe to the Tyrants [20] of the Turks. That’s why they’ve felt it a matter of religious duty to kill all their brothers. We shouldn’t wonder at this. The more absolutely the right to rule has been transferred to one person, the easier it is to transfer it from him to someone else (we’ve shown this by example in §14). But no doubt a Monarchic state like the one we conceive here, [25] in which there are no mercenaries, will have provided sufficiently for the King’s well-being, if it’s set up in the way we’ve described.

24. No one can dispute what we’ve said in vi, 34 and 35. Moreover, it’s easily demonstrated that the King ought not to marry a foreign wife [vi, 36]. For apart from the fact that two Commonwealths, though [30] united in an alliance, remain in a state of enmity toward one another (by iii, 14), it’s necessary to take special care that war isn’t stirred up because of the King’s domestic affairs. Because alliances by marriage are especially likely to produce controversy and dissension, and disputes between two Commonwealths are generally settled by the right of war, [III/318] it follows that it’s disastrous for a state to enter into a close alliance with another state.

We find a fateful example of this in Scripture. For after the death of Solomon, who had married the King of Egypt’s daughter, his son, Rehoboam, waged war very unsuccessfully with Shishak, the King of [5] Egypt, who completely reduced him to subjection.⁴⁰ Moreover, the marriage of Louis XIV, King of France, with the daughter of Philip IV [of Spain], was the seed of a new war.⁴¹ In addition to these, there are a great many other examples in history.⁴²

25. The form of the state should be kept one and the same. So there should be one King, of the same sex, and the sovereignty ought [10] to be indivisible. Moreover, what I said [in vi, 37–38]—that the King’s eldest son should succeed to his father by right, or, if there are no male children, the closest male relative—is evident both from vi, 13, and because the choice a multitude makes of a King ought to be eternal, if possible. Otherwise it must happen that the supreme 'power of [15] the state often passes to the multitude, which is the greatest possible change, and consequently the most dangerous.

Moreover, those who maintain that because the King is Master of the state, and possesses [sovereignty] by absolute right, he can convey it to whomever he wishes, and choose as his successor whomever he wishes, and thus that the King’s son is heir to the state by right⁴³—those [20] people are surely wrong. The King’s will has the force of law just so long as he holds the sword of the Commonwealth. For the right of the state is defined only by power. So the King can indeed abdicate; but he can’t hand over the state to someone else, unless the multitude, or its strongest part, acquiesces.

To understand this more clearly, note that children are their parents’ [25] heirs by civil right, not by natural right. For it’s only by the power of the Commonwealth that each person is the master of certain goods. So by the same power or right by which it happens that a person’s will concerning his goods is valid [while he is alive], by that [power or right] it also happens that his will remains valid even after his death, as long as the Commonwealth lasts. In this way each person in a civil order [30] maintains the same right even after his death that he had while alive. The reason, as we’ve said, is that he can make a decision concerning his goods, not by his own power, but by that of the Commonwealth, which is everlasting.

Concerning the King the reasoning is completely different. For the King’s will is the Civil law itself, and the king is the Commonwealth itself. So the King’s death is, in a way, the death of the Commonwealth. The Civil order returns to the natural order. As a result, the supreme [III/319] 'power naturally returns to the multitude, who can therefore rightly make new laws and repeal old ones.⁴⁴ So it’s evident that no one succeeds to the King by right except the one the multitude wants to be his successor—or in a Theocracy, as the Hebrew Commonwealth formerly [5] was, the one God has chosen by a Prophet.

Furthermore, we could also deduce these things from the fact that the King’s sword, or right, is really the will of the multitude itself or of its stronger part—or even from the fact that men endowed with reason never give up their right so much that they cease to be men and may be considered as no more than cattle. But there’s no need to pursue [10] these matters further.

26. Furthermore, no one can transfer to another his right of Religion, or of worshipping God. But we’ve spoken about this at length in the last two chapters of the Theological-Political Treatise; it would be superfluous to repeat here what we said there.

With this I think I’ve demonstrated clearly enough, however briefly, [15] the foundations of the best Monarchic state. Anyone willing to carefully consider how these foundations fit together will easily see their coherence or the proportion of the rule.⁴⁵

All that remains is to point out that here I’m conceiving a Monarchic state established by a free multitude. These things can be useful only [20] to such a multitude. One which has become accustomed to another form of state won’t be able to uproot the foundations they’ve received without a great danger of overthrowing the whole state and changing its structure.

27. What we’ve written may be ridiculed by those who think the [25] vices common to all mortals belong only to the plebeians—those who think that

there’s no moderation in the common people; that they’re terrifying, unless they themselves are cowed by fear;⁴⁶

or that

the plebeians either serve humbly or rule proudly, like despots,⁴⁷

and that

there’s neither truth nor judgment in [the plebeian class], etc.⁴⁸

But everyone shares a common nature—we’re just deceived by power [30] and refinement. That’s why we often say “When two people do the same thing, it’s all right for the one to do it, but not for the other”—not that the act itself is different, but that the one who does it is.⁴⁹

Pride is what sets rulers apart. Men are puffed up when they hold office for a year. How can nobles not be proud, when they enjoy their honors for all time to come? But their arrogance is adorned with haughtiness, extravagance, wastefulness, a certain blending of vices, a kind of sophisticated folly, and a refined shamelessness. Each of their [III/320] vices, considered in itself, is disgusting and shameful, because then it’s quite conspicuous. But [taken together], they seem honorable and becoming to the ignorant and naive.

Moreover [the reason] “there’s no moderation in the common people,” [the reason] “they’re terrifying, unless they themselves are cowed by fear,” is that freedom and slavery are not easily combined.

[5] Finally, it’s no surprise that “there’s neither truth nor judgment in the plebeians” when the rulers manage the chief business of the state secretly, and the plebeians are only making a guess from the few things the rulers can’t conceal.

To suspend judgment is a rare virtue. So it’s sheer stupidity to want to do everything in secrecy, and then expect the citizens not to judge the [10] government’s actions wrongly, and not to interpret everything perversely. If the plebeians could restrain themselves, and suspend judgment on matters they know little about, or judge things correctly from scanty information, they would be more worthy to rule than to be ruled.

But as we’ve said, everyone has the same nature. Everyone is proud [15] when he’s master; everyone terrorizes when he’s not cowed by fear; and everywhere it’s common for enemies and servile flatterers to bend the truth⁵⁰—especially when they’re ruled despotically by one or a few men, who in their trials consider the size of the parties’ wealth, not the right and the true.

28. Next, professional soldiers, accustomed to military discipline, and [20] used to putting up with being cold and without food, usually scorn the crowd of citizens as far inferior to themselves: they couldn’t storm a city or fight in open Battle. But no one of sound mind will say that for that reason the state is less successful or stable. On the contrary, no [25] fair judge will deny that the most stable state is one which has enough power to defend its own possessions, but not enough to seek those of others, and which for that reason tries in every way to avoid war and to preserve peace.⁵¹

29. I confess that the plans of this state can hardly be concealed.⁵² But everyone else must confess with me that it’s much better for the [30] state’s proper and true plans to be open to its enemies than for a tyrant’s wicked secrets to be kept from his citizens. Those who can manage the business of the state secretly have it absolutely in their 'power to treat their own citizens as deviously in peace as they treat the enemy in war. That silence is often useful to the state no one can deny. But no one will ever prove that without it the state cannot stand firm. On the [III/321] contrary it’s quite impossible to entrust the Commonwealth to someone absolutely and at the same time maintain your freedom. And it’s sheer stupidity to wish to avoid a small harm by incurring the greatest evil. But this has always been the song they sing who covet absolute rule for [5] themselves: that it is altogether to the state’s advantage that its affairs be conducted in secret, and other things of this kind. The more these doctrines are cloaked in the mantle of utility, the more threatening the slavery they lead to.⁵³

30. Finally, so far as I know there’s never been a state embodying all [10] the provisions we’ve specified. Still, we could show by experience that this form of Monarchy is best, if we were willing to consider the causes of the preservation or overthrow of any state which is not barbarous. I can’t do that here without making it very tedious for the reader. Still, there’s one memorable example I don’t want to pass over in silence.

[15] The state of Aragon showed singular loyalty toward its kings, and yet kept its institutions unharmed with no less constancy.⁵⁴ As soon as the Aragonese had thrown off the yoke of slavery to the Moors, they decided to choose a King for themselves. But they had difficulty reaching agreement among themselves on the conditions of the kingship. So [20] they decided to consult the Pope⁵⁵ about the matter. On this occasion he showed himself to be truly Christ’s vicar. He chastised them for not being sufficiently mindful of the example of the Hebrews and seeking a king so stubbornly.⁵⁶ But if they wouldn’t change their minds, he advised them not to choose a king unless they had first established customs [25] both equitable and consistent with the people’s mentality. In particular, he urged them to create a supreme council which would be an obstacle to the kings, as the Ephors were in Sparta, and would have an absolute right to settle quarrels which arose between the King and the citizens.

Following this advice, the Aragonese established laws which seemed to them most equitable. The supreme interpreter of these laws, and [30] hence, the supreme judge, would be the Council, not the King. They call this Council “the Seventeen,” and its presiding officer “the Justice.” The Justice and the Seventeen were not chosen by any vote, but by lot, for life. They had the absolute right to review and reject any judgment against any citizen whatever, whether made by other Councils, either Political or Ecclesiastical, or by the King himself.⁵⁷ So any citizen [III/322] would have the right to call even the King himself before this court. Moreover, at one time the members of the Council also had the right elect the King or to deprive him of his 'power.

Many years later King Don Pedro, known as the Dagger,⁵⁸ finally managed—by solicitations, bribes, promises, and all kinds of favors—to [5] have this right rescinded. When he achieved this, he cut off his hand with a dagger in everyone’s presence—or as I would find it easier to believe, wounded himself⁵⁹—adding that subjects are not permitted to select a King without shedding royal blood. Nevertheless, they abolished this right on the condition

that they could, and can, take up arms against any force by which anyone [10] seeks to enter the kingdom to their detriment, indeed, even against the King himself and any future prince who might be his heir, if he enters (the state) in this way.⁶⁰

This condition, of course, didn’t so much abolish the right as correct it. For as we’ve shown in Chapter 4, §§5 and 6, the King can’t be deprived of his power of being the master by civil right, but only by right of [15] war—that is, his subjects are permitted only to repel his force by force. In addition, they stipulated other conditions, which aren’t relevant here.

These customs, supported by universal opinion, remained inviolate for an incredibly long period, with the Kings always showing as much loyalty to their subjects as the subjects did toward their King. But after [20] the kingdom of Castile passed by inheritance to Ferdinand,⁶¹ who was the first of all to be called Catholic, the Castilians began to envy the freedom of the Aragonese. They never stopped urging Ferdinand to rescind those rights. But he was not yet accustomed to absolute rule and did not dare try anything. So he made this reply to his Counsellors:

[25] Besides the fact that he had accepted the Kingdom of Aragon on conditions they knew, and had sworn a most sacred oath to preserve those conditions, and besides the fact that it is uncivilized to break a promise you’ve given, he had become convinced that his Kingdom would be more stable so long as the King’s security was no greater than that of his subjects, so that the King did not outweigh his subjects, and the [30] subjects did not outweigh their King. For if either party turns out to be more powerful, the weaker party will strive not only to recover its former equality, but also to repay the other party for the harm it has suffered. So one or the other will fall.⁶²

These are indeed wise words. I couldn’t admire them sufficiently if they’d been uttered by a King accustomed to rule slaves, not free men.

[III/323] So after Ferdinand the Aragonese retained their freedom, not now by right, but by the grace of more powerful Kings, until Philip II, who oppressed them with a more fortunate outcome, indeed, but with no less cruelty than he did the United Provinces. And though Philip III seems [5] to have restored everything to its former condition, still the Aragonese, most of whom are led by their desire to flatter the powerful with lip service—for it’s sheer stupidity to kick against the pricks⁶³—and the rest of whom are deterred by fear, have retained nothing but specious words of freedom and empty customs.

31. We conclude, then, that a multitude can preserve a full enough [10] freedom under a King, so long as it brings it about that the King’s power is determined only by the power of the multitude, and is preserved by the multitude’s support. And this was the only Rule I followed in laying the foundations of a Monarchic state.

[III/323] CHAPTER VIII

That an Aristocratic state ought to be composed of a large number of patricians; of its excellence; that it comes nearer to being absolute than a Monarchic State does; and for this reason is more suited to preserving Freedom.¹

1. So far we’ve discussed the Monarchic State. Now we’ll say how an [20] Aristocratic State should be organized so that it can last. We’ve said that a state is Aristocratic if the rule is not by one man, but by certain men selected from the multitude, whom we’ll henceforth call Patricians. I say, expressly, that certain selected men rule. For this is the chief difference [25] between an Aristocratic and a Democratic state: in an Aristocratic State the right to govern depends only on choice, whereas in a Democratic state it depends chiefly either on some innate right or (as we’ll say in the proper place) on a right acquired by fortune.² So even if the whole multitude of a state should be admitted among the Patricians, provided [30] that right is not hereditary, and does not pass to others by some common law, that state will still be completely Aristocratic, since no one except [III/324] those who are expressly chosen is admitted among the Patricians.³ But if only two Patricians have been selected, each will strive to be more powerful than the other, and because each one has too much power [for the other to conquer easily], the state will easily be divided into two factions—and into three, or four, [5] or five factions, if three or four or five [Patricians] have power.⁴ But the factions will be weaker the more the rule has been conferred on many people. From this it follows that for an Aristocratic state to be stable, we must take account of the size of the state in determining the minimum number of Patricians.

[10] 2. Suppose, then, that for a state of moderate size it’s enough that there be a hundred outstanding men on whom the supreme 'power of the state is conferred, and who consequently have the right to select their Patrician Colleagues when one of them dies. These men will of course try in every way to have their children, or those most nearly [15] related to them by blood, succeed them. The result will be that the supreme 'power of the state will always be possessed by those fortune has given to the Patricians as children or blood-relatives. And because, of a hundred men who achieve honors by fortune, it will be hard to find three who are powerful and influential because of their skill and judgment, the 'power of the state won’t rest with a hundred men, but [20] with only two or three, who stand out because of the excellence of their minds. They will easily draw everything to themselves, and in the common way of human desire,⁵ each will be able to make a smooth path to Monarchy for himself.

So if we make our calculations rightly, it’s necessary for the supreme 'power of a state whose size requires at least a hundred outstanding [25] citizens to be conferred on at least five thousand Patricians.⁶ In this way the state will never lack a hundred men who stand out for their excellence of mind—assuming that of fifty men who seek honors and achieve them, there will always be one who is equal to the best, besides the others, who emulate the virtues of the best, and are therefore also [30] worthy to rule.

3. The Patricians are commonly citizens of one city, which is the capital of the whole state, so that the Commonwealth or Republic takes its name from that city, as the Roman republic once did, and as the Venetian, Genoese, etc. do now.⁷ But the Republic of the Hollanders takes its name from a whole province, with the result that the subjects of this [III/325] state enjoy a greater liberty. Before we can determine the foundations on which this aristocratic state must rest, we must note the difference between a rule transferred to one person and a rule transferred to a large enough Council. The difference is very great.

[5] First, as we said in vi, 5, the power of one man is quite unequal to the task of preserving a whole state. No one can say this (without obvious absurdity) about a large enough Council. For whoever affirms that the Council is large enough thereby denies that it’s unequal to the task of preserving the state. So a King absolutely requires counsellors. But a [10] Council doesn’t require anything of the kind.

Second, Kings are mortal, but Councils are everlasting. So the power of a state which has once been transferred to a sufficiently large Council never returns to the multitude. This is not true in a Monarchic state, as we showed in vii, 25.

[15] Third, a King’s rule is often precarious, either because he’s a child, or sick, or aged, or for other causes of this kind [as noted in vi, 5]. But the power of a Council always remains one and the same.

Fourth, the will of one man is quite variable and inconstant. For this reason (as we said in vii, 1), in a Monarchic state every law is indeed the [20] King’s will made explicit; but not everything the King wills ought to be law. This can’t be said about a large enough Council. For since, as we’ve just shown, the Council itself needs no Counsellors, every declaration of its will ought to be law.

Accordingly, we conclude that a rule transferred to a sufficiently [25] large Council is absolute, or comes nearest to being absolute. For if there’s any absolute rule, it’s the rule which occurs when the whole multitude rules.

4. Nevertheless, insofar as this Aristocratic rule never returns to the multitude (as we’ve just shown), and there’s no consultation with the [30] multitude in it, but absolutely everything the Council wills is law, we must in every respect regard this aristocracy as absolute. Consequently, its foundations must rest only on the will and judgment of the Council, not on the vigilance of the multitude, since they’re prevented both from offering advice and from voting. The only reason its rule is not [III/326] in practice absolute is that the multitude is terrifying to its rulers. So it maintains some freedom for itself. If it doesn’t claim that freedom for itself by an explicit law, it still claims it tacitly and maintains it.⁸

5. It’s evident, then, that the condition of this state will be best if it’s [5] so organized that it comes nearest to being absolute, that is, so that the multitude is as little to be feared as possible, and maintains no freedom except what must necessarily be granted it from the constitution of the state itself, which is therefore a right, not so much of the multitude itself, as of the whole state, which only the best claim and preserve as [10] theirs. In this way practice will most agree with theory, as is evident from viii, 4, and also evident in itself. For we can’t doubt that the more rights the plebeians claim for themselves—as in lower Germany⁹ those Societies of artisans, commonly called Guilds, usually have—the less the state will be a possession of the Patricians.

[15] 6. The plebeians ought not to fear any danger of savage slavery from the fact that sovereignty is granted absolutely to the Council. For the will of a Council so large cannot be determined so much by immoderate desire as by reason. Indeed, evil affects pull men in different directions. They can’t be led as if by one mind except insofar as what they desire [20] is honorable, or at least has the appearance of being honorable.

7. The chief thing to be observed, then, in determining the foundations of an Aristocratic state is that they depend only on the will and power of its supreme Council, so that the Council is its own master, [25] as far as possible, and that it’s in no danger from the multitude. To determine foundations which depend only on the will and power of the supreme Council, let’s consider the foundations of peace peculiar to a Monarchic state and foreign to this one. If, for the Monarchic foundations, we substitute other, equivalent foundations, suitable to an [30] Aristocratic state, and leave the rest as we’ve laid them down, there’s no doubt that we’ll have removed all causes of sedition—or at least this state will be no less secure than a Monarchy. On the contrary, it will be more secure, and its condition better, the more it approaches nearer to absolute rule than a monarchic state, without harm to its peace [III/327] and freedom (see §§3 and 6). For the greater the right of the supreme 'power is, the more the form of the state agrees with the dictate of reason (by iii, 5), and consequently the more suitable it is for preserving peace and freedom. So let’s run through what we said in vi, 9, to reject [5] the things foreign to this state and see which ones are suitable to it.

8. The first thing necessary is to found and fortify one or more cities. No one can doubt that. But it’s particularly necessary to fortify the capital of the whole state, and the cities on its borders. For the [10] capital has the greatest right, and ought to be more powerful than all the rest. Besides, in this state it’s quite superfluous for all the inhabitants to be divided into clans.

9. As for the armed forces, since we don’t need, in this state, to seek [15] equality for all, but only among the Patricians, and especially since the power of the Patricians is greater than that of the plebeians, it’s certain that the laws or fundamental rights of this state don’t require that the army be formed only of subjects. But no one should be accepted as a Patrician [20] unless he’s well-versed in the military arts. This is especially necessary.

To keep the subjects out of the armed forces, as some wish, is sheer stupidity.¹⁰ For in addition to the fact that a military stipend paid to subjects remains in the realm, whereas whatever is paid to a foreign soldier is lost, the greatest strength of the state is weakened. For certainly [25] those who fight for their altars and homes fight with singular courage.¹¹

From this it’s also clear that they are no less mistaken who maintain that generals, colonels, captains, etc., ought to be chosen only from the Patricians. How courageously will soldiers fight, when you take away from them all hope of achieving glory and honors?¹²

On the other hand, to make a law that the Patricians are not permitted [30] to hire a foreign army when the situation demands it, whether for their own defense and putting down sedition, or for any other reason you like, is not only ill-advised, but also contrary to the supreme right of the Patricians. On this, see above §§3, 4 and 5.¹³

Further, a general of an army, or of the whole armed forces, ought to be chosen only in war, and only from the Patricians. He should [III/328] have the command for a year at most, and not be continued in command or chosen again later. This law is necessary in a Monarchy, but especially necessary in this state. We said above [vii, 14] that it’s much easier for rule to be transferred from one man to another than for it to be transferred from a free Council to one man. Nevertheless, it [5] often happens that Patricians are overpowered by their own generals, with much greater injury to the Republic. Indeed, when a Monarch is removed, it’s not a change of the state, but only of the Tyrant. But in an Aristocratic state this can’t happen without the overthrow of the state and the loss of the most prominent men. Rome has given us the [10] most grievous examples of this.¹⁴

However that may be, the reason we gave for saying that in a Monarchic state the Military ought to serve without a salary does not apply in a state of this kind. For since the subjects are kept both from Councils and from voting, they ought to be regarded as just like foreigners. So they ought not to be brought into military service on [15] terms less favorable than those of foreigners. There’s no danger here that the Council will give them greater recognition than the rest. But to prevent each one from unfairly valuing his own deeds, as is apt to happen, it’s more advisable for the Patricians to decree a definite reward to the soldiers for their service.

[20] 10. The fact that everyone except the Patricians is a foreigner has another consequence: the fields, houses, and land can’t be publicly owned, and leased to the inhabitants for an annual rent, without danger to the whole state. For if subjects who have no share in the state are permitted to carry their possessions wherever they want to, they’ll [25] quickly abandon all the cities in times of trouble. So the fields and farms of this state must be sold to the subjects, not rented—but on this condition, that each year they pay some part of the annual income, etc., as is done in Holland.

[30] 11. Having considered these matters, I proceed to the foundations on which the supreme Council ought to be supported and strengthened. We’ve shown in §2 that in a state of average size there ought to be about 5,000 members in this Council. So we must seek a way of preventing the rule from gradually falling to the lot of fewer men, and seeing, in fact, that the number of rulers increases in proportion to increases in the state. Next, we must see that as far as possible [III/329] equality is preserved among the Patricians, that matters are handled expeditiously in the Councils, that the common good is attended to, and finally, that the power of the Patricians, or the Council, is greater than that of the multitude, but in such a way that the multitude do [5] not suffer harm by it.

12. The greatest obstacle to preventing [the rule from gradually becoming concentrated in the hands of fewer and fewer men] is envy. For as we’ve said, men are by nature enemies—and however much they’re united and bound by laws, they still retain their nature. That’s the reason, I think, why Democratic states are transformed [10] into Aristocracies, and Aristocracies, in the end, into Monarchies. For I’m quite convinced that most Aristocratic states were initially Democratic.

When a multitude, seeking a new place to live, found it and cultivated it, the whole multitude retained an equal right to command. No one willingly gives the rule to another.¹⁵ But though each of them may [15] think it fair that [another member of the original multitude] possesses the same right against him that he possesses against the other, still, each thinks it unfair that foreigners who join them should have a right equal to theirs in a state they sought for themselves by their labor and appropriated at the cost of their own blood.

And the foreigners themselves don’t deny this.¹⁶ Those who migrate [20] there, not to rule, but to attend to their private affairs, think enough is granted them if only they’re given the freedom to conduct those affairs in security. But in the meantime, the multitude is increased by the influx of foreigners, who gradually take on the customs of the native people, until at length they’re distinguished only by the fact that they don’t [25] have the right to acquire honors. While the number of the immigrants grows daily, the number of citizens is for many reasons diminished. Indeed, often clans die out; some are excluded because of crimes; and many neglect Public Affairs because of a difficulty in their domestic affairs. In the meantime, the more powerful desire nothing more than [30] to reign alone. So gradually the rule is reduced to a few, and finally, because of factions, to one.

To the causes mentioned, we could add others which destroy states of this kind. But because they’re well enough known, I omit them. Now I’ll show in an orderly way the laws by which the state we’re discussing ought to be preserved.

13. The most important Law of this state must be the one which [III/330] determines the ratio of the Patricians to the multitude. For (by §1) the ratio between them ought to be managed so that the number of Patricians increases in proportion to increases in the multitude. By what we said in §2, this ratio ought to be about 1 to 50. That is, the [5] disproportion between the number of Patricians and the number of the multitude should never be greater than that. For by §1, the number of Patricians can be much greater in proportion to the number of the people, and the form of the state still be preserved. The danger lies only in there being too few Patricians. How we ought to take care that [10] this law is kept inviolate I’ll soon show in its proper place.

14. In some places the Patricians are chosen only from certain clans. To establish this by an explicit law is very harmful. For besides the fact that clans often cease to exist, and that the others are never excluded without disgrace, it’s contrary to the form of this state that patrician [15] status be hereditary (by §1). Such a measure makes the government seem like a Democracy—as we’ve described a Democratic state in §12—where a very few citizens rule.

Nevertheless, to prevent the Patricians from selecting their own sons and blood-relatives, and hence to prevent the right of ruling from [20] remaining in certain clans, is not only impossible, but absurd, as I’ll show in §39. However, provided that they don’t maintain this by an explicit law, and provided the rest are not excluded—that is, those who have been born in the state, use the native language, don’t have a foreign wife, aren’t disreputable or servile, and don’t make their living in some [25] servile occupation (among which are to be numbered wine sellers and pubowners, and others of this kind)¹⁷—the form of the state will still be maintained, and the ratio between the Patricians and the multitude will always be able to be preserved.

15. Furthermore, if it’s established by law that younger men cannot be chosen, it will never happen that a few clans keep a hold on the [30] right of ruling. So it ought to be established by law that no one can be on the list of candidates until he’s reached the age of thirty.¹⁸

16. Third, it ought to be established that all the Patricians must gather at a certain location in the city at definite, fixed times, and that unless they’ve been prevented from attending this Council by illness or [III/331] some public business, those who haven’t been present should be fined a meaningful amount of money. Unless this is done, many will neglect their public responsibilities, out of a concern for their private affairs.

17. The function of this Council is to make and repeal laws, to choose their Patrician Colleagues, and to appoint all public servants. For [5] whoever has the supreme right, as we’ve maintained that this Council does, can’t give to someone else the 'power to make and repeal laws, without at the same time yielding his own right and transferring it to the person to whom he’s given that 'power. Indeed, whoever has the 'power to make and repeal laws for even one day can change the [10] whole form of the state. But [the sovereign] can temporarily transfer to others the administration of the daily business of the state, according to established laws, without surrendering his supreme right. Furthermore, if the public servants were chosen by someone other than this Council, then the members of this Council ought to be called wards rather than Patricians.

[15] 18. Some are accustomed to appoint a Governor or President of this Council, either for life, as the Venetians do, or for a time, as the Genoese do. But the precautions they take make it quite clear that this can’t be done without great danger to the state. We can’t doubt that in this way the state comes close to being a Monarchy. As far as we can [20] conjecture from their histories, the only reason they did this was that before these Councils were established they had been under a Governor or Duke, as if they were under a King. So the creation of a Governor may indeed be a necessary requirement for a particular People, but it is not necessary for Aristocratic states generally.

19. Nevertheless, because the supreme 'power of this state is in the [25] hands of this Council as a whole, and not in the hands of each of its members (for otherwise it would be the assembly of a disorderly multitude), it’s necessary that all the Patricians be so bound by the laws that they compose, as it were, one body, governed by one mind. But the laws alone, by themselves, are powerless, and easily broken when [30] their defenders are the very persons who can sin, and the only men who ought to take an example from the punishment, and punish their colleagues so that they may curb their own appetite by fear of the same punishment. This is quite absurd. So we must seek a means by which the order of this supreme Council and the laws of the state are preserved inviolate, but so that there is still as much equality among the Patricians as possible.

[III/332] 20. Having one Governor or President who also has a vote in the Council must lead to great inequality, especially because of the power he must be granted, to be able to perform his duties safely. So we can do [5] nothing more useful for the common well-being, if we weigh everything properly, than to create another Council subordinate to this supreme Council, composed of certain Patricians, whose only duty is to see that the laws of the state which concern the Councils and the Ministers of the state aren’t violated. This Council should therefore have the 'power [10] to call to judgment any delinquent Minister of state who has sinned against the laws concerning his ministry, and to condemn him according to the established laws. These men we’ll henceforth call Syndics.

21. The Syndics must be chosen for life. For if they were chosen for a limited period of time, so that afterward they could be called to [15] other public offices, we’d fall into the absurdity presented in §19. But to prevent their becoming too proud, because they hold this office so long, no one should be chosen for it who has not reached at least the age of sixty, and who has not served as a Senator. (On the Senators, see below [§§29–36].)

[20] 22. We’ll easily determine the number of Syndics, moreover, if we consider that they’re related to the Patricians as the Patricians collectively are related to the multitude, whom they cannot rule if they’re fewer than the proper number. So the ratio of Syndics to Patricians ought to be the same as the ratio of Patricians to the multitude, that [25] is (by §13): 1 to 50.

23. Furthermore, for this Council to perform its duties safely, some part of the armed forces must be allocated to it, which it can command to do what it wishes.

24. The Syndics and other public officials should not receive any [30] salary. But they should receive a remuneration such that they can’t administer the State corruptly without great harm to themselves. For we can’t doubt that it’s fair for the public officials of this state to be decreed compensation for their time. The plebeians make up the greater part of the state, and the Patricians look out for their security, while the plebeians have no concern with public affairs, but only with their private interests. On the other hand, because (as we said in vii, 4) no [III/333] one defends another’s cause except insofar as he believes that he thereby makes his own situation more stable, affairs must be arranged so that the Public servants consult their own interests most when they look out most diligently for the common good.

[5] 25. So the Syndics, whose duty, as we’ve said [§20], is to see that the laws of the state are preserved inviolate, ought to be decreed the following remuneration: each Head of a Family who lives somewhere in the state, ought to pay them a small sum of money each year, say, a quarter of an ounce of silver, so that from that they can know the [10] number of inhabitants, and what percentage of the total the Patricians are. Next, each new Patrician, as he is chosen, ought to pay the Syndics some large sum, e.g., twenty or twenty-five pounds of silver. Furthermore, the fines the absent Patricians are obliged to pay—the ones not [15] present when the Council was convened—ought also to be granted to the Syndics. In addition, a part of the goods of officials who have misused their office, who are bound to submit to their judgment, and fined a certain sum of money, or whose goods are confiscated, should be set apart for them, not, indeed, for all of them, but only for those [20] who sit every day and whose duty it is to convene the Council of Syndics. (On this see §28.)

To make sure the Council of Syndics is always made up of the proper number, this must be the first question taken up when the supreme Council is convened at its customary time. But if the Syndics [25] have neglected this, then it falls to the presiding officer of the Senate (about which we will speak [in §§29ff.]) to advise the supreme Council about this, to require the presiding officer of the Syndics to explain the cause of this silence, and to ask the supreme Council what its opinion of this is. But if he too has been silent, the case should be taken up by the presiding officer of the supreme court, or (if he too is silent) [30] by some other Patrician, who should require a reason for the silence from the presiding officers, both of the Syndics, and of the Senate, and of the Judges.

Finally, so that the law by which younger men are excluded may also be strictly observed, it should be established that all those who’ve reached the age of thirty, and aren’t excluded from the government by an explicit law, should see that their names are inscribed in a register [III/334] in the presence of the Syndics and that in return for a set price, they receive from them a mark of the honor they’ve received, that they be permitted to wear a certain decoration, granted only to them, by which they may be recognized and held in honor by everyone else.¹⁹

In the meantime it should be established by law, subject to a serious penalty, that no Patrician is permitted to nominate anyone in the [5] elections unless his name is inscribed in the common register—and furthermore, that no one is permitted to refuse any office or service which he’s been elected to perform.²⁰

Finally, so that all the absolutely fundamental laws of the state may be permanent, it must be established that if anyone in the Supreme Council [10] makes an objection to some fundamental law—for example, about extending the command of some General of the army, or diminishing the number of Patricians, or the like—that he is guilty of treason. Not only should he be condemned to death, and have his property confiscated, but there should be some conspicuous, public sign of his punishment, [15] so that the memory of his crime may be everlasting.

But to stabilize the rest of the common laws of the state, it’s enough if only it is established that no Law can be repealed, and no new Law made, unless first the Council of Syndics, and after that, three-fourths or four-fifths of the supreme Council, have agreed on it.

26. In addition, the right to convene the supreme Council, and to [20] propose matters to be decided in it, should rest with the Syndics, who should also be granted first place in the Council, only without the right to vote. But before they’re seated, they must swear by the well-being of the supreme Council, and by the public freedom, that they’ll strive with the utmost zeal to see that the rights and laws of their country are kept inviolate and the common good consulted. When this has [25] been done, they may make known, in an orderly way, through their secretary, the matters to be proposed.

27. To ensure that all the Patricians have equal 'power to make decrees and select public officials, and that all business is handled expeditiously, we must approve without reservation the procedure the Venetians follow. [30] To nominate public officials they choose some of the members of the Council by lot; those members then nominate the candidates for each office; finally, each Patrician indicates by secret ballot whether he approves or rejects the person proposed. In this way no one knows afterward who voted which way. Not only does this give each Patrician [III/335] equal authority in making the decision, and get the business transacted quickly, it also means that each Council member is absolutely free to give his opinion without danger of ill-will. This is especially necessary in Councils.

28. The same procedure ought to be followed in the Council of the [5] Syndics and the other Councils: the votes should be by secret ballot. Moreover, the right to convene the Council of Syndics, and propose the things to be decided in it, ought to rest with their presiding officer, who should meet daily, with ten or more other Syndics, to hear the plebeians’ complaints and secret accusations about public officials, to [10] arrest the accused, if the situation requires it,²¹ and also to convene the Council before its regularly appointed time, if one of them judges that there is danger in delay.

But the presiding officer and those who meet with him daily ought to be elected by the supreme Council, and from the Syndics, not [15] indeed for life, but for six months; they should not be able to serve again in their office until after three or four years.²² As we said above [viii, 25], the confiscated goods and monetary fines, or some part of them, ought to be granted to them. We’ll say more about the Syndics in the proper place.

[20] 29. The second Council to be subordinated to the supreme Council we’ll call the Senate.²³ Its function is to conduct public business, e.g., to publish the laws of the state, organize the fortification of the cities according to the laws, give instructions to the armed forces, levy taxes on the subjects and allocate the revenues, reply to foreign ambassadors, [25] and decide where ambassadors are to be sent.

But to choose the ambassadors themselves should be a function of the supreme Council. For it’s especially necessary to make sure that a Patrician can be called to a public office only by the supreme Council itself, so that the Patricians aren’t anxious to seek the favor of the Senate.

Moreover, all matters which change the present state of things in [30] some way are to be referred to the supreme Council, such as decisions about war and peace. For decisions of the Senate about war and peace to be valid, they must be confirmed by the authority of the supreme Council. For this reason I would judge that the decision to impose new taxes is a matter for the supreme Council, not the Senate.

30. In determining the number of Senators, the following things [III/336] must be considered: first, all the Patricians should have an equally great hope of achieving Senatorial rank; nevertheless the Senators whose term has ended can serve again after a relatively short interval—in this way [5] the state will always be governed by men who are experienced and tested—and finally, that among the Senators there should be many who are well-known for their wisdom and virtue.

The only way we can devise to achieve all these conditions is to establish by law that no one under the age of fifty should be admitted [10] to the rank of Senator, and that four hundred (that is, about one-twelfth of the Patricians) be elected for a year. After their year has passed, they can be chosen again after two years. In this way, about one-twelfth²⁴ of the Patricians will always succeed to Senatorial office, with only brief intervals in their service. This number, combined with the number of [15] Syndics, will certainly not be greatly surpassed by the number of Patricians who have reached the age of fifty.

So all the Patricians will always have a great hope of achieving the rank, either of Senator or of Syndic, and nevertheless the same Patricians, [20] with only brief intervals in their service, will always hold the rank of Senator. By what we said in §2, the Senate will never lack outstanding men, of great judgment and skill.

Because this law cannot be broken without creating great ill-will among many of the Patricians, the only precaution needed for it to [25] always remain in force is that each Patrician who has reached the age we’ve specified should show proof of this fact to the Syndics, who will put his name on the register of those destined to achieve senatorial office, and read it aloud in the supreme Council, so that with the others of his rank he may occupy a place reserved for such men in this [30] supreme Council, a place nearest to that of the Senators.

31. The remuneration of the Senators ought to be such that peace is more to their advantage than war. So one or two percent of the value of the imports and exports should be set aside for them. In this [III/337] way, no doubt, they’ll safeguard the peace as much as they can, and never be eager to prolong a war. The Senators themselves shouldn’t be exempt from paying this duty, if some of them are merchants. For such an exemption can’t be granted without a great loss to trade. I [5] believe everyone knows this.

Next, it must be established by law that a Senator, or someone who has served as a Senator, cannot serve in any military office, and that no one whose Father or grandfather is a Senator, or who has had Senatorial rank within two years, can be chosen to be a general or other high-ranking [10] officer (positions which, as we said in §9, are to be filled only in time of war). We can’t doubt that the Patricians outside the Senate will defend these laws with the utmost vigor. So the Senators will always expect greater remuneration from peace than from war. They will never recommend war unless the most urgent necessity of the state requires it.

[15] Someone may object that if the Syndics and Senators receive such great remuneration, Aristocratic rule will be as burdensome to the subjects as any Monarchy. But first note:

[i] that royal courts require greater expenses,

[ii] that these expenses are not made to protect the peace, and

[20] [iii] that peace can never be bought at too dear a price.

Furthermore,

[iv] whatever is conferred on one or a few people in a Monarchic state, is conferred on many in this [Aristocratic] state;

[v] Kings and their ministers do not bear the burdens of the state with their subjects, whereas in this state that’s what happens;

for the Patricians, who are always chosen from the richer citizens, [25] contribute the greatest part to Public Affairs; and

[vi] finally, the burdens of a Monarchic state don’t arise so much from the royal expenses as from its secrets.

When the burdens of the state are imposed to safeguard peace and freedom, even if they’re great, they’re still endured, and borne because of the advantage peace brings. What nation ever had to pay so many and [30] such heavy duties as the Dutch? But not only has this nation not been drained dry, on the contrary, their wealth has made them so powerful that everyone has envied their good fortune.

So if the burdens of a Monarchic state were imposed for the sake of peace, they would not weigh heavily on the citizens. But as I’ve said, the secrets of this kind of state are such that the subjects sink under the burden, because the virtue of Kings is worth more in war than in [III/338] peace, and because those who wish to rule alone must strive to their utmost to have poor subjects.²⁵

I pass over in silence now the points a very wise Dutchman, V. H.,²⁶ once made, because they’re not to my purpose, which is only to describe [5] the best condition of each kind of state.

32. Some of the Syndics, chosen by the supreme Council,²⁷ ought to sit in the Senate, but without the right to vote, so that they may observe whether the laws which concern that Council are followed properly, and so that they may make sure the supreme Council is convened when something must be referred from the Senate to the [10] supreme Council. As we’ve already said [§26], the right to convene this supreme Council, and to propose the matters to be decided in it, rests with the Syndics. But before the votes are collected on such things, the officer then presiding over the Senate will indicate the state of things,²⁸ and give the Senate’s opinion about the matter proposed, and what its reasons are. When this has been done, the votes are to be collected [15] in the usual way.

33. The whole Senate should not meet daily, but like all large Councils, at some fixed time. Because the business of the state must in the meantime be administered, some part of the Senate must be chosen to represent it when it’s been adjourned. The duty of this body should [20] be to convene the full Senate when necessary, to carry out its decrees concerning Public Affairs, to read letters written to the Senate and to the Supreme Council, and finally, to deliberate about matters to be proposed in the Senate. But to conceive all these things, and the organization of the whole Council, more easily, I’ll describe everything more accurately.

[25] 34. As we’ve already said, the Senators should be chosen for a year. They ought to be divided into four or six groups. If there are four groups, the first should preside over the Senate for the first three months. If six, then for the first two months. When its term is up a second group should take the place of the first. In this way each group should take its turn in the first place in the Senate for the same period [30] of time, with the group first in the first months being last in the second months, and so on.

Furthermore, as many Presiding Officers should be elected as there are groups, and each of them should have a deputy, to take his place when necessary. That is, from each group two men should be chosen, one to be the Presiding Officer and the other his Deputy. The one who presides over the first group should also preside over the Senate in the [III/339] first months. If he’s absent, his Deputy should take his place. Similarly with the rest of the groups, the order being preserved as above.

Next, from the first group some are to be chosen, either by lot or by vote, who with their Presiding Officer and his Deputy should represent the Senate after it’s been adjourned. They’ll do this for the same length [5] of time that their group has the first place in the Senate. When their term has expired, an equal number must be chosen from the second group—again, either by lot or by vote—who with their Presiding Officer and his Deputy will replace the first group and represent the Senate. Similarly for the remaining groups.

There’s no need for the supreme Council to make the choice of [10] those whom I’ve said should be selected, either by lot or by vote, for each two- or three-month period. (Henceforth we’ll call these men “consuls.”) For the reason we gave in §29 is not relevant here (and the reason we gave in §17 is even less relevant). It will be enough if [15] they’re chosen by the Senate and the Syndics present.

35. As for their number, I can’t determine that accurately. But this much is certain: there ought to be enough that they can’t easily be corrupted. Even if they don’t decide anything about Public affairs by themselves, they can still cause delay in the Senate, or what would be [20] worse, deceive it by proposing things of no importance and withholding those of greater moment. I pass over the fact that if they were too few, the mere absence of one or two could delay the conduct of public business.

These consuls are created because large Councils can’t spend time daily on the public business. So it’s necessary to seek a middle ground [25] here, and make up for the lack of numbers by the brevity of the appointment. If only thirty or so are chosen for two or three months, there’ll be too many to be corrupted in that short a time. That’s why I’ve also recommended that the consuls who replace the outgoing consuls be [30] chosen only when they replace them and the outgoing consuls depart.

36. Furthermore, we’ve said that it’s the duty of these Consuls to convene the Senate when some of them—even if it’s only a few—have judged that it’s necessary, to propose the matters to be decided in it, to adjourn the Senate, and to carry out its decrees concerning public business. Now I’ll discuss briefly the procedure which ought to be followed, so that the discussions don’t turn into long and useless disputes.

[III/340] The Consuls should deliberate about business to be proposed in the Senate, and what must be done. If the Consuls are all of one mind about it, then when the Senate has been convened and the question explained in an orderly way, the Consuls should say what their opinion [5] is, and collect the votes in an orderly way, without waiting for any other opinion. But if the Consuls are divided, they’ll have to first state in the Senate the position the majority of the Consuls defended. If that’s not approved by a majority of the Senate and the Consuls, and the number of those who abstain or are opposed, taken together, is [10] greater—as we’ve already pointed out, this ought to be established by secret ballot—then they should inform them of the second position, which had fewer votes than the first among the Consuls. They should proceed in a similar way with any other positions.

But if no position is approved by a majority of the whole Senate, the Senate should be adjourned till the next day, or for a short time, [15] so that the Consuls can see, in the meantime, whether they can find other ways, which more of the Senators could accept. But if they don’t find any such ways, or if a majority of the Senate doesn’t approve what they’ve found, then each Senator’s opinion must be heard.²⁹

If a majority of the Senate still does not approve any position, then a vote must be taken again on each position. This time not only the [20] ballots of those voting “aye” are to be counted, as was done before, but also the votes of those abstaining and those voting “nay.” If more are found to vote “aye” than either abstain or vote “nay,” the position should carry. If more vote “nay” than either abstain or vote “aye,” it should fail. But if on all the positions the number of abstentions is greater than [25] the number of “nays” or “ayes,” then the Council of Syndics should be added to the Senate, to vote with the Senators. Only affirmative or negative votes should be counted; those who can’t make up their minds should be omitted. The same procedure is to be followed concerning things which are referred to the supreme Council from the Senate. So [30] much for the Senate.

37. As for the court, or tribunal, it can’t rest on the same foundations it did under a Monarchy, as we described it in vi, 26[–29]. For (by §14) it’s not consistent with the foundations of this state that any account be [III/341] taken of lineage or clans. Furthermore, Judges chosen only from the Patricians might indeed be kept from pronouncing an unfair sentence against one of their class by fear of the Patricians who succeed them, and might perhaps even be kept from punishing them according to their desert; but on the other hand, they would dare to do anything [5] to the plebeians, and would plunder the rich daily.

I know that this is why many approve of the policy of the Genoese, because they choose their judges from Foreigners, not from Patricians. But to me, considering the matter in a general way, it seems absurd for Foreigners, not Patricians, to be called upon to interpret the Laws. For [10] what are Judges but interpreters of the Laws? So I’m convinced that in this matter the Genoese considered the mentality of their people more than the nature of this kind of state. If we consider the matter in the abstract, we must find the means which agree best with the form of this state.

[15] 38. As for the number of Judges, the nature of this state doesn’t require any particular number. As in a Monarchy, so also here: the most important thing is that there should be more Judges than can be corrupted by any private man. For their duty is only to take care that one private person doesn’t wrong another, to settle disputes [20] between private parties, whether they be Patricians or plebeians, and to impose punishments on offenders, even Patricians, Syndics, and Senators, if they’ve disobeyed laws binding everyone. As for disputes arising between the towns under the state, they must be settled in [25] the supreme Council.

39. Furthermore, the principle governing the time for which Judges are to be chosen is the same in each state, as is the principle that some should step down each year. So, finally, is this principle: though there’s no need for each Judge to be from a different clan, it’s still necessary [30] that no two blood-relatives sit on the courts at the same time. This rule ought to be observed in the rest of the Councils, except for the supreme Council. There it’s enough if the law governing elections states that no one may nominate a near relative, or vote for one, if he’s nominated by someone else, and that in nominating public officials, two near relatives may not draw the lot from the urn.

[III/342] This, I say, is enough in the Council, which is composed of such a large number of men, and for which no particular remunerations are decreed. So there’ll be no harm to the state from that. As we said in §14, it’s absurd to make a law excluding the relatives of all the Patricians [5] from the supreme Council. The absurdity is obvious. The Patricians couldn’t establish that law without absolutely yielding their own right in this matter. So the defenders of this law would not be the Patricians, but the plebeians. This is directly contrary to what we’ve shown in §§5 [10] and 6.³⁰ Moreover, the main point of that law, which establishes that we must preserve the same proportion between the number of Patricians and the number of the multitude, is that the right and power of the Patricians must be preserved, so that they’re not too few to be able to rule the multitude.

40. Furthermore, the supreme Council must choose the Judges from [15] the Patricians, that is (by §17), from the very founders of the laws. The opinions they hand down, concerning both civil and criminal matters, will be valid if reached by the proper procedure and without favoritism. The law will allow the Syndics to investigate, judge, and decide whether these matters require redress.

[20] 41. The remuneration of Judges ought to be as we said in vi, 29: for each opinion they’ve handed down in civil matters they should get some percentage of the award from the losing party. As for sentences in criminal cases, the only difference is that the goods they’ve confiscated [25] and the fines they impose for minor crimes should be set aside for them only—but on the condition that they should never be permitted to use torture to force anyone to confess.

This will be a sufficient precaution against their being unfair to plebeians and favoring the Patricians too much out of fear. For besides [30] the fact that this fear should be moderated simply by greed, cloaked in the fine-sounding name of justice, there’s the fact that [the judges] are many, and that they cast their votes secretly, not openly. So if anyone’s angry because he has lost his case, he still has nothing he can impute to one person.

Next, the respect [of the Judges] for the Syndics will deter them from pronouncing an unfair sentence (or at least, an absurd one), and [III/343] prevent any of them from acting deceitfully—not to mention the fact that in such a large number of Judges there will always be one or two *whom the unjust dread.³¹

Finally, as far as the plebeians are concerned, they’ll be adequately protected if they’re permitted to appeal to the Syndics.³² As I’ve said, the law authorizes the Syndics to investigate, judge, and decide on [5] redress in matters involving the Judges. Certainly they’ll never be able to avoid being hated by many Patricians. On the other hand, they’ll always be in favor with the plebeians, whose applause they’ll be anxious to win, as much as they can. To that end they’ll take any opportunity [10] they’re given to reverse judgments which violate the laws of the court, to examine any judge, and to impose penalties on those who are unfair. Nothing wins the hearts of the multitude more than this.

It’s not a problem that such examples can rarely happen. On the contrary, that’s a very good sign: when a Commonwealth regularly has to [15] make examples of wrong-doers (as we showed in v, 2), it must not be well organized; and surely the most honored cases must be the rarest ones.

42. Those sent into cities or provinces as Governors ought to be chosen from the Senatorial order, because it’s the duty of the Senators to take care of the fortification of cities, finances, armed forces, etc. [20] But those sent into rather remote regions won’t be able to regularly attend meetings of the Senate. So only those destined for cities in the homeland ought to be called upon from the Senate itself; the ones they want to send to more remote places should be chosen from those approaching the age required for membership in the Senate.

[25] Still, I don’t think that in this way we’ll have adequately looked out for the peace of the whole state if we completely exclude the cities on the periphery from the right to vote—unless they’re all so weak that they can be openly treated with contempt. But that’s inconceivable. So the cities on the periphery must be granted the right of Citizenship. And from [30] each city, twenty, thirty or forty selected citizens ought to be enrolled in the ranks of the Patricians. (The number should be greater or less in proportion to the size of the city.) From these, three, four or five ought to be chosen each year to belong to the Senate; and one should be made a Syndic for life. Those who belong to the Senate should be sent, together with the Syndic, as governors to the city from which they were selected.

[III/344] 43. Furthermore, the Judges to be set up in each city should be chosen from the Patricians of that city. But I don’t consider it necessary to treat these matters more fully because they don’t pertain to the foundations of this particular state.

[5] 44. Because the Secretaries in each Council, and the other ministers of that kind, don’t have the right to vote, they must be chosen from the plebeians. But because their lengthy experience dealing with public affairs gives them an exceptional knowledge of how to conduct these matters, it often happens that more deference is given their advice than is due their rank, and that the condition of the whole state depends [10] chiefly on their direction.³³

This has been disastrous for Holland.³⁴ [The rise of a plebeian to power in an aristocracy] can’t happen without arousing great envy among many of the elite. And of course we can’t doubt that a Senate whose wisdom is derived, not from the advice of the Senators, but from that of their ministers, will be populated mostly by those who lack skill. The condition of this state will be not much better than that of a Monarchic [15] state in which a few Counselors of the King govern. On this, see vi, 5–7.

But a state will be more or less liable to this evil, depending on how well it has been set up. If a state does not have firm enough foundations, its freedom is never defended without danger. To avoid this danger, [20] the Patricians choose from the plebeians ministers ambitious for glory. Afterward, when affairs take a different course, these men are killed, as a sacrifice, to appease the anger of those who plot against freedom.³⁵ Where the foundations of freedom are firm enough, the Patricians demand for themselves the glory of protecting it and make sure that the prudent direction of affairs is derived only from their advice.

[25] These are the two things³⁶ we’ve particularly observed in laying the foundations of this state, which require that:

[i] the plebeians should be excluded both from the councils and from voting (see §§3 and 4), and thus that

[ii] the supreme 'power of the state should rest with all the Patricians, whereas

[iii] authority should rest with the Syndics and the Senate; and finally,

[30] [iv] the right to convene the Senate, [to propose and discuss] matters [to be decided there] concerning the common well-being, [and to carry out the Senate’s decisions], should rest with Consuls selected from the Senate itself.³⁷

If it’s established, in addition, that

[v] the Secretaries in the Senate or the other Councils should be chosen for four or five years at most, and that they should have an assistant, [III/345] designated for the same period of time, who sometimes takes on part of the work, or if in the Senate there is, not one, but a number of Secretaries, of whom one is kept occupied with these matters, and another with those,

it will never happen that the power of the ministers will be of any moment.

45. The Treasury Officials should also be chosen from the plebeians [5] and should be required to give an account of their performance, not only to the Senate, but also to the Syndics.

46. In the Theological-Political Treatise we showed fully enough what we think about Religion. But at that time we did omit some things which that wasn’t the place to discuss: namely, that

[10] [1] all the Patricians ought to be of the same Religion, a very simple and most Universal Religion, such as we described in that Treatise.³⁸

For it’s very necessary to make sure that the Patricians aren’t divided into sects, some favoring one group, others favoring others, and that

[2] they don’t, in the grip of superstition, try to take away from their [15] subjects the freedom to say what they think.

Next, though everyone must be granted the freedom to say what he thinks, nevertheless

[3] large assemblies ought to be prohibited.

Thus

[4] those who are attached to another religion must certainly be allowed to build as many houses of worship as they wish, but these should be small, of some definite size, and at some distance from one another.

But it’s very important that

[20] [5] the temples dedicated to the national Religion be large and magnificent, and that only Patricians or Senators be permitted to officiate in their chief rituals. So

[6] only Patricians should be permitted to baptize, to consecrate a marriage, lay on hands, and unconditionally be recognized as Priests, and as defenders and interpreters of the national Religion.

On the other hand,

[25] [7] for preaching and administering the financial affairs of the church, and its daily business, the Senate should select some of the plebeians, who will be, as it were, the Senate’s representatives;

[8] for that reason they’ll be bound to render to the Senate an account of everything they do.

47. These are the things which concern the foundations of this state. [30] I’ll add a few others, which are less central, but still quite significant: namely, that the Patricians should go about in some clothing by which they can be recognized, that they should be greeted with some special title, and that each of the plebeians should yield his place to them. If one of the Patricians has lost his goods by some unavoidable misfortune, and can show this clearly, he should be made whole from the public [III/346] goods. But if it’s established that he’s squandered it through extravagance, arrogance, gambling, prostitutes, etc., or that he owes absolutely more than he can pay, he should give up his status and be considered unworthy of every honor and office. For someone who cannot manage [5] his private affairs will be much less able to consult the public interest.³⁹

48. Those whom the law compels to swear will be much more careful to avoid perjury if they’re commanded to swear by their country’s well-being and freedom, and by its supreme Council, than if they’re commanded to swear by God. He who swears by God pledges a private [10] good, whose value he estimates;⁴⁰ but he who pledges the freedom and well-being of his country swears by the common good of all, whose value he does not determine. If he perjures himself, he thereby declares himself the enemy of his country.

49. Academies supported at the expense of the State are instituted not so much to develop native abilities as to keep them in check. But [15] in a free Republic both the arts and the sciences are cultivated best if permission to teach publicly is granted to anyone seeking it, at the risk of his own resources and reputation. But I save these and similar things for another place. For here I had resolved to treat only those things pertaining to an Aristocratic state.

CHAPTER IX

[On Aristocracies with Several Cities]¹

1. Up to this point we’ve considered only the Aristocratic state which takes its name from one city, which is the capital of the whole state. Now it’s time to treat aristocracies which have several cities.² I think these are preferable to the previous kind. But to learn the difference [25] between them, and the ways each one is superior, we’ll review the foundations of the preceding state individually, reject those alien to this kind of state, and lay down others on which it ought to rest instead.

2. The cities which enjoy the right of Citizenship, then, must be so [30] established and fortified that none of them can make a stand alone, without the others, but also that none can secede from the others without great harm to the whole state. In this way they’ll always remain united. [III/347] But those cities set up so that they can neither preserve themselves, nor be a threat to the rest [by secession], are not their own masters, but absolutely subject to the control of the other cities.

3. The things we showed in viii, 9 and 10, are deduced from the common nature of an Aristocratic state, like the ratio of the number of [5] Patricians to the number of the multitude, and what ought to be the age and condition of those to be made Patricians. So whether the state has one city or several will make no difference about these things. But [where there are several cities] the nature of the supreme Council must [10] be different. For if any City in the state were designated for meetings of this supreme Council, that city would really be the capital of the state. So either the cities would have to take turns, or some place would have to be designated for this Council which does not have the right of Citizenship, and which belongs equally to all the cities.³ In each case: [15] easy to say, hard to do. Each solution requires many thousand men to frequently go outside their Cities, perhaps to meet now in one place, now in another.

4. But to draw the right conclusions about how this problem ought to be solved, and how the Councils of the state ought to be set up, given the nature and condition of this state, here’s what we must consider:

[20] [i] that the right of each City exceeds that of a private man as much as its power does (by ii, 4);

[ii] so each City in this state (see §2) has as much right within its walls, or the limits of its jurisdiction, as it has power;

[iii] that all the cities are combined with one another and united, not as [25] allies, but as constituting one state;

[iv] but in such a way that each city has greater right in the state than the others do just to the extent that its power is greater.

For to seek equality among unequals is to seek something absurd. The citizens are rightly thought equal, because the power of each one [30] is negligible compared to the power of the whole state. But the power of each city constitutes a great part of the power of the state itself, and a greater part as the city itself is greater.⁴ So, the cities cannot all be considered equal, but as the power of each city ought to be reckoned from its size, so also ought its right.

The ties by which they must be bound, so that they compose one [III/348] state, are chiefly (by iv, 1) the Senate and the court.⁵ But how all the cities are to be united by these ties in such a way that each one’s right nevertheless remains as great as it can be, I shall show here, briefly.

[5] 5. I conceive that in each city the Patricians, who ought to be more or fewer, in proportion to the size of the city (by §3), have the greatest right over their city. In the supreme Council of that city they have the supreme 'power to fortify the city, to expand its walls, impose taxes, [10] make and repeal laws, and do absolutely everything they judge to be necessary for the preservation and growth of the city.

Moreover, a Senate must be created to deal with the common business of the state, on the conditions we mentioned in the preceding Chapter, so that between this Senate and the one described there [15] there’s no difference other than that this one has the authority to settle disputes between the cities. For in this state, which has no capital, the supreme Council cannot do this, as it does in [an Aristocracy which has a capital].⁶ (See viii, 38.)

6. Moreover, in this state the supreme Council⁷ is not to be convened [20] unless it’s necessary to reform the state itself, or in some difficult business which the Senators believe themselves incapable of completing. So it will be quite rare for all the Patricians to be called into Council. For we’ve said that the principal function of the supreme Council is to make and repeal laws (Chapter 8, §17), and secondly, to choose [25] ministers of state. But the laws, or common rights of the whole state, ought not to be changed as soon as they’ve been made.

Nevertheless, if time and circumstances require some new law to be established, or one previously made to be changed, the Question can be considered first in the Senate. After the Senate has agreed on it, it [30] should next send representatives to the cities, who’ll explain the Senate’s decision to each city’s Patricians. And finally, if most cities agree with the Senate’s decision, it will remain valid. Otherwise, it will be null and void. This same procedure can be maintained in choosing generals for the army, in sending ambassadors to other governments, and in making [III/349] decisions whether to go to war or accept conditions for peace.

But in choosing the other ministers of state, a different procedure must be observed, because (as we showed in §4) each city ought to remain its own master as far as possible, and possess more right in proportion as it’s [5] more powerful than the others. The Patricians of each city must choose the Senators: that is, the Patricians of a city, in their Council, will choose from among their fellow Citizens a certain number of Senators, in a 1 to 12 ratio to the number of Patricians the city has (see viii, 30). And they’ll [10] designate the ones they wish to be of the first, second, or third rank, etc. In the same way the Patricians of the other cities will choose more or fewer Senators, in proportion to their own number, and distribute them into as many orders as we’ve said the Senate is to be divided (see viii, 34). So in each rank of Senators there’ll be more or fewer Senators, in [15] proportion to the size of each city.⁸ As for the presiding officers of the ranks and their Deputies, whose number is less than the number of cities, they must be chosen by lot, from those selected as consuls by the Senate.

The same procedure is to be retained in choosing the supreme Judges of the state. The Patricians of each city should choose from their colleagues [20] more or fewer judges, in proportion to their own number. The result will be that in choosing ministers each city is its own master, as far as possible, and the more powerful a city is, the greater is its right, both in the Senate and in the court, if the procedure in the Senate and the [25] court in deciding matters of state and settling disputes is entirely as we described in viii, 33, 34 [37 and 38].⁹

7. Next, commanders of companies and other army officers ought also to be selected from the Patricians. Because it’s fair that each city should be bound to assemble, in proportion to its size, and for the [30] common security of the whole state, a certain number of soldiers, it’s also fair that each city should be permitted to select, from its Patricians, as many officers, commanders, standard bearers, etc., as are required for organizing the part of the armed forces they’re supplying to the state, according to the number of regiments they’re bound to support.

8. The Senate must also not impose any taxes on the subjects, but [III/350] must call upon the cities themselves, not the subjects, to provide the funds necessary to carry out the public business it has decreed, so that each city must bear a greater or lesser part of the expenses, in proportion to its size. The Patricians of the city shall require that part from [5] the city-dwellers in whatever way they wish, either by assessing them according to their means, or what is much fairer, by imposing duties on them.

9. Next, even though not all the cities of this state are on the coast, and not all the Senators are drawn from coastal cities, nevertheless, we [10] can assign them the same recompense we mentioned in viii, 31. For this purpose we can devise means, in accordance with the constitution of the state, to unite the cities more closely with one another. Furthermore, the rest of the points we made in Chapter 8, concerning the Senate and the court, and the whole state, without qualification, are to be applied [15] to this state also. So we see that in a state which has several cities it’s not necessary to designate a definite time or place for convening the supreme Council. But a place for the Senate and the court to meet ought to be set aside in a village or city which does not have the right to vote. Now back to the things which concern the individual cities.

[20] 10. The procedure of a city’s supreme Council in choosing public officials for the city and the state, and in deciding on policies, ought to be the same as I indicated in viii, 27 and 36. For the reasoning is the same here as there. Second, subordinated to this Council, there ought to [25] be a Council of Syndics, which is related to the Council of the city as the Council of Syndics in Ch. 8 is related to the Council of the whole state, and whose function within the limits of the city’s jurisdiction is also the same, and enjoys the same recompense. But if the city, and hence the number of patricians, is so small that it can create only one [30] or two Syndics, who cannot by themselves make a Council, then either the supreme Council of the city ought to designate Judges to assist the Syndics in their inquiries as circumstances require, or else refer the problem to the supreme Council of Syndics. For from each city some of the Syndics also must be sent to the place where the Senate meets, to take care that the rights of the whole state are kept inviolate and to sit in the Senate, without a vote.

11. The Patricians of a city should also choose the Consuls of that [III/351] city, who constitute, as it were, the Senate of the city. I can’t determine the number of Consuls, but I don’t think it’s necessary, since the affairs of the city which are of great weight will be dealt with thoroughly by its supreme Council, and those which concern the state as a whole, by [5] the great Senate. Besides, if they’re few, it will be necessary for them to vote openly in their Council, not secretly, as in the large Councils. For in small Councils, when the votes are cast secretly, someone who is a bit shrewder than the others can easily learn the author of each vote and outmaneuver the less attentive in many ways.

[10] 12. Furthermore, the supreme Council of each city must establish Judges, whose opinion can nevertheless be appealed to the supreme judgment of the state, unless the person’s guilt is proven unambiguously and he confesses his guilt. But there’s no need to pursue these matters further.

13. What remains, then, is for us to say something about cities which [15] are not their own masters. If these are built in the territory of the state, and their inhabitants are of the same nation and language, they must, like villages, be counted as parts of the neighboring cities, so that each of them must be under the government of some city which is its own master. For the Patricians aren’t chosen by the supreme Council of the [20] state, but by the supreme Council of each city. In each city this Council has more or fewer members in proportion to the number of inhabitants within the limits of its jurisdiction (by §5). So the multitude of a city which is not its own master must be recorded in the census of a multitude which is, and must depend on its governance.

[25] But as for cities taken by the right of war and added to the state, either they ought to be considered as Allies of the state, won over and put under an obligation by favorable treatment, or else Colonies should be sent there, which will enjoy the right of Citizenship (while the original inhabitants are sent elsewhere), or else the cities should be completely destroyed.¹⁰

14. These are the matters which concern the foundations of this [30] state. That its condition is better than that of [an Aristocratic state] which takes its name from only one city, I infer from the fact that the Patricians of each city, having the usual human desires, will be eager to retain their right, both in the city and in the Senate, and if possible, to increase it. So they’ll strive, as much as they can, to draw the multitude to them, and consequently to move the state more by [III/352] benefits than by fear, and to increase their own number. Of course, the more of them there are, the more Senators they’ll elect from their Council (by ix, 6), and as a result (by ix, 6, again), the more right they’ll have in the state.

It’s no objection that, while each city consults its own interest and [5] is jealous of the others, they frequently quarrel with one another and waste time arguing. Some will remind us of the saying “while the Romans deliberate, Saguntum is lost.”¹¹ On the other hand, when the few decide everything, simply on the basis of their own affects, freedom and the common good are lost. For human wits are too sluggish to penetrate everything right away. But by asking advice, listening, and [10] arguing, they’re sharpened. When people try all means, in the end they find ways to the things they want which everyone approves, and no one had ever thought of before. [NS: We’ve seen many examples of this in Holland.]¹²

But if someone retorts that this state of the Hollanders has not lasted long without a Count, or a Representative who could act in his place,¹³ I would reply: the Hollanders thought that to maintain¹⁴ their [15] freedom it was enough to renounce their Count and cut the head off the body of the state. They didn’t think about reforming it, but left all its members as they’d been set up before, so that Holland¹⁵ remained a county without a Count, or a body without a head, and the state itself remained without a name.

So it’s not at all strange that most subjects didn’t know who possessed [20] the supreme 'power of the state.¹⁶ Even if this hadn’t been so, those who really had the authority were far too few to be able to govern the multitude and overcome powerful opponents. The result was that their opponents were often able to plot against them with impunity and eventually to overthrow them. The sudden overthrow of the Republic [25] did not result from the fact that it wasted time in useless deliberations, but from the defective constitution of the state and the small number of its regents.¹⁷

15. Another reason an Aristocratic state where several cities share the rule is to be preferred to one where they don’t is that there’s no [30] need, as in Ch. 8, to guard against its general supreme Council being overpowered by a sudden attack, since (by ix, 9) there’s no time or place designated for convening it.¹⁸

Furthermore, in this state powerful citizens are less to be feared. For where several cities enjoy freedom, it’s not enough for someone who’s trying to get control to occupy one city, in order to secure rule over the rest.

[III/353] Finally in this state freedom is common to more men. For where one city alone rules, the good of the others is considered only insofar as it serves the interests of the ruling city.

[III/353] CHAPTER X

[On the Fall of Aristocracies]¹

[5] 1. Now that we’ve explained and shown the foundations of each kind of Aristocratic state, it remains to ask whether they can, from some inherent defect, be dissolved or changed into another form. The primary cause for the dissolution of states of this kind is the one that most acute Florentine² noted in Bk. III, Disc. i, of his Discourses on [10] Titus Livy, namely that in the state, as in the human body, “something is added daily which eventually requires treatment.”³ So it’s necessary, he says, that at some time something happens which returns a state to the principle on which it was established. If this return doesn’t happen when it should, the defects [of the state] increase to the point where they can’t be removed unless the state itself is removed with them. The [15] return, he says, can happen by chance or by the judgment and wisdom either of the laws or of a man of outstanding excellence.

We can’t doubt that this is a matter of the greatest importance. If there’s been no provision for dealing with this problem, the state won’t be able to last by its own excellence, but only by good luck. On the other hand, when a suitable remedy for this evil has been adopted, not [20] only will it not fall by its own defect, it will fall only by some inevitable fate. We’ll soon make this quite clear.

The first remedy people thought of for this evil was that every few years they would appoint, for a few months,⁴ a supreme Dictator who would have the authority to investigate, judge, and decide on any punishments for the deeds of Senators and public officials, thereby restoring [25] the state to its founding principle. But those who are anxious to avoid the disadvantages of sovereignty ought to adopt remedies which agree with the nature of the state and can be deduced from its foundations. Otherwise, in their effort to escape Charybdis, they fall into Scylla.

It’s true that everyone—the rulers as well as the ruled—must be [30] kept in bounds by the fear of punishment or loss, so that they’re not allowed to sin with impunity, or even with profit. On the other hand, it’s also certain that if this fear is common to both good men and bad, the state will be in the greatest danger. So since Dictatorial 'power is [III/354] absolute, it can’t be anything but terrifying to everyone, especially if (as is required) the Dictator is appointed at a fixed time. Then everyone eager to be esteemed would seek this honor most zealously. Certainly since excellence is not valued as highly in peace as wealth is, the grander [5] a man is, the more easily he’ll achieve honors.

Perhaps this is why the Romans didn’t usually appoint a Dictator at a designated time, but only when some chance need forced them to. Even so, as Cicero says, “talk of a Dictator was unpleasant to good men.”⁵ Truly, since this Dictatorial 'power is absolutely Royal, the state [10] can’t be changed for a time into a Monarchy without great danger to the Republic, however short the time is. Moreover, if no definite time has been designated for appointing a Dictator, there would be no reason to take account of the time between one Dictator and another. But we said this ought to be preserved most carefully.

[15] Because the matter is also quite ill-defined, it may easily be neglected. So, unless this Dictatorial 'power is permanent and stable—in which case it can’t be entrusted to one man without changing the form of the state—it will be very uncertain. As a result, the well-being and preservation of the Republic will also be uncertain.

2. On the other hand, (by vi, 3) we can’t doubt that if it’s possible [20] to make the sword of the Dictator perpetual, and a terror only to bad men, and at the same time to preserve the state’s form, then the [state’s] defects could never become so great that they can’t be removed or corrected. To achieve all these conditions, we’ve said that the Council of Syndics ought to be subordinated to the supreme Council, so that [25] dictatorial sword would be perpetual, not in the hands of some natural person, but in the hands of a civil person, whose members are so numerous that they can’t divide the state among themselves (by viii, 1 and 2) or agree in any crime.

In addition, [the Syndics] are prohibited from assuming other offices of the state, they don’t pay the armed forces, and they’re of an age [30] when they prefer things present and safe to things new and dangerous. So there’s no danger to the state from them. They can’t be a terror to good men, but only to bad men. And they will be. The less power they have to commit crimes, the more they’ll have to restrain wickedness. Not only can they oppose the beginnings [of a threat] (because the [III/355] Council is permanent), they’re also numerous enough that they’ll dare to accuse and condemn this or that powerful man without fear of [his] ill will, especially since the votes are cast secretly, and the sentence is pronounced in the name of the whole Council.

3. But [it may be objected] in Rome the Tribunes of the plebeians [5] were permanent, yet they couldn’t suppress the power of a Scipio.⁶ Moreover, they had to refer what they judged to be salutary to the Senate for decision. Often the Senate frustrated them, so that the plebeians favored more the [Tribune] the Senators feared less. In addition, the authority of the Tribunes against the Patricians was defended by [10] the support of the plebeians. Whenever they called upon the plebeians, they seemed to promote sedition rather than convene a Council. These disadvantages have no place in the state we’ve described in the preceding two Chapters.

4. However, the authority of the Syndics can only see that the form [15] of the state is preserved. So it can prevent people from breaking the laws, and from being allowed to sin profitably. It can’t see to it that vices the law can’t prevent won’t flare up, like those men fall into when they have too much leisure. These vices often lead to the ruin of the [20] state. In peace, when fear has been set aside, men gradually change from being savage and warlike to being political or civilized, and from being civilized, they become soft and lazy. One tries to surpass another, not in excellence, but in arrogance and extravagant living. As a result, they begin to treat their native customs with disdain, and take on foreign fashions—that is, they begin to become slaves.

5. To avoid these evils many have tried to pass sumptuary laws, [25] but in vain. For all laws which can be violated without wronging anyone else are objects of derision. Far from reining in men’s desires and lusts, they make them stronger. We always strive to have what is prohibited, and desire what we’re denied. And even idle men are clever enough to get around laws concerning things which can’t be [30] absolutely prohibited, such as banquets, games, adornments, and other things of that kind, which are only evil in the excess. What is excessive must be judged by each person’s wealth; so it can’t be determined by any universal law.

6. I conclude, then, that those common vices of peace which we’re speaking about here should never be prohibited directly, but only indirectly, [III/356] by laying down foundations of the state which will result, not in most people being eager to live wisely—that’s impossible—but in their being guided by affects more advantageous to the Republic. So what’s most desirable is that the rich, if they aren’t thrifty, should still be [5] greedy. There’s no doubt that if this affect of greed, which is universal and constant, is fostered by an eagerness to be esteemed, most people will put their greatest zeal into increasing their possessions without disgrace. That way they achieve honors and avoid the greatest shame.

7. If we pay close attention, then, to the foundations of the kinds of [10] Aristocratic state I’ve explained in the two preceding Chapters, we’ll see that this result follows from them. For in each state the number of regents is so great that most of the rich have access to rule and to achieving the honors of the state. But if it’s established in addition (as we said in viii, 47) that Patricians who’ve borrowed more than they can [15] pay will be expelled from the Patrician order, whereas those who’ve lost their possessions by misfortune will be restored to their place, there’s no doubt that everyone will try as hard as possible to preserve their possessions. Moreover, they’ll never desire foreign dress, or scorn that of their native land, if the law establishes that the Patricians, and those [20] who seek offices, are distinguished by special clothing. (On this see viii, 25 and 47.) Besides these [devices], in each state we can think of others which are agreeable to the nature of the place and the mentality of the people, and take special care that the subjects do their duty voluntarily rather than because the law compels them to.

8. For a state which provides only fear as the motive for men’s actions [25] will lack vices rather than possess virtue. Men must be so led that they seem to themselves not to be led, but to live according to their own mentality and from their free decision, so that they’re restrained only by love of freedom, the desire to increase their possessions, and the hope of achieving honors. Portraits, triumphs, and other incentives to [30] virtue are signs of bondage, not freedom. Rewards for virtue are decreed for slaves, not free men.

I concede, of course, that these incentives spur men on more than any others. But in the beginning they’re decreed for great men; later, as envy increases, they’re granted to ignoble men, puffed up by the size of their fortunes—to the immense indignation of all good men. Furthermore, those who boast of the triumphs and portraits of their [III/357] parents believe they themselves are wronged if they’re not preferred to others. Finally, not to mention other things, this is certain: once equality has been set aside, the common freedom necessarily perishes, and there’s no way equality can be preserved once the public law awards special honors to some man famous for his excellence.

[5] 9. Now that we’ve established these points, let’s see whether states of this kind can be destroyed by some inherent defect. Surely, if any state can be everlasting, it must be one whose laws, once properly established, remain inviolate. For the laws are the soul of the state. So if they are preserved, the state itself is necessarily preserved. But [10] laws can’t be unshaken unless they’re defended both by reason and by men’s common affects; otherwise, if they rest only on the support of reason, they are of course weak and easily overcome. So since we’ve shown that the fundamental laws of each Aristocratic state agree both with reason and with the common affect of men, we can maintain that [15] if any state is everlasting, this one must be everlasting, or that it can’t be destroyed by any inherent defect, but only by some inevitable fate.

10. But here’s another objection someone might make: although the laws of the state presented here may be defended both by reason and by a common affect of men, they can still sometimes be overcome. For [20] there’s no affect which isn’t sometimes overcome by a stronger, contrary affect. We see that the fear of death is often vanquished by the desire for someone else’s property. Those who flee an enemy, overawed by fear, can’t be restrained by fear of anything else, but rush headlong into rivers or into a fire, to escape their enemies’ steel. So, however properly a commonwealth may be organized, and however well its laws [25] may be set up, still, in the greatest crises of the state, when everyone is seized by panic, as often happens, then everyone approves only what the present fear urges, without giving any consideration to the future or to the laws. All heads turn toward a Man who is famous for his victories. They release him from the laws and (a very bad precedent) continue [30] his command, entrusting the whole Republic to his good faith. That’s why the Roman state perished.⁷

To reply to this Objection I say, first, that in a properly constituted Republic a terror like that doesn’t arise except from some just cause. So that terror, and the confusion stemming from it, can’t be ascribed to any cause human prudence can avoid.

[III/358] Next, it must be noted that in a Republic such as we’ve described in the preceding chapters⁸ it can’t happen (by viii, 9 and 25) that one man or another has such an outstanding reputation for excellence that all heads turn toward him. On the contrary, he must have several [5] rivals, whom many others support. So however much confusion may arise from terror in a Republic, still, no one will be able to cheat the laws and declare someone elected to military command contrary to law without an immediate dispute from those who want someone else. To settle this dispute it will eventually be necessary to go back to the things established previously, to laws everyone has approved, and to order the affairs of the state according to these laws.

[10] I can assert unconditionally, then, that both a state which one city alone controls, and especially a state which several cities control, is everlasting, or can’t be dissolved or changed into another form by any internal cause.

CHAPTER XI

[On Democracy]¹

1. I come, finally, to the third, and completely absolute state, which we [15] call Democratic.² We’ve said that the difference between this state and an Aristocratic one consists chiefly in this: that in an Aristocratic state it depends only on the will and free Choice of the supreme Council that this or that person is made a Patrician. So no one has a hereditary right to vote or stand for political offices, and no one can demand this [20] right for himself by law, as happens in the state we’re now discussing. For [in a Democracy] everyone whose parents were citizens, or who was born on the country’s soil, or who has deserved well of the Republic, or who has the right to be a citizen for any other reasons on account of which the Law commands that someone be granted the right of a citizen—all such people, I say, rightly demand for themselves the right to vote in the supreme Council and to stand³ for political offices. They [25] can be denied this only on account of a crime or disgrace.⁴

2. So suppose it’s established by law that only Elders who’ve reached a certain age, or only firstborn sons (as soon as their age permits), or only those who contribute a certain sum of money to the Republic, can have the right to vote in the supreme Council, and to manage [30] the business of the state. The result of such a law could be that the supreme Council is composed of fewer citizens than the Council of an Aristocratic state of the kinds we’ve discussed. Nevertheless, states of this kind ought to be called Democratic. For their citizens, who are destined to govern the Republic, are not chosen by the supreme [III/359] Council as the best, but are destined for this status by law.

States of this kind—where it’s not the best who are destined to rule, but those who, perhaps by a lucky chance, are rich or eldest sons—may seem inferior to an Aristocratic state. But if we consider actual life, or [5] the common condition of men, the result will be the same. For the men who seem best to the Patricians will always be the rich, or their own close relatives, or their friends. Of course, if Patricians were the kind of people who, in choosing colleagues, were free of every affect, and guided only by zeal for the public well-being, there would be no [10] state to compare with an Aristocracy. But experience has shown abundantly that things don’t work that way—especially in oligarchies, where the will of the Patricians is least bound by the law, because they lack rivals. For there the Patricians, in a partisan spirit, keep the best men off the Council, and seek comrades on it who will hang on their every [15] word. In such a state things go much less fortunately [than they do in a Democracy], because the Selection of the Patricians depends on the absolute free will of certain men, or a will unconstrained by any law. But let’s go back to where I started.

3. From what we said in xi, 2, it’s evident that we can conceive different [20] kinds of Democratic state. I don’t plan to discuss each one, but only one in which absolutely everyone who is bound only by the laws of his native land, and who is, furthermore, his own master and lives honorably, has the right to vote in the supreme Council and to stand for political offices. I say, explicitly, who is bound only by the laws of his [25] native land,⁵ to exclude foreigners, who are counted as under someone else’s control. I added, furthermore, that apart from the fact that they are bound by the laws of the state, in other things they are their own masters, to exclude women and servants, who are under the 'power of their husbands and masters, and also children and pupils, so long as they are under the 'power of their parents and tutors. Finally, I said, and who [30] live honorably, to exclude especially those who are disgraced on account of a crime or some shameful kind of life.

4. But perhaps someone will ask whether women are under the 'power of their husbands by nature or by custom. If this has happened only by custom, then no reason compels us to exclude women from rule. But if we consult experience, we’ll see that this occurs only because [III/360] of their weakness.

Wherever we find men and women [living together], they have never ruled together. What we see is that there the men rule and the women are ruled, and that in this way both sexes live in harmony. On [5] the other hand, the Amazons, who according to tradition⁶ once ruled, did not allow men to remain on their soil, but raised only the females, and killed the males they bore.

If women were by nature equal to men, both in strength of character and in native intelligence—in which the greatest human power, and [10] consequently right, consists—surely among so many and such diverse nations we would find some where each sex ruled equally, and others where men were ruled by women, and so educated that they could do less with their native intelligence. But since this has not happened anywhere, we can say without reservation that women do not, by nature, [15] have a right equal to men’s, but that they necessarily submit to men. So it cannot happen that each sex rules equally, much less that men are ruled by women.

Furthermore, if we consider human affects, namely, that for the most part men love women only from an affect of lust, and that they judge their native intelligence and wisdom greater the more beautiful [20] they are, and furthermore, that men find it intolerable that the women they love should favor others in some way, etc.,⁷ we’ll have no difficulty seeing that men and women can’t rule equally without great harm to the peace. But enough of these matters.

The rest is lacking.

1. NS: een Staat. OP: Societas.

2. NS: Veiligheid. OP: Libertas. Cf. i, 6; vii, 15.

3. Francès argued (Pléiade 1485–88) that this subtitle, which also appears on the title page, should be attributed to the editors of the OP. Perhaps not all of her arguments are convincing (cf. Dominguez 1986b, 74). But the conclusion seems right. Most of the language of the subtitle is drawn from Letter 84. Since I am persuaded by Akkerman (1980, 272–73) that the unnamed addressee of Letter 84 was probably Jarig Jelles, and that Letter 84 was probably written in Dutch, and translated into Latin for the OP by Meyer, I take the NS version of that letter to be the one to translate, noting places where the OP varies significantly.

4. This title is supplied from Letter 84.

5. This introductory chapter is reminiscent of Machiavelli, with its emphasis on the need for realism about human nature. Cf. the praise at v, 7, and x, 1, with The Prince, xv, or the Discourses I, iii. Spinoza had a copy of More’s Utopia in his library, and no doubt has him in mind as an example of a theoretician. This may be unfair to More, who had served for more than ten years in Parliament before he wrote Utopia, and had a largely successful career in politics, rising to be a Privy Councillor, Speaker of the House, and ultimately Lord Chancellor of England, before his conflict with Henry VIII led to his execution. Some themes in this paragraph repeat the ideas of the Preface to Part III of the Ethics. The reference to the golden age of the poets recalls Ovid’s Metamorphoses (I, 89ff.), among other possibilities. For a close analysis of the first two sections of this chapter, emphasizing its relation to Aquinas, see Matheron 1978.

6. Cf. Tacitus, Histories IV, lxxiv, 2. It’s ironic that Spinoza, so often characterized as an a priori theorist, should put as much emphasis as he does on arguments from experience generally, and history in particular. Cf. vii, 14, 17.

7. Wernham cites a line from Machiavelli which we might translate: “a republic and a people are governed differently than a private citizen.” Contrast Erasmus: “What must be implanted deeply and before all else in the mind of the prince is the best possible understanding of Christ. He should be constantly absorbing his teachings. . . . Let him become convinced of this, that what Christ teaches applies to no one more than to the prince.” Erasmus, Education, 13. As early as Boccaccio (Decameron I, ix), Renaissance authors questioned whether we would want our rulers to act as the gospels seem to dictate (the issue in that case being whether a ruler should patiently suffer wrongs done to himself or to those within his territories).

8. Spinoza has been criticized for assuming that there are only three kinds of state to be considered, but this is an assumption he shares with both Hobbes (Leviathan xix, 1) and Tacitus (Annales IV, xxxiii) (Proietti).

9. Zac compares the similar thought in Aristotle, Politics 1264a1–5.

10. OP: aut, or. NS: en, and. Gebhardt follows the OP, but Wernham and Proietti, rightly, I think, emend on the basis of the NS. Spinoza will reiterate the idea of deducing his conclusions from human nature in i, 7; iii, 18; and vii, 2.

11. Cf. Hobbes: “The science of establishing and preserving commonwealths has definite and infallible rules, no less than arithmetic and geometry.” Leviathan xx, 19. See also Machiavelli, Discourses I, xxxix, for the assumption that because human nature always involves the same affects, we can use our knowledge of the past to predict what problems are apt to arise, and how we can deal with them. But as Zac observes, Spinoza, unlike Machiavelli, has the notion of organizing his theory of human nature into a deductive system. And he finds joy in understanding the truth scientifically, even if the truth is unpleasant.

12. The bracketed references in this paragraph have been suggested by several previous editors. If the first is correct, then Spinoza is somewhat careless of the distinction between affectus and passio. Cf. E IV P37S2, II/237/29. But as Moreau noted, regarding TP i, 1, there is no discussion of active affects in the TP.

13. The OP and Gebhardt read ceu here, but the NS has of (= seu), which most editors agree is right. Gebhardt (V, 134) calls attention to a passage in De la Court’s Polityke Weeg-schaal, which warns in similar terms against assuming, in designing a political system, that the rulers will be virtuous (Van Hove 1661, 138).

14. Perhaps Spinoza is here trying to resolve the tension in the TTP between iii, 20, and xx, 12. It will resurface in TP v, 2 and 5.

15. The OP, Gebhardt, and Proietti all read causas. But Wernham and Bartuschat are surely correct to read causae.

16. Cf. vi, 1.

17. Wernham comments that here Spinoza abandons his “original belief in an historical social contract,” found in TTP xvi, 12–28. The only contract he sees in the TP is a contract of government (iv, 6). See the extended discussion of this topic in Matheron 1969, 307–30, supplemented by Matheron 1990.

1. Supplied from Letter 84.

2. See TTP xvi, 2–11, 40–42; E IV P37S2, IV PP67–73, V P1–P20S. Spinoza may give the impression that this chapter merely summarizes his previous work with respect to these topics. But on some topics he clearly goes beyond anything he had said earlier (e.g., in his discussion of sin in §6).

3. As elsewhere in Spinoza, producing an argument he conceives as demonstrative does not require the formal apparatus of a Euclidean demonstration.

4. Proietti refers us to E I P24 for the first three sentences of this paragraph. The phrase essentia idealis does not occur there (or anywhere else in the Ethics). In the texts included in Volume I it occurs explicitly only in Letter 17 (IV/77/9–78/14). Zac suggests that Letter 9 may also be helpful in understanding Spinoza’s concept of an ideal essence.

5. This was a recurrent theme in the TTP. Cf. i, 44 and the passages cited there.

6. Cf. Grotius: “natural right is the dictate of right reason, indicating that some act has either moral turpitude or moral necessity in it, arising from its disagreement or agreement with man’s rational and social nature, and hence has been forbidden or commanded by God” (Grotius 1625/2005, I, i, 10). Hobbes’ definition avoids any obviously moral notions: it is “a liberty each man hath to use his own power, as he will himself, for the preservation of his own nature . . . and consequently, of doing anything which, in his own judgment and reason he shall conceive to be the aptest means thereunto” (Leviathan xiv, 1). Hobbes thinks the striving for self-preservation is necessary (and hence, not reprehensible). Cf. DC i, 7. In Spinoza this is generalized to anything we do in consequence of the laws of nature, i.e., anything we do.

7. The argument of TP ii, 3–4 reprises that of TTP xvi, 3–4, with interesting variations. See Matheron 1985, 1986, both reprinted in Matheron 2011. It’s natural to compare Spinoza’s thought here with that of Hobbes (e.g., in DC i, 14; Leviathan xxxi, 5), though there are notable differences: Hobbes does not make the Spinozistic assumption that the power of natural things is the power of God; he does not extend his conclusions about natural right to everything in nature; he does emphasize that men are by nature so equal in power, that there can be no dominion in the state of nature (Leviathan xiii, 1); and he operates with a different conception of natural law, as a “dictate of right reason” concerning the means to self-preservation (DC ii, 1; Leviathan xiv, 3). Spinoza, by contrast, speaks of the laws of the individual’s nature, presumably thinking of these as following from the more general laws of human nature outlined in E III (in conjunction with facts about the constitution and history of this individual).

8. An allusion to Juvenal X, 351, to be repeated in ii, 6 (Proietti).

9. Ramond notes that this is the only occurrence in the TP of the term passio.

10. Cf. Cicero, De finibus III, 5–6, IV, 7; Diogenes Laertius VII, 85; and Augustine, City of God XI, xxvii.

11. Cf. E IV P4.

12. Cf. E III Pref.; V, Pref.

13. Alluding to Juvenal X, 356.

14. Another allusion to Virgil’s Eclogues ii, 65, also cited in TTP xvi, 22.

15. The doctrines attributed to the Theologians here—that as originally created by God, man had the power, if he chose, to live according to reason, that he lost that power by his disobedience, that he disobeyed because the Devil (through Eve) deceived him, that the Devil was good by nature, but was made evil by his own fault, and that as a result of Adam’s sin, it became impossible for his progeny not to sin—go back at least to Augustine. Gebhardt (V, 134–35) notes that Spinoza owned a sixteenth-century epitome of Augustine’s works, from which his account of Augustine’s teaching was probably derived. Modern readers may find it more convenient to consult Augustine, The City of God, Bks. XI–XIV (included in Augustine 1990). Gebhardt identifies Calvin as a second theologian who held views of the kind Spinoza criticizes. Cf. his Institutes (I, i, 1; xv; II, i, ii). The Dutch Reformed Church embraced these views at the Synod of Dort. See the Canons of the Synod of Dort (Creeds and Confessions of Faith II, 583–88).

16. Spinoza has previously discussed the fall in Letter 19 (Volume I, 357–61), E IV P68S, and TTP ii, 32, iv, 26–27, and 38–39.

17. For an earlier discussion of the Devil, see KV II, xxv.

18. Cf. Letter 21, to Blijenbergh, IV/130.

19. Cf. E I D7, P17C and S.

20. Concludimus itaque, in potestate uniuscuiusque hominis non esse ratione semper uti, & in summo humanae libertatis fastigio esse. Translations vary. Some take it to say that not everyone has the power to consistently be guided by reason. That would allow that many (perhaps even most people) might have it. I don’t think Spinoza was that optimistic about our capacity for rationality. I take it (in agreement, I think, with Wernham) that Spinoza thinks no one has that power. On my reading, the most he would grant is that some people (probably only a few) are predominantly guided by reason, but that even those people are not consistently rational. Most people most of the time are ruled by their affects. I take this to be Spinoza’s ground for thinking that in every age virtue is extremely rare. See TTP Pref., 14, and xii, 7; and TP ii, 6, and 18, and vi, 6. Cf. E IV, App. vii, xxxii. But this is optimistic by comparison with what some theologians hold. For Spinoza good men may be rare, but they do exist. For Calvin, on the other hand, fallen man is so corrupt that he can do no good. His reason is not so weak that it cannot distinguish between good and evil, but his will is so much a slave to wicked desires that it cannot strive for anything right. All human desires are evil. See Institutes II, i, 8, 9; ii, 12; III, iii, 12. Doctrines of this kind have a long history in the Christian tradition, going back at least to Paul’s letter to the Romans. See particularly 3:9–18 and 7:14–25. The first of these passages consists of numerous quotations from the Hebrew Bible, so the doctrines are not peculiarly Christian. Note, though, that recent interpretations of Paul emphasize more positive aspects of his thought. See Stendahl 1963 or Sanders 1977. It is not obvious that Paul is consistent. In Curley 2015b I’ve argued that he may have evolved, and that Romans may represent a later, more pessimistic view than earlier letters.

21. infinitis aliis. The NS supplies dingen (= rebus, things) here, but it seems that it would be more precise to understand legibus.

22. For an alternate presentation of the argument of this paragraph, cf. TTP xvi, 7–11.

23. Proietti notes a number of allusions in this passage to Terence (particularly to his Brothers). Zac suggests that we should read this passage with Spinoza’s psychological analysis of superstition in mind (TTP Pref., esp. §§1–11), that Spinoza would think rulers (or those who aspired to rule) could enslave their followers by manipulating their willingness to accept superstitious beliefs.

24. Cf. Hobbes, DC I, vii; TTP, ADN. XXXIII, at III/195; and TTP xx, 4.

25. Cf. Hobbes, DCv I, ix, II, vii, xi; Leviathan xiv, 15, 18, xv, 5; TTP xvi, 15–20. On some of the difficulties regarding Spinoza’s treatment of promises, see Garrett 1990.

26. PR compare Leviathan x, 3, and E IV P18S. Both these passages contain the thought that individuals can increase their power by joining forces; neither includes the thought that the right of a collective is proportional to the combined power of its members.

27. Cf. E IV App. x.

28. Cf. Hobbes, DCv I, xii.

29. Cf. Hobbes, DCv I, x–xi; X, i.

30. A theme which will come back, generalized to the state, at iii, 9.

31. Spinoza’s initial discussion of the benefits of forming a social order in TTP iii, 13–14, had emphasized its necessity as a means to living securely. Returning to the topic in TTP v, 18–20, he stressed the economic advantages of living in a social order and its necessity for the cultivation of the arts and sciences, critical means to the perfection of our nature. (This was not sufficient to prevent Steno from criticizing him for making everything about security. See IV/292.)

32. Reading vendicare for the OP’s vindicare at III/281/25, as suggested by Akkerman, Proietti, and Cristofolini.

33. See, for example, various passages in Aquinas: SCG IIIb, 85, 117, 129, 131, 147; ST I-II, Q 61, A 5; Q 72, A 4; Q 95, A 4; Q 109, A 3. The idea apparently originates in Aristotle, Politics I, ii, though Seneca (De clementia I, iii, 2; De beneficiis VII, i, 7) is also an important source for the scholastics. It occurs in Calvin (Institutes II, ii, 13), but is challenged in Hobbes, DCv I, ii; V, v. See also Spinoza’s discussion in E IV P35S.

34. The first occurrence of language which will be central to the political theory of this work. Gebhardt (V, 139) traced its origin back to words attributed to Asinius Gallus in Tacitus (Annals I, xii), where Gallus is supposed to have argued, after Augustus’ death, that Tiberius should assume all the powers Augustus had wielded, because the state needs to be ruled by one mind. Tiberius expressed doubt about his ability to do that. What distinguishes Spinoza’s characteristic formula is the “as if” (veluti). He doesn’t think it desirable, or even possible, for the affairs of the state to be entrusted entirely to one man (vi, 3–7). But he thinks it highly desirable for them to be conducted as if by one mind. Cf. ii, 15–16, 21; iii, 2, 5, 7; iv, 1; vi, 1; viii, 6, 19.

35. As Ramond notes, this paragraph demonstrates the ambiguity of imperium. In its first occurrence, translated “sovereignty,” it designates a kind of right. In its second, translated “state,” it is used to classify the different forms of government.

36. Cf. Hobbes, DCv vi, 18; Leviathan xviii, 16.

37. Cf. Hobbes, DCv xiv, xvi–xvii; Leviathan xiii, 10; E IV P37S2.

38. Cf. TTP xvi, 7–11.

39. Both the OP and the NS have a reference to §18 at this point, though it’s difficult to see the relevance of that paragraph to this sentence, which mentions the laws of the best state for the first time. Wernham (followed by Bartuschat 1994) omits it, suspecting a typesetter’s error in reading an unclear manuscript. The (correct) citation of §18 in the next sentence may have caused some confusion. Proietti conjectures that Spinoza may have intended a reference to iii, 7.

40. Cf. Rom. 9:21, discussed in TTP xvi, 53 (ADN. XXXIV), and Letters 75 and 78.

41. An amplification of the argument of TTP iv, 23–37. See the annotation there.

42. Cf. Hobbes, Leviathan xiii, 13; DC xii, 1.

43. OP: vendicandi. Gebhardt would emend to vindicandi, but this is a mistake. On this see the Glossary entry CLAIM.

44. The formula is found in Ulpian (see Justinian, Digest I, i, 10) and Aquinas (ST II-II, lviii, 1), and criticized in Hobbes (Leviathan xv, 3).

45. The definitions of praise and blame which Spinoza gave in E III P29S were in fact different.

1. Supplied from Letter 84.

2. Zac usefully contrasts this way of distinguishing between citizens and subjects with Rousseau’s (Of the Social Contract I, vi). Spinoza defines the citizen, not by his participation in sovereign authority, but by his participation in the benefits of the civil order.

3. Perhaps it would have been more to the point for Spinoza to cite TP ii, 17 here. In any case, all of §§15–17 of the preceding chapter are relevant.

4. In a letter to Jarig Jelles, dated June 1674 (Letter 50, IV/238–39), Spinoza identified this as the difference between himself and Hobbes. Cf. Leviathan xvii, 13.

5. On the doctrine of this and the following paragraph, cf. Hobbes, Leviathan xxvi, 20–23; xxx, 14.

6. OP: decernendi. NS: onderscheiden. PR would emend the text to discernendi, for reasons I find unconvincing. It’s true that in a parallel passage in the TTP (Pref., §32, III/11/34) the verb is discernere (and the NS there has onderscheiden). But this seems an insufficient reason to alter the text, given the presence of decernere and cognates later in this passage and again in iv, 1, in what is evidently a reference back to this passage. Since they maintain that the two terms have “quasiment le même sens,” the change does not seem necessary for the passage to make sense. And they don’t make it, in similar circumstances, in iv, 1.

7. The OP and NS both read: “so long as men are subject to affects (by ii, 15), i.e. (by i, 5), reason denies that this can happen.” Most editors seem to have accepted this text. But I think Wernham was right to emend the references.

8. Though the general argument of iii, 6, is reminiscent of Hobbes’ Leviathan (xviii, 20), at this point Spinoza takes himself to be disagreeing with Hobbes. Cf. TTP ADN. XXXIII, at III/195/4.

9. Meijer plausibly suspected an allusion to the Catholic doctrine of the Eucharist.

10. Cf. Hobbes, DC ii, 18–19; Leviathan xiv, 29, xxi, 11–25. But as Zac observed, though Hobbes granted subjects a right to resist such commandments, he did not deny the sovereign the right to issue them. Cf. also TTP xvii, 2.

11. Wernham suggests that Spinoza may be thinking here of the Mennonites, who objected, on religious grounds, to military service.

12. This phrase does not appear in either the OP or the NS, but PR are surely right to add it to the text on the basis of vi, 1. The pairing of these affects is Spinoza’s standard practice. They cite iii, 3, and v, 6.

13. Madeleine Francès saw this paragraph (with iv, 4) as justifying a right of rebellion against tyranny. It seems unlikely that Spinoza would have wished to put it that way. Cf. v, 7. In the TTP (xvi, 48) he is quite critical of those who try to seize power from their rulers. The subsequent history of Dutch politics would probably not have made him any more comfortable with popular rebellions. But he would also hold, I think, that governments which use their power in ways which alienate large numbers of their citizens cannot legitimately complain if they face violent resistance.

14. I take it that this is a reference to §8, and that the objection arises from Spinoza’s Erastian subordination of the church to the state. Cf. TTP xix.

15. Cf. TTP xix, 3.

16. Referring to Mark 16:14–18.

17. The phrase oleum et opera is proverbial, and occurs in Plautus’ Poenulus 332.

18. Since Latin has no articles, nothing in it calls for either a definite or an indefinite article. The NS translator supplied an indefinite article. Since I understand Spinoza to be a pluralist, who thinks that many existing religions have an equal right to be considered true (because they are equally effective means of achieving salvation), I regard this as reasonable. But I leave the translation ambiguous. “The true religion,” for Spinoza, would be any religion which teaches the fundamental doctrines of the Jewish and Christian scriptures. Cf. TTP xii, 34–37. I’ve discussed these issues in Curley 2010.

19. Cf. Hobbes, DC xiii, 7, or Leviathan xiii, 12, xxx, 30.

20. Cf. TTP xvi, 15–19, 43–45 with The Prince, ch. xviii. Gebhardt (V, 91, 140) cites similar passages in De la Court and de Witt. The maxim salus populi suprema lex is embraced by Hobbes, DC xiii, 2; Leviathan xxx, 1.

21. Spinoza’s attitude toward promise-keeping seems much more relaxed here than it had been in E IV P72. For a useful discussion, see Garrett 1990.

1. Supplied from Letter 84.

2. OP: Jus summarum potestatum, quod earum potentia determinatur, in praec. Cap. ostendimus, idque in hoc potissimum consistere vidimus, nempe quòd imperii veluti mens sit. The NS translates the last clause: dat de Heerschappijen gelijk een ziel, of een geest zijn. If that’s correct, we should have sint instead of sit. Wernham emended his text accordingly. But his translation—“it was, so to speak, the mind of the state”—takes the verb to be singular, seeming to agree with the OP. It’s unclear whether his “it” refers to the sovereign (his translation of summae potestates) or the right (jus) of the sovereign. Either answer might get some support from other passages: in vi, 19, the king is said to be, as it were, the mind (mens) of a monarchical commonwealth (civitas); in x, 9, the laws (jura) are said to be the soul (anima) of the state (imperii).

3. OP: decernendi. NS: om t’onderscheiden en t’oordelen. See the note at III/286/5.

4. The enumeration of the rights of the sovereign here and in the following section closely parallels that in Hobbes, DCv vi, 18; Leviathan xviii, 16. The comparison of the sovereign to the mind (or soul) of the state is also in Hobbes, DCv vi, 19.

5. A parallel passage in the TTP (xvi, 51) accuses such a subject of treason. Zac suggests that Spinoza might illustrate this by noting the harmful consequences of the prophets’ interventions in affairs of state. For examples of this concern, see TTP xvii, 37, 55, 71–72, 108–11; TP iii, 4. He would probably also have wished to cite the interventions of Christian clerics, as illustrated in TTP xix, 2.

6. The question was asked (and answered in the negative) by Grotius (see Grotius 1647/2001, vi, 14), who cites Augustine as concurring. Cf. Justinian, Digest I, iii, 31. For a helpful history of the issue, see Pennington 1993. See also Hobbes, DCv vii, 14; Leviathan xxvi, 6.

7. Nero was notorious for such conduct. Cf. Tacitus, Annals xiii, 25; xiv, 14–15; xv, 33–37; xvi, 4–5.

8. Cf. Machiavelli’s advice in The Prince xix.

9. OP: contractûs. NS: het verdrach. Gebhardt follows the OP, making “contract” plural. Wernham, observing that the OP editors were responsible for most of the accents in Spinoza’s text, follows the NS, taking its singular to be obviously correct. (He systematically omits the OP’s accent marks in his texts, as do all subsequent editors I have seen.) He also notes that Spinoza follows Hobbes in making democracy the original form of constitution, but does not follow Hobbes in making the transfer of sovereignty to a monarch unconditional. On the first point, see TP viii, 12; TTP xvii, 33; Hobbes, DCv vii, 5–12; Hobbes, Leviathan xvii, 13, xviii, 1. On the second, TP vii, 1; Hobbes, Leviathan xviii, 4.

10. That is, as Zac suggests, if those who have been given authority do not use it in the deepest interests of the citizens, they risk destroying their authority.

1. Supplied from Letter 84.

2. Hobbes makes a similar distinction in Leviathan xxx, 20. Cf. also Grotius 1647/2001, vi, 1 (Gebhardt V).

3. Prima facie this conflicts with TTP v, 18–19, which claimed a wider range of ends for the creation of a social order. Spinoza will try to correct this impression in §5.

4. Similarly Hobbes, Leviathan xxx, 7 (Gebhardt V).

5. Zac cites, among other things, Machiavelli, Discourses III, 29.

6. Cf. TTP iii, 16 (Gebhardt V).

7. Gebhardt compares the thought in this paragraph to that in Leviathan xxix, 1.

8. Gebhardt (V, 142) cites Livy xxviii, 12; Machiavelli, The Prince xvii, and Discourses iii, 21. These sources do not unequivocally support Spinoza’s judgment, unless we’re prepared to give the notion of “virtue” the rather special meaning it has in Machiavelli. Livy is amazed that Hannibal was able to keep his army together under very adverse circumstances. But he offers no explanation for this feat. The passages in Machiavelli do attribute Hannibal’s success to his “virtue” (virtù), but only by understanding that concept in a characteristically Machiavellian way: Hannibal’s soldiers knew him to be harsh and cruel. So they regarded him with both admiration and fear. “Without cruelty his other virtues would not have done the job” (Wootton 1994, 53; Machiavelli makes a similar judgment in Discourses iii, 21). In Polybius xi, 19, we find an attribution of Hannibal’s success to his virtue, which does not seem to require the kind of qualifications necessary in Machiavelli.

9. Perhaps aimed at Hobbes, DCv i, 12; Leviathan xiii, 8 (Wernham, Zac).

10. An allusion (as many have noted) to Tacitus, Agricola 30: ubi solitudinem faciunt, pacem appellant, where they make a wasteland, they call it a peace. Cf. III/298/19–20, and Curley 1996.

11. Cf. TTP iv, 9–15; xx, 12.

12. Cf. Hobbes, who argues that the rights of the kings of England depended on their possession of power, not on the justice of the wars by which they (or their predecessors) had acquired it. Cf. Leviathan xviii, 1, xx, 1, and in the Review and Conclusion: “there is scarce a commonwealth in the world whose beginnings can in conscience be justified.”

13. Here Spinoza rejects the argument of Leviathan xx, 2.

14. Wernham thought there was “some slight justification” for Spinoza’s interpretation of Machiavelli in ch. xxiv of The Prince, but that applied to the whole work it was “quite indefensible.” He granted that Rousseau read Machiavelli similarly, calling attention to Social Contract III, 6: “Pretending to give lessons to kings, he gave great lessons to the people. Machiavelli’s Prince is the book of republicans.” (Cf. TTP xvii, 8, 111; xviii, 30–37.) But as Zac notes, Spinoza and Rousseau are hardly alone in their reading. Cf. Diderot’s article on Machiavellism in the Encyclopedia: “Read well this work. If you ever accept a master, he will be as I paint him for you. That’s the ferocious beast to whom you will abandon yourselves” (“Machiavelisme,” Encyclopédie, IX, 793). Diderot in turn cites Bacon: “This man teaches tyrants nothing. They know only too well what they must do. But he instructs the people what they have to dread.” He might also have cited Bayle’s Dictionary article on Machiavelli.

1. Supplied from Letter 84.

2. Some editors have taken the reference to be to i, 7, but Ramond’s suggestion (i, 5; ii, 14; ii, 18) seems more accurate.

3. Alluding again to Tacitus, Agricola 30. Cf. III/296/8–10. Francès (Pléiade) comments that Spinoza treats the turbulence we find in democratic societies as the price we must pay for a life worth living. Cf. also Machiavelli’s tribute to republics in Discourses II, ii: people acquire a love of political freedom, because they see by experience that states have never been successful or great except when they have been free. Only in republics is the public interest a guiding principle.

4. Some trace this thought back to Aristotle (Politics 1287b8–9), but Aristotle does not seem nearly as critical as Spinoza does of aristocracy-masquerading-as-monarchy. Matheron argues (in PR) that Spinoza thinks an open aristocracy can be good under certain conditions (to be explained in Ch. viii), but that a concealed aristocracy is necessarily bad.

5. See Quintus Curtius X, i, 22–42, for the story of how Bagoas, a eunuch who had won Alexander’s favor by performing sexual services, procured the death of Orsines. Gebhardt suggests that Spinoza may also be thinking of more recent examples: Henry III of France, James I of England, and William III of Orange.

6. A recurrent theme. Cf. below, vii, 14, and in the TTP xvii, 3.

7. Cf. TTP xii, 7, and TP ii, 8. Some translators would render this sentence: “good (or loyal) citizens are rare,” which is certainly possible.

8. Cf. the parallel passage in De la Court, I, vi, 6.

9. Wernham cites De la Court I, i, 10 (p. 40 in the 1661 edition), which in turn cites Tacitus, Annals II, lxxxii.

10. I.e. (as I take it), its citizens will not possess the same civic rights as do those who contribute to the common defense.

11. Cf. TTP xvii, 74–75, on the advantage the Hebrew state derived from relying exclusively on a citizen army, and Machiavelli, who warned against the dangers of relying on mercenaries or “auxiliaries” (troops under the authority of a foreign prince), whose loyalty the prince could not depend on. See The Prince xii–xiii, and Discourses II, 20.

12. Spinoza’s insistence on the duty of all citizens to be prepared for military service (including combat) may to some degree explain his opposition to admitting women to citizenship (xi, 4). Wernham notes that in Athens young men only became full citizens after two years of military training.

13. Siege operations were an important part of warfare in Spinoza’s day. Moreover, the Dutch Republic depended for its defense on a system of dikes whose management required scientific knowledge. (When the French armies invaded in 1672, the Dutch opened the dikes to flood the fields and make them impassable. See Israel 1995, ch. 31.)

14. Appuhn suggests that Spinoza was so concerned to avoid a fortunate general’s achieving political power that he dismissed such military considerations as the need for unity and continuity of command. No doubt Spinoza’s knowledge of Roman history made him acutely aware of the threat successful military commanders could pose to civilian government (a threat the popularity of the House of Orange made very real to supporters of republican government in the Netherlands).

15. Zac thinks Spinoza is inspired by the example of the tribes of Israel. He may be right. But those groups had a common biological origin, which is not clearly true of Spinoza’s “clans.”

16. Spinoza will defend this position in vii, 19. But common ownership of the land will not be a feature of his aristocracies. Cf. viii, 10.

17. In the war of 1672 the Dutch had to face, not only the threat of invasion by a French army which outnumbered its forces four to one, but also a blockade of its ports by the English navy. The government was severely criticized for not preparing adequately to meet these dangers. The navy’s lack of preparedness was a major issue. See Israel 1995, ch. 31.

18. Wernham observes that in addition to its deputies, each of the eighteen towns of Holland sent a lawyer to the Provincial Estates. Many of the arrangements Spinoza prescribes for monarchies—many designed to limit the powers of the king—were (analogous to) features of the Dutch Republic. Temple 1972, ch. 2, is still very much worth consulting.

19. Zac notes that in the Dutch Republic the stadtholder, as representative of the sovereign in each province, had the right to choose the magistrates from each town from a list presented by the town.

20. Zac argues that in spite of its name this council is not merely advisory, but also exercises legislative and executive functions: “although in cases of disagreement, the king has the last word, the council basically has both legislative and executive functions. . . . Without using the word, Spinoza fundamentally recommends a parliamentary monarchy.”

21. OP, Gebhardt, Proietti: ceu. NS: of. So Gfroerer, Wernham: seu. Akkerman recommends retaining the OP text.

22. Spinoza here takes the republican side in a major controversy in the Dutch politics of his day. William III (1650–1702), Prince of Orange, was born only a few days after the death of his father, William II. He did not succeed to his father’s position of stadtholder until 1672. In his early years he was raised by his mother, Mary Stuart (daughter of Charles I of England). After her death in 1660 Jan de Witt and other leaders of the Republic sought to gain control of the young prince’s education, a move resisted by the family, but eventually successful. De Witt would have preferred to see the office of stadtholder abolished, but at a minimum he wished to see that the prince was brought up with a proper respect for republican values. See Troost 2005.

23. In the States General the chief delegates of the several provinces took turns presiding, for a week at a time (Wernham, Zac).

24. The system described in this paragraph was that of the States General, which met four times a year, and delegated the responsibility for day-to-day operations when it was not in session to a committee known as the Gecommiteerde Raden (Temple 1972, ch. 2).

25. Proietti notes a similar passage in More’s Utopia (More 1995, 122–23). But More’s rules have restrictions which go beyond Spinoza’s. No matter can be debated on the day it is first introduced; none can be decided unless it has been discussed on three separate days; and the highest officials are prohibited from consulting with one another outside the popular assembly, for fear that they’ll conspire to alter the government and enslave the people.

26. In the States General of the United Provinces, each province had only one vote (Temple 1972, 63). By giving each clan a vote, Spinoza’s system gives the provinces larger in population more weight in the council’s deliberations. He will argue for the fairness of this in vii, 18.

27. In opposing torture as an investigative tool, Spinoza is siding with Hobbes (Levia-than xiv, 30) and Montaigne (see his essay “On Conscience” in Montaigne, Essays, II, 5).

28. OP: quadragesimum, forty. NS: vijftig, fifty. Gebhardt declares the NS “obviously erroneous.” This seems not so clear, but Wernham and Proietti, who note the difference, accept the OP text. Though vii, 5, deals with the qualifications for a different kind of council, it does suggest that the NS text might be right.

29. Secret votes were the rule in the Dutch Republic (Zac).

30. I.e., the members of the executive committee mentioned in §24, which provides day-to-day supervision of government functions.

31. OP: sint primo eorum. NS: zijn voorerst de goederen der gener. Recent editors seem to agree that the OP inadvertently omitted bona.

32. There’s a fuller discussion of this, not obviously consistent with the passage here, in vii, 22.

33. Spinoza follows the advice of Machiavelli, Discourses ii, 3, favoring a liberal immigration policy (Zac).

34. One factor contributing to the disaster which befell the Dutch Republic in 1672 was the poor quality of the intelligence the Dutch ambassador in London provided regarding England’s intentions. Although Charles II and Louis XIV had agreed in 1669 to mount a joint attack on the Republic, the ambassador continued to reassure his principals in 1670 that England would adhere to the terms of the Triple Alliance of 1668. See Israel 1995, ch. 30.

35. A view which goes back at least to Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics 1177b9, 1256b23; Politics 1333a35. Similarly (Pseudo-)Sallust, Ad Caesarem . . . Oratio vi, 2.

36. The advice here is that given by Camillus to the Roman Senate, after the conquest of the Latin peoples, as reported by Livy viii, 13 (and repeated by Machiavelli, in Discourses ii, 23).

37. Wernham suggests that Spinoza’s concern with the king’s marrying a foreign wife may be prompted by the close ties between the House of Orange and the Stuart family in England. William II had married the daughter of Charles I, and might for that reason be thought prone to autocracy. In 1676 William III was seeking the hand of Mary, the daughter of the future James II. See vii, 24, and the annotation there.

38. Cf. Hobbes, DCv ix, 1; xii, 5; Leviathan xviii, 16.

39. Spinoza’s bias against female rulers contrasts with Hobbes’ position on the succession in monarchies. See below, at vii, 25, and the passages cited there. Cf. also Leviathan xlii, 78a. Hobbes’ greater receptiveness to female rule may be related to the fact that he was born during the reign of Elizabeth.

40. In the United Provinces the Reformed churches and their ministers were maintained at public expense. Members of other Protestant denominations could apply to the magistrates for permission to build their own church and hire their own ministers, without state support, provided they satisfied the magistrates that they taught nothing “destructive of civil society or prejudicial to the constitutions of their state” (Temple 1972, 104–5). “The question of which churches were allowed in Holland varied from town to town. It was not subject to a general rule either of the States General or of the provincial assemblies” (Jonathan Israel, personal correspondence, 3 March 2014).

Spinoza’s design for a model monarchy excludes a national church, whereas his design for a model aristocracy provides for one. Cf. vii, 26, and viii, 46. It’s unclear why Spinoza makes this distinction. The religion given state sanction and support in Ch. viii will have a very minimal creed, intended to include only principles common to all religions, and subject to restrictions aimed at avoiding sectarianism. Why this would be acceptable in an aristocracy, but not in a monarchy, is puzzling.

1. Supplied from Letter 84.

2. On the Persians worshipping their kings as gods, see Quintus Curtius VIII, v, 11 (cited also in TTP xvii, 23). The reference to Daniel 6 is to vv. 8 and 15. From these passages (and Esther 1:19, 8:8) it appears that an edict written in the name of the king and signed by him was unalterable. But some have argued that this is “a folkloristic motif, not a Persian custom” (HCSB). The conclusion of the passage (6:25–27) contradicts the idea that the king cannot issue a decree altering one he has previously given.

3. Cf. TTP xvii, 14. Note that although Spinoza is giving what he thinks of as a demonstration of the fundamental principles of a monarchy, he does not hesitate to argue from rough generalizations about human nature and from the practices of those who construct states.

4. OP: jura. The NS, to capture the ambiguity of the Latin, has a double translation: rechten en wetten.

5. The phrase here translated “the weak support of the laws”—invalido legum auxilio—echoes a passage in Tacitus’ Annals (I, ii) describing the deterioration of Roman life under the principate of Augustus, when legal protections were formally maintained, but undermined by force, favoritism, and bribery.

6. OP, Gebhardt: ex communi natura. NS: van de gemene natuur der menschen. So Wernham, Bartuschat, and Proietti all read: ex communi hominum natura. Cf. III/276/3, 357/10, 359/5.

7. I take this to mean that day-to-day policy must always be consistent with the fundamental goals of the state—peace, freedom, and security—not that there can’t be flexibility in the more specific policies adopted as means to those ends, such as the decision to enter into a particular alliance, or to increase or decrease military spending.

8. That is, on all members of the political order whose policies they are giving advice about. (The next sentence implies that the Counselors are not assumed to take into account the interests of the members of other states.)

9. Though the objection considered here is common enough in anti-democratic literature, Hobbes might be the source. Cf. DCv x, 10; Leviathan xix, 9. If so, Spinoza may be using Hobbes to reply to himself. Cf. Leviathan xxv, 13.

10. A slightly inexact quotation from (Pseudo-)Sallust’s “Speech to Caesar on the State,” i, 4. (See Sallust LCL, xviii–xix, 444.) Spinoza will cite this passage again in viii, 12.

11. Spinoza holds that these incentives make monarchies particularly prone to initiate wars. Cf. TTP, xvii, 15, 33; xviii, 18–19; TP vii, 20. Wernham notes that Hobbes defends the view criticized here. Cf. DCv x, 17.

12. Perhaps, as Dominguez suggests, an allusion to the fall of Jan de Witt, whose republican regime was a success in peace, but a failure in war.

13. Cf. TTP xvi, 30.

14. See III Def. Aff. 44 and the propositions cited there. Spinoza returns to this theme in vii, 10. Perhaps there is some tension between depending on and encouraging the desire for glory, which puts people at odds with one another, and creating economic arrangements designed to give people common interests, as in vii, 8.

15. OP: Rex igitur, sive multitudinis metu ductus, vel ut sibi armatae multitudinis majorem partem devinciat, sive animi generositate ductus, ut scilicet utilitati publicae consulat. This might be read as presenting us with a threefold disjunction, and so some translators have treated it. But I think Spinoza meant to offer only two alternatives, with the first ut-clause intended to explain what the king may be led to do by fear of the multitude, as the second explains what he may be led to do from generositas. His insistence that the state rely on a citizen army includes a requirement that all citizens will be armed, and that this is an important constraint on the monarch’s rule. Cf. vi, 10; vii, 2, 17.

16. Spinoza here endorses what Kavka has called “the paradox of perfect tyranny,” i.e., the claim that it’s impossible for there to be a regime in which the ruler is obeyed only from fear of punishment. (Given the approximate equality of power between different people, and their common vulnerability to countermeasures, a tyrant must have at his disposal some who will enforce his punishments for reasons other than the fear of punishment.) For a useful discussion, culminating in the conclusion that while rule by fear alone is possible in principle, it’s likely to be highly unstable, and that real-world tyrants have often recognized this, see Kavka 1986, 254–66.

17. Perhaps the reference is to vi, 5–6, and 10, or to vii, 11.

18. Wernham sees an allusion here Tacitus’ description of Vespasian’s treatment of his soldiers, Histories II, lxxxii.

19. Here the allusion is to Tacitus’ description of Otho’s treatment of his soldiers, Histories I, xxxvi.

20. OP: duci. But Wernham, with reference to the NS, suggests reading conduci. The phrase here translated “mercenaries”—milites auxiliares—might suggest “auxiliary troops” in the Machiavellian sense, that is, troops under the authority of a foreign prince. Cf. above, vi, 10, n. 11. But I think Spinoza has in mind professional soldiers, who hire themselves out to anyone willing to pay their price. Cf. III/315/1.

21. Spinoza also cites this passage—specifically, Histories I, xxv—in ADN. XXXV, added to TTP xvii, 3.

22. Droetto suggests (rightly in my view) that Spinoza is already thinking of Antonio Pérez, whose Relaciones he quotes later in this section to make a different point. Pérez (1540–1611) was secretary of state of Castile under Philip II, and involved in a complex web of intrigue at the Spanish court. He persuaded Philip that his brother, Don John of Austria, the hero of the battle of Lepanto, and Philip’s Governor General in the Netherlands, had been plotting with Juan de Escobedo, Don John’s secretary, to overthrow Philip, and that the best way to thwart the coup would be to eliminate Escobedo. With Philip’s approval, he arranged Escobedo’s murder. It seems that Don John and his secretary had not been engaged in such a plot, and that Pérez had more personal motives for suggesting the assassination. In his role as an intermediary between Philip, Escobedo, and Don John, Pérez had been dealing dishonestly with all the parties, and Escobedo threatened to expose him. After the assassination, Philip learned the truth, and regretted authorizing it. He had Pérez imprisoned on a charge of treason, but hesitated to bring him to trial, because Pérez had documents which would embarrass him. Eventually Pérez escaped, first to Aragon, and then to France, where he spent most of his remaining years. In 1598 he published his Relaciones, where he presents himself a loyal servant of his master, done in by rivals at court, who envied the closeness of his relationship to Philip. This self-serving work was especially popular in Protestant countries, because of the unflattering light in which it portrayed Philip, who had, on anyone’s account, sanctioned the killing of one of his subjects without due process. Pérez was a keen reader of Tacitus, whom he cites frequently. Spinoza owned the edition of the Relaciones published in Geneva in 1644. Extremely useful are Droetto, Méchoulan 1974, and Parker 2014. The Spanish original of Parker 2014, Parker 2012, has an appendix which does not appear in the English version, arguing that historians cannot and should not trust Pérez.

23. The passage Spinoza quotes (translating into Latin with some freedom) is in Pérez’s Relación Sumaria de las Prisiones y Persecuciones de Antonio Pérez, included in Pérez 1644, 207 (pp. 203–4 in Pérez 1715). A more literal translation would read: “the exercise of absolute power is very dangerous for kings, very hateful to his vassals, and very offensive to God and nature, as a thousand examples show.”

24. Cf. above, vi, 9.

25. Cf. above, vi, 10.

26. The Ethics mentions greed (in III P56S) as one of a group of five affects which are particularly noteworthy (the others being gluttony, drunkenness, lust, and ambition), but never, so far as I can see, gives it the prominence Spinoza accords it here. IV App. xxviii comes close.

27. Returning to the theme of the importance of reading history, this time Spinoza makes it clear that the Bible is also a valuable source for our understanding of human behavior.

28. Wernham invites comparison with Machiavelli, Discourses iii, 24, and Tacitus, Agricola 39 (to which we might add his Annals I, ii).

29. Implicitly a criticism of the constitution of the Dutch Republic, which gave equal representation in the States General to each province, independently of their population. Cf. vi, 25.

30. Accepting Wernham’s emendation of the OP text, reading quia for qui.

31. Proietti corrects the OP’s (and Gebhardt’s) vindicare in this passage to vendicare. (It occurs also below in l. 31.)

32. Cf. vi, 12.

33. Cf. vii, 5, and the annotation there.

34. Cf. vi, 26–29.

35. Tacitus, Histories II, lxxxiv. Spinoza has modified the quotation, which in Tacitus begins as a description of the behavior of one particular Roman general, Mucianus, and moves to a generalization about the decline of justice under Vespasian.

36. By the restriction assumed in §8.

37. Not quite what vi, 31, said: in peacetime no regular payments are to be made to soldiers; in wartime those who sustain their life by daily work should receive regular payment; officers receive only the spoils of war.

38. Wernham suggests that this passage “owes something” to Sallust, Bellum Catilinae v. If so, Spinoza generalizes in a way Sallust doesn’t.

39. Wernham takes TP vi, 33, to indicate that the king’s near kinsmen should be made ambassadors to foreign countries. The story of Philip II’s problems with Don John of Austria would be one example of the dangers posed to a king by a near relative who achieves military renown.

40. Cf. 1 Kings 3:1, 14:25–28; 2 Chron. 8:11, 12:9–12.

41. In 1667 Louis invaded the Spanish Netherlands, which he regarded as his wife’s inheritance.

42. The complex history of Henry VIII’s marriage to Catherine of Aragon might also serve to illustrate the dangers involved in such alliances.

43. It’s natural to think Hobbes is the target here, and he certainly did defend some of the views criticized: e.g., that the King can choose anyone he likes as his successor. Cf. DCv ix, 12, 13; Leviathan xix, 18–20. But he does not infer (a non sequitur in my view) that in cases where the King has not named a successor, the King’s son inherits the throne by right. Hobbes thinks that in the absence of an express designation, custom controls. Where custom dictates that the eldest male succeeds, the eldest male succeeds. If custom favors a female, a daughter may succeed. Cf. DC ix, 14–17; Leviathan xix, 21. Where neither express designation nor custom settles the issue, we presume a preference for a child of his own, with sons preferred to daughters, but a daughter preferred to the children of other men (e.g., a brother or sister).

As Matheron observes (PR, 295, nn. 43, 44), Spinoza’s position is that in a monarchy the eldest son does succeed his father by right (vi, 37). He just doesn’t do so by right of inheritance. He does so because the multitude has so willed, once and for all. (It is unclear why the multitude, in instituting a monarchy, must have made that stipulation.)

44. Wernham comments: “This means that the ‘eternal election’ of the king is always to some extent fictitious (cf. viii, 3), and that the original democratic sovereign is always lurking in the background.”

45. Eorum . . . cohaerentiam, sive imperii analogiam. I take Spinoza to be claiming that his foundations for a monarchic state are well-designed in that they give the king enough, but not too much, power—enough to provide security and order, but not so much that it compromises the freedom of the citizens. On this reading the idea of proportion would refer to the balance of power between the king and the multitude (as in the quote from Ferdinand in §30).

46. From Tacitus, Annals I, xxix (where unnamed members of Drusus’ staff advise him to deal harshly with a threatened mutiny among the soldiers). Spinoza has previously cited this passage, without showing any disapproval, at E IV P54S. Here he seems to be criticizing Drusus’ advisors for identifying as vices peculiar to the common people defects Spinoza thinks people in general suffer from.

47. Livy XXIV, xxv. Spinoza abridges and paraphrases a passage interesting enough to expand and translate. The Latin reads: ea natura multitudinis est: aut servit humiliter aut superbe dominatur; libertatem, quae media est, nec struere modice nec habere sciunt; et non ferme desunt irarum indulgentes ministri, qui avidos atque intemperantes suppliciorum animos ad sanguinem et caedes inritent. That is: “This is the nature of the multitude; they either serve humbly or rule proudly, like despots; they don’t know how to moderately find the middle way of freedom, or to keep it. And generally there’s no lack of men to minister indulgently to their anger, who stir up hearts greedy for intemperate punishment to bloody slaughter.” Livy is commenting on a speech by Sopater, a Syracusan politician, who encouraged a mob to condemn to death the wives of two recently assassinated tyrants. Livy’s account does suggest that these women were complicit in their husbands’ crimes. But Sopater’s speech unleashed the mob’s anger against other victims whom Livy clearly regards as innocent.

48. Here Spinoza refers to a passage in Tacitus (Histories I, xxxii), in which Piso’s oratory has incited the plebeians en masse (universa plebs) to call for the death of Otho and the conspirators. His quotation is not exact. In Tacitus (LCL II, 56) the text reads: neque illis iudicium aut veritas, which Moore renders “there was neither sense nor honesty in their demands.” Spinoza’s quote (perhaps relying on memory) reads: nec ei veritas, aut judicium, which is what I have translated. Tacitus offers the following justification for saying that the plebeians showed neither sense nor honesty (to use Moore’s translation): “On this very same day they would have clamoured for the opposite with equal enthusiasm, but they acted according to the traditional custom of flattering the emperor, whoever he might be, with fulsome acclamations and senseless zeal” (LCL Tacitus II, 57).

49. The quote is from Terence, Adelphi 823–25, where it is treated as proverbial.

50. Wernham notes an allusion here to the opening paragraph of Tacitus’ Histories with its complaint that other historians, writing about the empire, did not serve the cause of truth well, for one of two reasons: either they hated the emperor and exaggerated his defects, or they wanted his favor and flattered him. Tacitus himself claimed in his Annals to write sine ira et studio, without anger or partiality.

51. Wernham compares Spinoza with Machiavelli here, noting correctly that Spinoza favors “an inter-state equilibrium,” like that Machiavelli describes as having been key to the stability achieved in both Sparta and Venice. But in the end Machiavelli does not advocate seeking this middle way. He thinks that the vicissitudes of life being what they are, such an equilibrium is impossible to find successfully, and can be pursued only by giving up the ambition to found a great empire. Someone organizing a republic from scratch should follow the Roman model, allowing easy immigration, population increase, and participation of the people in the military (Discourses i, 6).

52. Conceding a point to Hobbes, DCv x, 14. Méchoulan 1974 suggests that in this paragraph Spinoza may have been thinking of Pérez, whose knowledge of Philip II’s secrets made his master tremble when Pérez was no longer in reach of his revenge. In addition to Escobedo’s assassination, there were other killings (though we should probably not include the death of his son, Don Carlos, among them). See Parker 1995a, ch. 5.

53. A paraphrase of a passage in Tacitus (Annals I, lxxxi), which accuses Tiberius of disguising under an appearance of freedom his policies regarding consular elections.

54. In what follows Spinoza relies broadly on Pérez’s Relaciones (139–48, 228, in Pérez 1644; 145–53, 221–22 in Pérez 1715) for an account of the institution of constitutional monarchy in Aragon. Pérez may not be an entirely reliable source, but Dominguez 1986b thinks the text gives a sufficiently precise account of the “General Privilege” Pedro III (r. 1276–1285) agreed to. In that agreement, the king promised to observe the rights of the nobility, to not prosecute anyone in virtue of his office, to convene the Cortes annually, and to allow “the Justice” to judge all cases brought to the Cortes. Droetto provides a detailed and instructive comparison of Spinoza’s account with its source in Pérez. For helpful general background, see Elliott 1970. For an illuminating discussion of Spinoza’s relation to Pérez, see Méchoulan 1974, 1984.

55. Wernham suggested that this pope was Gregory VII (r. 1073–1085). But Dominguez 1986b suggests that it was Alexander II (r. 1061–1073). Droetto notes that the vagueness of this passage about dates and persons indicates that the “history” is largely legendary. Giesey 1968 is a meticulous attempt to sort out fact from fiction.

56. Here Spinoza alludes to 1 Sam. 8 (discussed briefly in TTP xvii, 106), which generated much controversy in the early modern period. Though most naturally taken as an argument against absolute monarchy (as in Milton 1991, 13–14, 85), in Leviathan xx, 16, Hobbes construed it as a statement of the absolute right of kings.

57. When Pérez escaped to Aragon in 1590, he placed himself in the custody of the authorities there, knowing that he would have greater rights under the Aragonian constitution than he had in Castile. Frustrated by this maneuver, Philip had Pérez arrested by the Inquisition, on spurious charges of heresy and sodomy. He expected the Inquisition to be more cooperative (which they were), and to confine Pérez more securely (which they did not). The transfer to the Inquisition led to riots, in which the Aragonians protested the assault on their kingdom’s liberties. This forced the Inquisition to return Pérez to the civil authorities. Philip then mobilized forces on the border of Aragon, threatening an invasion if Pérez was not returned to the Inquisition. The authorities relented and prepared to obey. But further riots allowed Pérez to escape to France. Philip invaded, punished the leaders of the rebellion, and pushed through the Cortes a number of measures increasing his power in Aragon, including legal changes which made it harder for someone charged with treason to be protected by the privileges. See Parker 2014.

58. Pedro IV (r. 1336–1387), who abolished the privileges in 1348, but was forced to reinstate them in 1384. (See Dominguez 1986b and Droetto.)

59. It’s unclear whether Pérez meant to claim that Pedro IV had cut off his hand, or merely that he had cut it.

60. Quoting Pérez 1644, 147 (p. 152 in 1715 ed.). Pérez’s account is quite clear about the contractual nature of the agreement between the king and his subjects.

61. Ferdinand and Isabella were married in 1469. Ferdinand was then heir to the throne of Aragon, but did not become King of Aragon until the death of his father in 1479. Isabella was heir to the throne of Castile, and became Queen of Castile on the death of her half brother in 1474. Ferdinand then became King of Castile, not in his own right, but in the right of his wife. On her death in 1504 their daughter, Joanna, inherited the throne. Ferdinand resigned the throne of Castile, but acted as her regent for most of his remaining life until his death in 1516. Spinoza’s allusion to Ferdinand’s eventual absolutism perhaps refers to his introduction of the Inquisition into Aragon, which the Aragonese bitterly resisted.

62. Spinoza is quoting a passage from Pérez’s Relaciones (1644, 143) which the English translation of 1715 renders somewhat more exactly: “That besides his having inherited them on the same conditions [as] he possessed them, and having sworn to maintain them, on pain of the greatest of censures, which oath whosoever did break would have just cause to dread the judgments of God, and besides the faith due naturally to his word, which the most barbarous nations regard, he always observed it as a rule between king and subjects, that whensoever the balance was even, as to the kingdom’s satisfaction, the kingdom would be permanent, and the king safe in the possession of it, and that when the balance was uneven, both would be always striving, not only to set it even, as it was before, but to rise above the other, and hence would ensue the ruin of one or both of them” (1715, 148–49).

63. Alluding to Terence’s Phormio 77–78.

1. From here on we can’t appeal to Letter 84 to supply chapter titles. This title appears in the OP, but probably comes from Spinoza’s editors, not Spinoza. Whether it fairly summarizes the contents of the chapter is a matter of disagreement. Cf. Wernham, 367, with Pléiade 1502–3.

The organization of this chapter is as follows: §1 defines what an aristocratic state is, and §2 determines the size of the patrician class from which the Supreme Council of the state is to be drawn; §§3–6 compare aristocracies with monarchies and democracies, arguing that aristocracies are more absolute than monarchies, though less absolute than democracies; §§7–19 describe the foundations of an aristocratic state, specifying that the Supreme Council is to be “its own master” (sui juris) as far as possible. This means that it has the unconditional right to make and repeal laws, appoint all public servants, and choose the patricians who are to replace those of its members who die. §§20–28 describe a smaller council, called the Council of Syndics, also drawn from the patrician class, and appointed for life, whose function is to oversee the actions of the Supreme Council, and in particular, to make sure that the laws the Supreme Council has enacted are obeyed. §§29–36 describe a second subordinate council, the Senate, which has executive functions and a regularly rotating, term-limited membership. Though the Senate makes initial decisions about war and peace, these decisions are subject to review by the Supreme Council. §§37–43 describe the judiciary, and §§44–45 the role of certain officials not chosen from the patrician class. The discussion of the foundations of the state concludes in §46 with prescriptions for a national religion which give specificity to the discussion of state-church relations in the TTP.

2. Spinoza will return to this topic in xi, 1. He apparently had not worked out consistent criteria for distinguishing between aristocracies and democracies. See the Glossary entries ARISTOCRACY and DEMOCRACY.

3. The passage from III/323/23 (“I say expressly. . .”) to III/324/1 (“.. among the Patricians”) is in the OP, but not the NS, which suggests that the Dutch translation was made from a Latin manuscript to which Spinoza subsequently made changes. Wernham notes that the town council of Amsterdam was recruited in this way, with new members being chosen by the old, when one of their number died. Cf. Temple 1972, 53–54.

4. Wernham notes that Van Hove cites the danger of factions as a great weakness of aristocracies. See Van Hove 1661, II, ii, 5, p. 286.

5. A number of translators (e.g., Wernham, Shirley, Ramond, Droetto, Dominguez) have specified that the desire leading to this result is ambition (defined in E III Def. Aff. 44 as an excessive desire for esteem). We might also think of it as a desire for power, which is perhaps more fundamental in Spinoza’s psychology. Cf. E III P12. The same expression (more humanae cupidinis) is used in TP ix, 14.

6. Thucydides judged that the government of the Five Thousand at Athens in 411 was “a reasonable and moderate blending of the few and the many,” producing a better government than Athens had ever had in his lifetime. (The Peloponnesian War viii, 97, noted by Van Hove 1661, III, iii, 4, p. 566.)

7. In TP ix Spinoza will discuss aristocracies with several principal cities, which do not take their name from one. (That is his preferred type of aristocracy.)

8. The OP’s vendicat is correct (Proietti, Akkerman). Gebhardt’s “emendation” to vindicat is unnecessary. Similarly below at 326/9 and 13.

9. In antiquity “Lower Germany” (Germania Inferior) was a Roman province on the west bank of the Rhine, which included the Rhine from its mouth up to the mouth of the Obringa (either the Aar or the Moselle). The territory included modern Luxembourg, southern Netherlands, part of Belgium, and part of Germany.

10. This was the practice in Venice, which, as Machiavelli points out, did not end well (Discourses i, 6).

11. Proietti notes an allusion to Sallust, Bellum Catilinae lix, 5.

12. OP, Gebhardt: omnis gloriae et honores adipiscendi spes. NS: alle hoop, om eer en ampten te verkrijgen. So Wernham: gloriam.

13. Contrast Spinoza’s disapproval of hiring mercenaries in a monarchy, at vi, 10. Wernham notes that the Dutch regents had hired mercenaries in times of crisis.

14. The best-known example being the overthrow of the republic by Caesar. Cf. III/289/7–8 for a similar expression in a different context.

15. Alluding again to (Pseudo-)Sallust’s “Speech to Caesar on the State,” i, 4. Cf. TP vii, 5.

16. The situation of the immigrants Spinoza describes in this paragraph would have been, roughly, that of the Amsterdam Jewish community in which he grew up. They had come there in search of religious liberty, and were content to be left alone to practice their religion. But in Spinoza’s lifetime they had not generally assimilated in the way he describes. On this issue, see Bodian 1997.

17. Van Hove excludes the same classes. Van Hove 1661, III, iii, 4 (Wernham).

18. In Venice a noble became a member of the Grand Council at age twenty-five (Wernham).

19. OP: a reliquis. But NS: boven d’anderen, suggesting prae reliquis, above everyone else (Wernham).

20. In Venice the refusal to accept certain magistracies was punishable by a fine (Wernham).

21. OP: accusatores, si res postulat, asservandos. A puzzling passage. Asservare can mean either “to arrest” or “to keep safe, protect.” In the only other place where it occurs in Spinoza’s writings, III/265/6 (i.e., in ADN. XXXVI, attached to xvii, 37), it clearly means the former. At III/428 Gebhardt says that that’s what asservare means in Spinoza, which seems a hasty generalization, given that we have only two occurrences, and only one where the meaning is clear. But why would the presiding officer want to arrest the accusatores (accusers)?

The NS translator has: de beschuldigden te beschutten, “to protect the accused,” also puzzling, for different reasons. Why protect the accused? Gebhardt conjectured that the NS translator was looking at a text which read accusatos asservandos, and mistranslated asservandos. This seems possible. But if an editor believes that it’s right, why not emend the text? In the end, Gebhardt did. But at III/335 he retains the OP reading, and his Textgestaltung (III/428) says that if we do that, we must interpret asservare as meaning “to protect.” His theory at that point was that the Syndics might need to provide protective custody for commoners so that they would feel free to make accusations against patricians (even though they could make those accusations anonymously).

Wernham argued that there would be no need to protect the accusers if their identities were kept secret. So he corrected to accusatos, and translated asservandos as “take into custody.” Shirley and PR make the same emendation and translate similarly. Bartuschat (1994) follows the OP, without comment. Cristofolini (1985) also follows the OP in his text, but notes the controversy. Dominguez (1986b) points out that in his Corrigenda Gebhardt changed his mind, recommending (III/432) that we read accusatos for accusatores. He does not explain the change at that point, but in V, 175–76, he appeals to a passage from Van Hove as speaking decisively for the emendation. Dominguez’ translation (1986b) assumes that what is at issue is the protection of accusers.

It seems not too difficult to imagine circumstances which would require the protection even of secret accusers. Their knowledge of certain facts might enable the accused to identify them, even if the Syndics tried diligently to keep their identity secret. But it also seems not too difficult to imagine circumstances which would require the protection of the accused. Accusations of having committed a serious crime might put them at risk of extra-legal punishment from unruly citizens. (Americans might think of the assassination of Oswald; the Dutch, of Cornelis de Witt.) In the end I think it’s best to emend the text to accusatos, but to acknowledge its uncertainty.

22. The extra text which Gebhardt adds from the NS is probably, as Wernham suggested, a clarification of continuari. Proietti reaches the same conclusion, apparently independently. My translation assumes that the clarification is correct.

23. OP: appellabimus. The NS agrees with the use the future tense. Wernham suggested emending to appellavimus, “we have called,” noting the prior introduction of the term Senatus at III/333/25, and observing that Spinoza’s handwriting would make this kind of corruption of the text very easy. But subsequent editors have not followed Wernham here, and the change does not seem necessary. This is the sort of mistake we might expect to find in a manuscript whose author has not given it a final review.

24. OP, Gebhardt: una circiter duodecima pars. NS: omtrent een vierde deel. Wernham thought sense required the NS reading, and emended the Latin accordingly: una circiter quarta pars, “roughly a fourth.” He argued that in practice senatorial rank would be confined to 1,200 men, who would “serve in groups of 400, each group resuming office after an interval of two years.” Translators have been sharply divided. Ramond argues at length for retaining the OP reading. Though I find the question quite obscure, I accept that recommendation. Cf. ix, 6.

25. Wernham calls attention to Hobbes, DCv x, 2, which argues that the ruler’s interests and his subjects’ interests are necessarily aligned: it’s in the ruler’s interest for his subjects to prosper, and contrary to his interest for them to be poor. (There’s a similar passage in Leviathan xix, 4.) Wernham comments that rulers don’t always see what is in their interest, which is no doubt true. But Spinoza perhaps wants to make a less obvious point: that the ruler’s interests and his subjects’ interests are necessarily in conflict.

26. I.e., Pieter van Hove, apparently the principal author of Van Hove 1661. Wernham suggests that the intended reference is to I, i, 10–34, pp. 39–136, of that work, which argue for republics as preferable to monarchies.

27. Wernham notes that it’s probably the representatives of the Syndics to the Senate, not the Syndics themselves, who are said to be chosen by the supreme council here. (All the Syndics are chosen by the supreme council, so it hardly seems worth saying, at this point, that the syndics are so chosen.)

28. Accepting Wernham’s suggestion that a word like indicabit has probably been omitted inadvertently after statum.

29. Wernham notes that the procedure up to this point is similar to that of the Venetian Senate, as described in Van Hove 1661 II, iv, 5, pp. 329–30.

30. Which granted as much sovereignty as possible to the supreme council.

31. The NS (beginning from the asterisk) has a fuller text, which reads: die de gerechtigheid bemint, en voor de welk zy ontsach zullen hebben, which we might translate: “who love justice and for whom [the unjust] will have respect/awe.” Proietti suggests that those who will in the first instance have respect for the judges who love justice will be the other judges, and that as a result, the unjust will fear them.

32. The Syndics thus have a role analogous to that of the tribunes of the people in the Roman republic. Cf. x, 3 (Wernham).

33. This is commonly taken to be a reference to two leading figures in the Dutch Republic, whose ability and industry gave them an influence far beyond the official powers of their positions: Johan van Oldenbarnevelt (1547–1619) and Johan de Witt (1625–1672). See Wernham, n. 409; Gebhardt V, 182–83; Dominguez 1986b, n. 196; Bartuschat 1994, n. 239. For the historical background, see Israel 1995, chs. 18, 19, and 29–31. Oldenbarnevelt served first as Pensionary of Rotterdam (a legal advisor to the town council, without a vote in its proceedings) and then, for thirty-two years, as Advocate of Holland, a similar position in a more powerful body. De Witt was first Pensionary of Dordrecht, and then Grand Pensionary of the States of Holland. During the crisis over the direction of the state church in the 1610s, Oldenbarnevelt sided with the Remonstrants, persuading the States of Holland not to agree to convene a national church synod. In the period when there was no stadtholder (from William II’s death in 1650 till the coming of age of his son, William III, in 1672), De Witt was the leader of the Republic through two wars with England. Neither was a member of the nobility. Some have raised questions about this interpretation: see Zac 1987, 265, nn. 44, 46.

34. This may be a reference either to the crisis leading up to the Synod of Dort or to the events of 1672, “the year of disaster.” See Israel 1995, chs. 18, 19, and 31.

35. In 1618 Maurice of Nassau, the Prince of Orange and stadtholder in five provinces, seized power. Oldenbarnevelt was tried by a special court and executed. In 1672, when the Republic was threatened by an invasion from the armies of Louis XIV, for which it was ill-prepared, DeWitt was brutally murdered by a mob in The Hague, perhaps at the instigation of his successor, the stadtholder William III.

36. I construe the phrase here translated “these are the two things” (quae duo) to refer back to considerations discussed earlier in this section, and not to the foundations about to be enumerated. I do not see a way of counting those foundations which makes their number come out two. The two considerations I take to be the tendency of ambitious commoners to seek (and acquire) more power than they should have in an aristocracy and the tendency of patricians to resent their assumption of such power. These motivate the decisions about the foundations necessary for a stable aristocracy. Most other translators seem to read this passage differently (e.g., Wernham, Shirley, Zac). But some, I think, agree (Ramond, Cristofolini).

37. OP: et jus denique Senatum convocandi, resque, ad communem salutem pertinentes penes Consules, ex ipso Senatu electos, esset. Clearly something has been omitted from the Latin. The Dutch text permits a reasonable, if approximate, conjecture about what’s missing. NS: en eindelijk het recht van de Staatsraat te beroepen, en van de zaken, tot de gemene welstant behorende, daar in voor te stellen, en daar af te spreken en te handelen by de Hoofden van de Staatsraat, uit de Staatsraat zelf verkozen, zou wezen. Gebhardt inserted some of the Dutch version into his Latin text; Wernham and Proietti both attempt to reconstruct the missing Latin, with different results. My translation blends their suggestions, making use also of the description of the consuls’ powers in viii, 36. The brackets indicate the language I’ve added.

38. Referring to the doctrines of the universal faith in TTP xiv, 13–34.

39. Here Spinoza endorses the policy of Tiberius, who held that because nobles needed to have wealth, the state might reasonably make good the losses of impoverished nobles, provided they had not brought their poverty on themselves by their vices. Cf. Tacitus, Annals II, 48.

40. The point seems to be that if a man is required to swear by a god in whom he does not believe, he will not fear divine punishment for lying. Wernham notes a similar thought in Hobbes, DCv ii, 21.

1. This editorial addition does not occur in either the OP or the NS, but is suggested by the first paragraph.

2. Wernham notes that Spinoza’s model for this kind of state is the province of Holland, though some features are taken from the Dutch Republic as a whole.

3. Wernham notes that originally the States of Holland and the States General met in different places at different times, but that after 1593 both bodies met in The Hague, which lacked political rights.

4. Implicitly a criticism of the distribution of power in the Dutch Republic. As Wernham notes (following Temple 1972, ch. 2), each city represented in the States of Holland, and each province represented in the States General, had only one vote. This gave the smaller cities a voice equal to that of Amsterdam in the States of Holland, and the smaller provinces a voice equal to that of Holland in the States General.

5. Although there were courts for each province in the Dutch Republic, as Wernham points out, there was no court for the Republic as a whole. That’s why a special court had to be created to try Oldenbarnevelt, whose offense was deemed a crime against the whole state.

6. Wernham points out that the Dutch Republic sought to deal with this problem in 1588 by giving the Council of State the power to settle disputes between the provinces, on the theory that that body would be better suited to deal with such issues than the States General, whose members would be bound to assert the interests of the provinces they represented, citing De la Bassecour Caan 1866, 170.

7. The analogue of Spinoza’s supreme council in the Dutch Republic would be what Temple called “the Assembly of the States-General,” which because of its cumbersome size rarely met, its decision-making power being delegated to the Council of State, whose analogue in Spinoza’s constitution would be the Senate (Wernham, citing Temple 1972, 61–62).

8. As Wernham points out, the different provinces in the Dutch Republic were represented in the Council of State to some degree in proportion to their size, giving Holland a position which gave some recognition to its greater power.

9. Accepting Proietti’s emendation, which seems clearly right.

10. OP: At urbes jure belli captae, & quae imperio accesserunt, veluti imperii Sociae habendae, & beneficio victae obligandae, vel Coloniae, quae jure Civitatis gaudeant, eo mittendae, & gens alio ducenda, vel omnino delenda est. If this text is correct, it says that it’s the conquered people who, on the third option, are to be completely destroyed, a view Gebhardt thought too monstrously genocidal for Spinoza to have held, even in the age of the Thirty Years War. The NS renders the concluding clauses of this sentence en het volk enders zenden, of de plaatsen gantschelijke uitroejen. So the Dutch translator thought it was the cities which were to be destroyed, not their inhabitants. It’s unclear what Latin text he had in front of him, but that policy would be more consistent both with an earlier passage in the TP (vi, 35), and with various passages in Machiavelli dealing with this issue. Cf. The Prince iii and v, and the Discourses ii, 23. So I follow Wernham’s emendation, which makes the last phrase vel omnino delendae sunt, with the implicit subject taken to be urbes. PR reach the same conclusion.

11. A proverbial expression, going back to Livy XXI, vii, where it refers to the Romans’ loss of Saguntum to Hannibal in the First Punic War, attributed to their indecision about how to respond to the threat he posed. Wernham notes that Van Hove frequently cites this maxim: e.g., in Van Hove 1661, I, i, 9, p. 38—where it occurs in a list of advantages monarchies are supposed to have over other forms of government—and in Van Hove 1661, II, i, 3, p. 271.

12. This sentence appears in the NS, but is omitted in the OP.

13. “Count of Holland” was one of Philip II’s titles, inherited from his father, Charles V. See Van Gelderen 1992, 1. The representative(s) of the Count are perhaps the provincial governors, or the stadtholders, chosen from among the principal nobles, who were the Hapsburg ruler’s chief representatives in the provinces. Cf. Israel 1995, 37. That seems to have been the view of the NS translator, who renders vicarius by stadhouder here. But perhaps Spinoza is thinking of the various governors-general Philip appointed to govern in his name when he returned to Spain in 1559. Cf. Van Gelderen 1992, 19–20.

14. Wernham has “gain” for obtinere here, but I think Shirley is right to translate “maintain.” Linguistically either is possible, but Matheron argues persuasively for a version of this reading in a note in PR, 307. In favor of “maintain” is the fact that when he succeeded Charles, Philip took the traditional oath promising to preserve the liberties of the people, and that Dutch political protests characteristically cast their struggle as an attempt to preserve their liberties, not to acquire liberty. Cf. Van Gelderen 1992, passim, and in the TTP xviii, 36, and the document cited there.

15. OP: Hollandiae. NS: Hollant (= Hollandia). Proietti and Cristofolini retain the OP reading, but Wernham, Shirley, and Bartuschat follow the NS, correctly in my view.

16. This seems difficult to reconcile with TTP xviii, 36, which claims that it was generally known that sovereignty in the Netherlands resided in the states of the several provinces.

17. Van Hove had been concerned about the small size of the aristocracy, and predicted a revolution because of the disproportion between rulers and subjects (Wernham). He strongly opposed the dominatio paucorum. Cf. Van Hove 1661, II, ii, 6, p. 291.

18. Van Hove had argued that an enemy who captured the assembly-place of a republic had that republic in his power (Wernham). See Van Hove 1661, II, i, 3, p. 267.

1. Neither the OP nor the NS gives this chapter a title. I have supplied this title from the first paragraph.

2. Spinoza applied the same epithet, acutissimus, to Machiavelli in v, 7.

3. Machiavelli presents this as the proverbial wisdom of doctors, but apparently his editors have not yet been able to find a source for the maxim. Cf. Machiavelli, Discourses 209.

4. OP, Gebhardt, Wernham: in mensem unum aut duos, for a month or two. NS: voor een maant, voor een jaar, of voor twee jaren, for a month, or a year, or two years. Wernham conjectured that the Dutch translator had misread unum as annum. This seems possible, but makes the time a bit shorter than it normally was in the Roman Republic, where the dictator’s term of office was typically set at six months. (It was customary for the dictator to lay down his powers before the end of that period, if the situation did not require him to hold them that long. See “dictator” in the Encyclopedia Britannica Online Academic Edition, May 2014.) Van Hove (1661, II, vi, 2) gives six months as the normal maximum time. PR propose: in unum annum, for a year. But their reasoning (pp. 307–8) seems unconvincing. Machiavelli argued (Discourses I, xxxiv–xxxv) that the dictatorship was a beneficial institution, provided its authority was not granted for a long time, by which he meant a year or two. He was no doubt mindful of the case of Caesar, who at the time of his assassination had been appointed dictator for life, a previous one-year term of having been extended indefinitely. This was highly unusual, and one reason Caesar was thought to be turning the republic into a monarchy.

5. Letters to Quintus III, viii, 4. OP, Gebhardt, read the quote from Cicero: tumor dictatoris . . . bonis injucundus fuit, a reading supported by the NS: opgeblazenheit, swollen state. V-L, noting that the passage in Cicero reads rumor, instead of tumor, emended. Subsequent editors have been divided: Wernham, Proietti, and Cristofolini accept the emendation. Droetto, Dominguez, and Shirley retain the OP text. I find the case for emending most persuasive.

6. On the role of the tribunes in the Roman Republic, see Machiavelli’s Discourses I, iii, and III, i; and Van Hove 1661, II, vi, 2 (Wernham). It’s not clear that the reference to Scipio is pertinent. It’s true that Scipio successfully defended himself and his brother against the tribunes’ charges that they had misappropriated funds. But this did not involve the office of dictator, which Scipio declined after his triumph in Africa.

7. It was also, Wernham notes, what happened during the panic of 1672, when William III was appointed stadtholder, in spite of the Perpetual Edict of 1667.

8. I.e., I take it, the two chapters on aristocracies, viii and ix.

1. Neither the OP nor the NS gives this chapter a title. The title supplied is suggested by the first paragraph.

2. See the Glossary entries ARISTOCRACY and DEMOCRACY.

3. OP, G: subeunda. Wernham, Cristofolini: subeundi (as in III/358/19).

4. Cf. vi, 11, 21; viii, 14.

5. Wernham notes that the quote properly begins with qui (as in the NS), not solis (as in the OP and Gebhardt). Several translators agree (Droetto, Dominguez, Shirley, Bartuschat, and Proietti). There’s a similar issue in the next quote.

6. Quintus Curtius (VI, v, 24–32) is one likely source for Spinoza’s account of the Amazons, though the stories occur in many ancient authors (e.g., Herodotus, Histories IV, 110–17). Spinoza’s language does not clearly commit him to a view about the historicity of the traditional stories. In DCv ix, 3, Hobbes had argued that in his day there were a number of matriarchal societies, in which men and women lived together, but the women, by natural right, had the supreme authority. Tacitus also reports this arrangement among the Sitones, though he disapproves of it (Germania 45). The most thorough attempt to separate fact from fiction is now probably Mayor 2014, which argues that the legends had a substantial basis in fact.

7. Reminiscent of E III P35S.

Glossary–Index

PREFACE

Words have a definite meaning only from their use.

—Spinoza, TTP xii, 11

Once I heard a friend, a specialist in ancient philosophy, say: “I don’t care how a translator translates a term, so long as he always translates it the same way.” I take this as hyperbole, expressing a strong preference for consistency, which would often have to give way, in practice, to a more flexible policy. A good choice in one context may be very bad in another. So a conscientious translator, however strongly inclined toward consistency, will find it hard to be strictly consistent. But a modest version of my friend’s principle seems reasonable: a translator of philosophical treatises should generally try to translate the principal terms of the text as consistently as she can without being seriously misleading.

To see why consistency might be important, consider praejudicium, a term which occurs frequently in Spinoza’s works, as it does in those of Descartes, who once wrote that the praejudicia of childhood—the prejudices of childhood, as I would translate it—are the chief cause of error, and that the remedy for this is to try to set them all aside.¹ A popular translation of Spinoza, admirable in many ways, uses a wide variety of different English expressions to render praejudicium: sometimes simply “prejudice,” of course, but also “misconception,” or “preconception,” or “false assumption,” or “dogma,” or “bias,” or “biased dogma,” or “prejudgment,” or “unorthodoxy,” or “set of attitudes.” It’s hard to believe that each of these choices can be justified as capturing some particular nuance of praejudicium in the context in which it occurs. But even if they could, we would lose something important by this elegant variation. Praejudicium is a big issue for Spinoza, as it was for Descartes. If the translation obscures how frequently that term occurs, the reader may not realize just how big an issue it is. She also may not realize the extent to which Descartes and Spinoza share a common preoccupation.

That’s one reason for seeking as much consistency as possible in the treatment of key terms. Here’s another: it will be important, at some stage, not just to see that Spinoza is very worried about prejudice, but also to see what kinds of opinion he would include under that heading. I suppose most of us would agree with the general proposition that prejudice—understood, let’s say, as a belief too easily embraced, unsupported by the evidence, and perhaps even contrary to the evidence—is not a good thing. We may still differ about what beliefs are examples of prejudice. Many of us, prior to reading Spinoza, might not think all the beliefs he would call prejudices are unreasonable to believe. His list would include some very common opinions: that everything has some purpose, that God has created everything for some end, that he created man to worship God. These examples come from the Appendix to Part I of the Ethics. In the Preface to the TTP, Spinoza mentions a number of others: that the clergy deserve the highest honor, that religion consists in mysteries, and that in interpreting Scripture, we must assume it is everywhere true and divine. Only when we see what beliefs Spinoza considers to be prejudices can we appreciate the implications of his attack. And we will not easily see that if the translation obscures the range of things he thinks come under that heading.

So there’s good reason to translate the central terms of a philosopher’s work as consistently as you can. That’s why I originally began this Glossary-Index. I wanted to be as consistent as I could in my treatment of key terms. Since I did not always remember the choices I had made, I needed to keep track of them. Early on, realizing how frequently I found it necessary to depart from a one-to-one correspondence,² I decided that it would be good to share this information with my readers. I was already indexing the terms as they occurred in the Latin text, and recording the English terms I used to translate them. If I made this information available to my reader, that might help her see how Spinoza uses his language, bringing together the different passages in which he uses a given Latin term, and making the connection between those passages transparent when a variety of translations would otherwise obscure the connection. It seemed to me that if I explained in the Index how the terms in Spinoza’s text are correlated with the terms in my translation—and in addition used the Glossary to comment on translation issues and Spinoza’s usage—this might reduce some of the problems inherent in translation. Making this information available might also help the reader find alternatives in cases where she feels that I did not make the best choice. In some cases, it might even be helpful to think of the options not chosen as in a way present, even if not made explicit in a particular passage.³ Here are the principles I’ve followed in constructing my index:

1) I’ve tried to record the most philosophically interesting uses of the most important terms in Spinoza’s philosophical vocabulary. If a term occurs very frequently, I take that as prima facie evidence that it is important, though I may be selective in the occurrences I record. For example, the term pars, normally translated “part,” occurs quite frequently, and in some uses has considerable importance for Spinoza’s philosophy. Letter 32 illustrates this abundantly. Other uses are of no philosophical interest. For example, in TTP xii, 39, Spinoza uses the phrase maxima hominum pars to express the idea that most men would not do something. So I include the former instances, but not the latter. Generally I do not index terms which occur rarely, preferring to use a footnote to explain their meaning, if that seems necessary. But if a term is important enough, I may index it, even if it occurs infrequently. Sometimes the fact that an important term occurs infrequently is interesting in itself. (Conatus would be an example.)

2) Normally I group etymologically related terms together, except when I think this will produce too cumbersome an entry. This has the advantage, often, of bringing together terms whose close relationship is obvious in the language of the text, but not in the language of the translation. Index entries generally begin with a noun, followed by related verbs, adjectives, and so forth. But where a verb or adjective occurs much more frequently than any noun related to it, the entry may begin with the verb or adjective.

3) Phrases involving two or more words—e.g., aeterna veritas—are generally indexed as subentries under the noun in the phrase (or the more important noun, in a phrase which contains two nouns). But I have tried to avoid multiplying subentries, and do not include the Dutch translations of these phrases.

4) The primary initial purpose of the Glossary was to enable readers to go from the English of the translation to the Latin of the index. Sometimes the English term is so similar to the Latin it translates that someone looking in the index for a word very like the English term would quickly find the right term. So looking for a word that looks like “absurd” would quickly lead to the right result. In those cases I create a Glossary entry for the English term only if I have something to say about Spinoza’s use of the corresponding Latin term. But often the relation between the English term and the Latin it translates is not obvious. To take a straightforward example, I use two English terms, “repeal” and “disregard,” to translate the Latin abrogare, depending on whether the action of abrogation is taken by a legal authority or by a citizen subject to that authority. In neither case will looking for a word similar to the English words quickly lead you to the right Latin term.

5) References to specific passages of biblical books will be indexed under Biblical and Talmudic References. But references to entire books of the Bible appear in the Index of Proper Names.

6) I italicize occurrences of formal definitions, quasi-definitions (where Spinoza uses sive to indicate something like an equivalence), and passages where the word or phrase attracts attention in a note. Where Spinoza gives different definitions in different places, my policy is to make each definition an italicized entry.

7) I continue the policy adopted in Volume I of recording the terms used by Spinoza’s seventeenth-century Dutch translators, taking the terms used in the TP and Correspondence from the NS, wherever possible, and those used in the TTP from De Rechtzinnige Theologant. I do think it’s useful to see how Spinoza’s contemporary Dutch translators dealt with his Latin, particularly when they found it necessary to use a variety of different words. But I do not claim to have recorded all the terms they used.

8) Since I’m placing the Annotations to the TTP on the Gebhardt page which the annotation annotates, I index the terms which occur in those notes as if the term in question occurred on the page annotated.

There are certain important words of frequent occurrence which require some explanation, but which I haven’t attempted to index, or create a glossary entry for. The prime example is sive (or seu), which I standardly translate by an italicized “or.” Sometimes, at least, Spinoza uses this connective to indicate a kind of equivalence, or (as I put it above) “something like” an equivalence, between the terms or phrases sive links. Put thus generally and vaguely, I suppose this is a proposition most commentators on Spinoza would accept.⁴ But as I noted briefly inVolume I (p. xv) we can’t always take sive to indicate a simple equivalence. Here I’ll attempt to say something more about Spinoza’s use of this important term.

(i) Sometimes Spinoza’s use of sive does mark an unproblematic equivalence. For example, at III/177/4–5, Spinoza writes that

no doctrines pertain to the catholic or universal faith which can be controversial among honest men.

Here “universal” (universalis) is just what “catholic” (catholica) means in this context. A decent dictionary would tell us that “universal” is a candidate translation; considerations of context would quickly narrow the field to this meaning.

(ii)  Sometimes what we have is arguably an equivalence in which the second disjunct provides an alternate phrasing which offers what we might now call “an analysis” or theoretical definition of the term with which it’s linked, language which is supposed to give us a deeper understanding of what the first disjunct means (or at least, what it means in Spinoza’s philosophy). This seems to me the right way to view the use of sive in Definition 5 of Part I of the Ethics:

By mode I understand the affections of a substance, or that which is in another, through which it is also conceived.

How helpful this explanation actually is will depend, of course, on how well we understand what it is for one thing to “exist in” another or “be conceived through” another. But I think this usage of sive occurs quite frequently in Spinoza. (E I D1 might provide another example.)

(iii) Sometimes sive introduces an alternate way of putting things which does not involve an equivalence, but is arguably more precise than the initial way, as in:

subjects are . . . under the control of the Commonwealth, insofar as they fear its power or threats. (III/287/12–14)

or

both a state which one city alone controls, and especially a state which several cities control, is everlasting (aeternum), or can’t be dissolved or changed into another form by any internal cause. (III/358/10–12)

This is one standard Latin usage. Cf. the OLD 9b.

(iv) Sometimes we have what is clearly neither an equivalence nor a clearer or more precise way of putting things:

This alliance remains firmly established so long as the reason for making the alliance—the fear of loss or hope of profit—continues to motivate both parties. (III/290/11)

or

if every descendant of the King were permitted to marry or to have children. (III/316/3–4)

We need to be aware of this possibility, if we’re not to take the mere use of sive to entail more than it actually does.

(v) And sometimes, though Spinoza may even say explicitly that one thing is the same thing as another, we should probably regard this as a persuasive definition, that is, an attempt, by stipulation, to get us to regard as equivalent two things whose identity is not obvious. Here’s an example which occurs in TTP xiv:

The teaching of the Gospel . . . contains nothing but simple faith: to trust in God, and to revere him, or (what is the same thing), to obey him. (xiv, 8)

Other examples which might fall in this category—though in these cases there is no explicit affirmation of the identity of the two things—include the reference to the “natural power, or Right, of men” (III/277/15) and the reference to “the King’s sword, or right” (III/319/6). In each of these cases the purpose of the identification seems to be to clothe the first disjunct with the aura of the second.

This has an interest which goes beyond the particular cases so far mentioned. The most important examples of the use of sive, from the standpoint of understanding Spinoza’s philosophy, occur in the Preface to Part IV of the Ethics, where he twice uses the famous phrase Deus seu natura (II/206/23, 26–27). Nowhere else in his works does Spinoza use this language. What does he mean by it? I don’t think we know, at this stage of our studies. But to decide what it might mean we need to examine, with some care, Spinoza’s many uses of sive. I hope that this edition will advance a discussion which needs to take place by organizing some of the necessary data.

Another problematic word of frequent occurrence is quatenus. In company with other translators I normally translate quatenus by “insofar as.” But lately I have come to think that this may be misleading. Quatenus is ambiguous. Of the various possible meanings recognized in the OLD the two which seem most relevant are: (1) “to the extent to which” indicating scope (and implying that there is some limit to the scope); and (2) “inasmuch as” or “seeing that,” implying causal force. (Cf. OLD B7 and B8.) I believe Spinoza scholars tend to assume quatenus has the first meaning. I have thought this myself, though without, it now seems to me, carefully thinking out the implications of this interpretation. But I now think there are contexts where that interpretation is impossible, and the second is clearly indicated: e.g., III/58/9. (Surely it is not the case that man is only to some extent a part of nature.) I have not tried to resolve this ambiguity in my translation, partly because of the difficulty of deciding, in many cases, which interpretation is best, and partly because I suspect that the English “insofar as” may have the same ambiguity. See the discussion of this term in the Continuum Companion 2011.

In Volume II, my resource of first resort in investigating the possible meanings of Latin terms has generally been the Oxford Latin Dictionary. But as helpful as that work is, I have found myself frequently consulting the Brepolis Database of Latin Dictionaries, which includes not only Lewis and Short’s Latin Dictionary (still quite useful) and Forcellini’s Lexicon, but also a number of dictionaries recording later Latin usage, like DuCange’s Glossarium and Chauvin’s Lexicon philosophicum. For Dutch the dictionary I have gone to first is Jansonius’s Nieuw Groot Nederlands-Engels Woordenboek (2nd ed., 3 vols., 1972). Where Jansonius did not help, I consulted Van Dale’s Groot Woordenboek van de Nederlandse Taal (14th ed., 3 vols., 2005).

1. Principles of Philosophy I, 71, 75. Anyone who has access to the Past Masters database (InteLex version) can now easily see how often praejudicium, préjugé, and their variant forms occur in the Adam and Tannery edition of Descartes’ works and in the Gebhardt edition of Spinoza’s.

2. For cases where I would claim that it’s quite necessary to use different English terms for the same Latin term, see the entries below on EVIL and RIGHT. Perhaps the most interesting cases where it seems to me essential to maintain virtually absolute consistency concern the terms multitudo, vulgus, plebs, and populus, discussed below under MULTITUDE, COMMON PEOPLE, ORDINARY PEOPLE, PEOPLE. On this see Balibar 1985b/1989.

3. Sometimes translators try to make the ambiguity of a term explicit by offering a double translation. For example, Glazemaker will sometimes translate jura by (the Dutch equivalent of) “laws and rights.” This might be acceptable on a limited basis, but doing it systematically would produce a translation which was virtually unreadable.

4. See, for example, Piet Steenbakkers’ entry on this term in The Continuum Companion to Spinoza 2011.

Glossary

ABSOLUTE

Absolutus

Generally I use the English cognate for absolutus. But there were contexts in which an alternative seemed better: sometimes “unconditional” or “finished” (or for adverbial forms, “without qualification,” “without reservation,” “without exception,” etc.) seemed to me to convey more clearly the sense absolutus had in the context.

In political contexts, however, absolutus has a theoretical importance I don’t think it has elsewhere. There I felt it necessary to stick consistently to “absolute.” Spinoza’s usage is influenced by Hobbes, who had a regress argument designed to show that any government must provide for someone (some individual human being or group of human beings) to be the final decision maker, and thus to have absolute power, i.e., a power not at risk of being overridden by any other human will. Cf. Hobbes DCv, vi, 18, and Grotius 1625/1683, I, iii, 7. Hampton 1986, 98–105, has a useful discussion of Hobbes’ argument.

ACCOMMODATE

Accommodare

Frequently the TTP uses this verb to indicate that the way scriptural revelation is expressed reflects the limited understanding either of the prophets themselves or of their audience. But he makes an exception to this generalization for Jesus. Cf. i, 41; iv, 17, 29–31.

ACTION, ACT

Actio, actus, factum

Actio is used most frequently to refer to human actions, but also sometimes to the actions of God and of nature. In this volume I have not found it used in the special sense it has in the Ethics (E III D3). At TTP vi, 43, God’s action is identified with the refraction and reflection of the sun’s rays which produces the rainbow.

Actus occurs only infrequently in Volume II, and then without any apparent distinction between it and actio, never to refer to the actualization of a potentiality. Factum occurs occasionally in the sense of “action,” e.g., at TTP xx, 21.

ADVANTAGE

Commodum

AFFECT

Affectus

Affectus is a technical term in Spinoza’s philosophical psychology, which translators have often rendered by “emotion.” I don’t find that broad enough to cover the various states Spinoza includes under that heading. He counts as affects desire and dispositions or character traits (such as nobility and tenacity). We must also remember that an affect is not just a psychological item. E III D3 defines an affect as an affection of the body, by which its power of acting is increased or diminished, and at the same time the ideas of these affections. We should not equate affects with passions (though Spinoza himself is not always careful about that distinction). When we ourselves are an adequate cause of the affect, it is an action in the technical sense of E III D2.

AFFIRMATION, APPROVAL

Approbatio

AGE, CENTURY, GENERATION

Saeculum

Saeculum is ambiguous among the various terms I’ve used to translate it. Often it is difficult to be sure how long a period of time Spinoza had in mind. In my English usage a generation is only about a quarter of a century, whereas an age might last for several centuries. In biblical studies a generation is sometimes taken to be a period of forty years. Sometimes it may not matter which English term we use. When it does matter, I’ve tried to be conservative in my translation, so as not to make Spinoza seem to overstate his case. In TTP viii, 17 and 20, Spinoza says that the author of the Pentateuch lived many saecula after Moses. We might translate saecula by “century” here. Spinoza does believe, and will subsequently argue, that the author of the Pentateuch is also the “author” (i.e., person primarily responsible for the final version) of the historical sequence from Joshua through 2 Kings, and so must have lived no earlier than the post-exilic period, several hundred years after the time when we suppose Moses to have lived. But in TTP viii, 17 and 20, Spinoza has not argued that yet, and what he has argued at that point supports only the weaker conclusion. So I attribute to him only the weaker claim: many generations.

AGREE, AGREEMENT

Convenire, consensus

Convenire is the verb Spinoza uses in the TP to describe the act of two (or more) people who make an agreement to unite their forces (ii, 13). The act of agreement in itself creates no rights, except insofar as it expresses a shared intention to work together, which, to the extent that it is stable, increases the power of the parties. It is the increased power which, on Spinoza’s theory, gives rise to the rights they jointly have to protect themselves and, in general, to pursue their common interests (ii, 15). Consensus is the noun he uses in that context to refer to the agreement they make (ii, 16–17).

But in a number of passages “consent” seemed the more apt translation for consensus: e.g., TTP iv, 36, where consensus is required for the faith which justifies in Paul; or in TTP v, 8, where the subject is Jesus’ condemnation of our inclinations to violate the moral law in Matthew 5:28; in TTP v, 25, where it’s the consent of the citizens in a democracy to their laws; and in TTP viii, 23, where it’s the consent of the people of Israel to the covenant at Mount Sinai.

ALLIANCE, ALLY

Foedus, confoederatus

ANGER

Ira

A PRIORI/A POSTERIORI

A priori/a posteriori

Since the time of Leibniz the most common use of these Latin terms has been to mark a distinction between truths which can be known independently of experience (Leibniz’s “truths of reason”) and truths knowable only by appeal to experience (Leibniz’s “truths of fact”). But there is an older usage, deriving ultimately from Aristotle, and common in scholastic philosophy, according to which knowing something a priori means knowing it by its cause, and knowing it a posteriori means knowing it from its effects. On the various forms this distinction can take, see Hamlyn 2006.

In the seventeenth century it is sometimes a difficult question which (if any) of these two senses is in play. Commentators on Descartes have found his use of these terms in the Second Replies (AT VII, 155–56) difficult to reconcile with either usage. Cf. Descartes 1963, II, 582n, with Descartes 1985, II, 110n. In the Spinozistic texts where these terms occur in Volume I (I/159/18–28, 250/3–6; II/54/2–5), it seems clear that Spinoza is using these terms in the Aristotelian/scholastic sense. Arguably that is also the sense in which Tschirnhaus and Spinoza use the term a priori in their correspondence. See Letters 59, 80, 82, and 83, and cf. AHW, 496.

ARISTOCRACY

Aristocratia

In the TTP and early in the TP, Spinoza’s use of this term seemed normal: an aristocracy is government by the few (who presumably become members of the ruling class by heredity). But in TP viii, 1, and TP xi, 1, Spinoza defines an aristocracy as a form of government in which the sovereign is a council made up of people chosen for that role, where the selection is done by the existing “aristocrats,” where in principle the whole people might be chosen as members of the governing council, and where no one has membership in the council as a matter of right, hereditary or otherwise. See also DEMOCRACY.

It should be understood that membership in the “aristocracy” in itself does not imply any kind of superiority. In TP viii, 2, Spinoza seems to think that few of those honored as aristocrats will possess genuine excellence. The “outstanding men” referred to there are not to be identified with those socially recognized as aristocrats.

ARMY, MILITARY

Militia

I have used both “army” and “military” for militia, but I take “military” to be a broader term, covering both land forces and naval forces. I suspect that the broader term is often more appropriate, given the importance of naval forces in the Dutch wars in Spinoza’s lifetime.

ART

Ars

Ars is much broader in its meanings than the English term derived from it, and occurs in a variety of senses, some positive, some negative, without its always being clear which is the best choice in the context. In addition to “art” I have used “skill,” “ingenuity,” “device,” and “cunning.”

In a context like TTP xx, 34, artes probably needs to be taken as ranging over fields of study not normally taken now as “arts,” including the sciences. (One classical sense of ars is “a systematic body of knowledge and practical techniques, an art or science.” See OLD 5a.) In TP i, 2, artes refers to the rules wise political leaders would follow.

Bonae artes, which I render “liberal studies,” occurs in two key passages in TTP xx (§§27 and 45), without its being clear from the context what studies Spinoza is referring to. My translation assumes he is thinking of studies which would free the mind. So there bonae artes might refer to the study of philosophy, literature, and history, but also to disciplines like biblical scholarship, which Spinoza thinks of as being, in principle, a science.

ARTICULATENESS

Eloquentia

ATHEISM

Atheismus

As noted in the Editorial Preface to the TTP (p. 48), people accused Spinoza of atheism before he had ever published anything which might have justified that accusation. Perhaps he had acquired that reputation because his excommunication was known to have been based partly on his having held that God “only exists philosophically.” (See Curley 2015a.) In any case, Spinoza’s desire not to be thought an atheist was one reason he wrote the TTP (Letter 30). But his rejection of traditional conceptions of God in that work only provided his critics with more grounds for their accusation.

His defense against the charge early in Letter 43—“atheists are accustomed to seek honors and riches immoderately. I’ve always scorned those things.” (IV/219b)—uses a common stereotype of atheists to escape the label. It’s understandable that Spinoza would wish to avoid being called an atheist, since that label had such negative connotations, but we might hope he could do better than that.

In my view his best defense would take the following line. He does affirm the existence of God (E I P11), conceived as an absolutely infinite being (E I D6), where an absolutely infinite being consists of infinite attributes, each of which expresses an eternal and infinite essence. He denies that this being possesses a will or an intellect or such affects as desire and love (E I P31). This doctrine underlies his rejection of the various anthropomorphisms mentioned in the Editorial Preface, p. 49.

The question, I think, is whether the advocates of organized religion are entitled to insist that anyone who does not accept their conception of God does not believe in God. Spinoza’s God does have a number of the properties traditional religions ascribe to God. It’s an immutable first cause of all things, active everywhere in the universe, uncaused by anything else. It’s also, Spinoza would argue, a being humans can love. He thinks the love of God is our greatest good. His God does not issue commands, or perform miracles, or reveal itself to man in the way the God of the monotheistic religions is supposed to do. It is not the sort of God you can pray to for help in times of trouble. I can understand thinking that belief in so different a God makes for a very different kind of religion. But I also think the ethical importance Spinoza attached to this belief weighs heavily in favor of regarding his view as a genuine, if eccentric, form of religious belief. (Here his reply to Van Velthuysen is helpful. See IV/220/28–221/20.)

Some people prefer to call Spinoza, not an atheist, but a pantheist. It’s undeniable that Spinoza, in some sense, identifies God with Nature (E IV Pref). This is perhaps the most common reason for calling Spinoza a pantheist. (See, for example, Yandell 1998 or Mander 2012.) But in what sense does he identify God with Nature? Not, it seems, in the sense that he thinks the universe, the totality of (finite) things, is God. See the exchange with Van Velthuysen in Letters 42 and 43 (IV/208/28–35, 223/5–10). Moreover, E I P29S indicates that God is to be identified with Natura naturans, not with Natura unqualified. Natura naturans appears there to be the attributes of substance, a conclusion confirmed by KV I, viii. Whatever exactly the attributes are, they can hardly be identified with everything there is.

One possible ground for classing Spinoza as a pantheist would appeal, not to the Deus sive Natura language, but to his statement in Letter 6 (IV/36) that he does not separate God from nature as other philosophers do. Here we might observe that Spinoza’s God is not really distinct from Nature (understanding by “Nature” the totality of finite things). As Descartes defined this phrase, things really distinct from each other must each be capable of existing without the other (AT VII, 162). Spinoza maintains not only (what any traditional religious philosopher would say) that finite things cannot exist without God (E I P15), but also that God cannot exist without finite things, since his production of them is a necessary consequence of his nature, not a matter of choice (E I P16).

This seems undeniably correct. But though this line of thinking calls attention to an important difference between Spinoza’s philosophy and traditional religious philosophy, it also brings home the fact that even on the traditional view God and Nature are not really distinct. To satisfy the Cartesian requirements for real distinction it would have to be the case that both God and Nature are capable of existing apart from each other. And that’s something traditional religious philosophy does not hold, since it maintains that Nature cannot exist without God.

AUTHOR, AUTHORITY

Author, authoritas

In classical Latin, author can mean (as in English) the originator or source of something (often, but not always, of a writing), or the person primarily responsible for an action or situation, or someone who has the authority to make a decision, or a writer who is an acknowledged expert in a subject. The first of these senses seems to be the most common one in Spinoza, though the second and third also occur, if rarely. I have not found the fourth sense. But in spite of the ambiguity of author, it seems that in Spinoza the related noun authoritas always occurs in the sense of “authority” and not “authorship.” TTP vii, 52, is a clear case. See also vii, 88–94. It is difficult to be sure that this is universal, and TTP vii, 25, is one context where “authorship” is plausible.

Closely related to author are the terms scriptor and scriba, which I have translated “writer” and “scribe.” Scriba occurs mainly in a stretch of text from III/135–45. It seems clear that in Spinoza’s usage a scriba is normally a copyist, and not an author in any of the common English senses of that term. His usage of scriptor is not so clear. Sometimes he seems to use author and scriptor interchangeably (e.g., in TTP vi, 59; vii, 15). Sometimes he makes a distinction between them: notably at TTP vii, 58. But it’s not obvious what that distinction is. I hypothesize that when he does make this distinction, he intends author to refer to someone who is the original composer of the work, whereas scriptor is a more general term, which might refer to the original composer, but might also refer to someone who is a copyist or even an editor. In favor of this, perhaps, is the slide from scriba to scriptor in TTP ix, 44–45.

An important context is viii, 44, where Spinoza makes a distinction between the supreme power in a state and authority.

BEING

Ens

BELIEVE

Credere

TO BIND, BE BOUND

Obligare, teneri, adstringi

Spinoza uses a variety of verbs which seem to indicate that someone has been put under a moral obligation, difficult though this may seem to be to reconcile with his moral philosophy. Passages where this seems to be true include TTP v, 15; xvi, 18, 24; and TP iv, 4–5. This last passage is particularly rich and interesting.

In some cases what binds is said to be jus naturale. This is puzzling for the reasons explained in the entry on LAW, RIGHT. We might try to avoid the awkwardness by taking a statement like “I’m bound (teneri) by jus naturale to choose the lesser of two evils” to mean, not that I’m obliged to make that choice, but simply that I can’t do otherwise. I’m not confident that this will work. Interesting is TTP xvi, 27, where what we are bound to do is something both compelled by necessity and urged by reason. In some cases what is said to bind is a passion, like hope or fear. See TTP xvi, 23.

BLESSEDNESS

Beatitudo

BODY, CORPOREAL, CORPOREALITY

Corpus

BONDAGE, SLAVERY

Servitus

CAPACITY

Capacitas

CARE, CONCERN, RESPONSIBILITY

Cura

Cura frequently occurs in contexts involving divine providence, such as TTP ii, 48; v, 38; vi, 37; vii, 27. But it has a wide range of uses, and seems to be properly translated “responsibility” in contexts like TP ii, 17, or viii, 16.

CASE

Casus

CATHOLIC, UNIVERSAL

Catholicus

In classical Latin catholicus (a Latinization of the Greek katholike) means “universal.” But as Christianity began to establish itself in the ancient world, its dominant branch claimed the title “universal” for itself, even though its universality was compromised by other branches. Normally when Spinoza uses catholicus he means “universal,” and that is my default translation of the term. Sometimes (mainly in the correspondence with Burgh and Steno) the term really does refer to the Catholic Church or its members. Cf. the Pléiade 1453–54.

CAUSE, REASON, EXPLANATION

Causa

The use of the Latin causa is much broader than is the use of its English cognate. So Spinoza and his correspondents frequently use it in contexts in which “reason” or “explanation” is a more natural translation. It also occurs quite frequently in the sense of a case or cause one might defend or fight for. I don’t index those (quite frequent) uses of causa which occur in what the OLD defines as “special ablatival senses,” such as lucri causa or hac de causa, where the term “cause” tends not to turn up in the translation.

CERTAIN

Certus

Certus is a problem. It is very natural to translate it by “certain,” which has the advantage that its many meanings tend to overlap those of its Latin cognate. But the ambiguity of “certain” has its downside. Which of the many possible senses is being used in the context? I have tried to restrict the use of “certain” to contexts where I thought the sense was “indubitable” or “indisputable” or “reliably to be expected,” or when I thought certus was being used “to particularize, but not further identify or describe.”

So the people who “immoderately desire incerta things” (TTP Pref., 4) are people who unreasonably desire things which are not reliably to be expected. See also TTP Pref., 23 or i, 1, uses of certus where it signifies indubitability. TTP Pref., 22 and 26 illustrate nicely the particularizing sense of certus. Since particularizing uses tend not to be interesting, they are generally not indexed.

Often, though, I have felt that “definite” or “fixed” best conveyed the meaning in the context. This is frequently true, for instance, in Letter 32. But the choice between “definite” and “fixed” is not always easy. In contexts where we have certa conjoined with determinata, I prefer “fixed” for certa, because I think Spinoza is usually speaking about a relationship which is constant over time (e.g., III/57/25; IV/172/18).

CERTAINTY (MATHEMATICAL, MORAL)

Certitudo (mathematica, moralis)

Spinoza defines mathematical certainty in TTP ii, 12. I take the definition there to mean that we possess mathematical certainty when the nature of the object we perceive makes it necessary for us to perceive the object in the way we do. This is the highest and most justified degree of confidence, such as we might have in the axioms of a mathematical system. Spinoza does not use the phrase certitudo metaphysica, but seems to mean by certitudo mathematica essentially what Descartes meant by metaphysical certainty (see his Principles of Philosophy IV, 206): a certainty which involves not only an absence of doubt, and not only the psychological inability to doubt, but the complete irrationality of doubt.

Spinoza does not define moral certainty, but clearly it involves an absence of mathematical certainty and a weaker justification. I believe he uses this phrase consistently with Cartesian usage (cf. Principles IV, 205): the person’s grounds for confidence will be sufficient to justify action, even in cases where there would be a significant cost in acting on a false belief. They do not exclude the possibility of error or doubt.

Important contexts are ADN. VIII (at III/111/12) and (though the terms “mathematical certainty” and “moral certainty” do not explicitly occur there) TTP xv, 36–37.

CHALDEAN

Chaldaeus

Spinoza uses the term “Chaldean” to refer to the language we now call Aramaic. See, for example, TTP viii, 25–26, where he uses this term to refer to an Aramaic translation (or paraphrase) of the Pentateuch, and x, 19, where he uses it to refer to those portions of Daniel which were written in Aramaic. See also SYRIAC and HEBREW.

CHANCE

Casus

When casus means “chance,” it often occurs in the ablative, casu, by chance. In this usage it is contrasted with what happens data opera, intentionally, as is explicit at III/137/5. Spinoza does not think his assertion that some things happen by chance implies an abandonment of his view that everything has a cause.

CHANGE

Mutatio

CHOICE; CHOOSE

Electio

CHURCH

Ecclesia

I take eccclesia to refer both to the building and to the institution. Spinoza does not restrict its use to Christian churches, but uses it also to speak of Judaism (e.g., at TTP xix, 55). ALM point out that this is a characteristic Calvinist usage, intended to emphasize the continuity between the Jewish people and Christian people.

CIRCUMSTANCE

Circumstantia, casus, conditio

CITIZEN, CIVIL

Civis, civilis

The translation of civis by “citizen” should be unproblematic. I take civilis (as applied to individuals) to mean “apt for life in a political society.” See e.g., TP x, 4, where civilis is translated “political,” and equated with being “civilized.” Civilis also occurs as modifying jus and vita.

CITY

Civitas, urbs

Civitas is ambiguous, frequently requiring translation by “city” (particularly in biblical discussions in the TTP), but more commonly (in the TP and the political portions of the TTP) by “state” or “commonwealth.” For a discussion of the latter translations, see the entries on COMMONWEALTH and STATE. Rarely did it seem necessary to render civitas by “citizenship,” though there are cases (TP viii, 42, and ix, 2). Urbs is unproblematic. It is always translated “city.”

CLAIM

Vendicare

Vendicare occurs several times in the OP text of the TP, meaning “to claim,” typically with the dative of the reflexive pronoun, sibi, or with ut suum. It is easily confused with vindicare, meaning “to enforce” (with an object like jus, or leges, or regulas, or contractus), or to revenge oneself or defend oneself (with sese), or avenge (with an object like damnum or injurias). Gebhardt did not know the distinction between the two terms. Vendicare occurs in the neo-Latin of the Renaissance, but not in classical Latin. So he systematically changed vendicare to vindicare whenever he encountered it in the OP text. Akkerman began the process of sorting these things out (in Akkerman 1980, 85), though he did not give an exhaustive enumeration of the passages where we need to read vendicare rather than vindicare, and there are some mistakes in his references (corrected in Proietti 1995, 24–25). In six cases the OP’s vendicare should be retained and Gebhardt’s emendation rejected: III/284/11, 315/26, 315/31, 326/3, 326/9, 326/13. In one the OP’s vindicare should be emended to vendicare: III/281/25.

CLAN

Familia

In the TTP it seemed generally unproblematic to render familia by its English cognate, “family.” (An exception: TTP iii, 48, which seemed to require “house of Israel.”) But the term didn’t bear much theoretical weight there. In the TP it does. And in the TP “family” will generally not do as a translation of familia, because this would suggest a much smaller group than Spinoza seems to be thinking of. There’s nothing in Spinoza’s introduction of the term in TP vi, 11, which suggests that members of the same familia are biologically related. Ramond has a useful discussion of this term in the TP, Proietti/Ramond, 289n18, though he arrives at a different decision than I do. Wernham used “tribe” for familia in the TP, which seems an acceptable alternative way of addressing the difficulty.

CLARITY, CLEAR, CLEARLY

Perspicuitas, clarus, evidenter

COMMAND

Jussus, mandatum, praeceptum

Generally it seems unproblematic to translate these terms by “command,” but in two passages in the TTP (iv, 26 and 38–39), it seems that it would be incorrect to so render praeceptum, Spinoza’s point being that divine imperatives cannot be properly regarded as commands.

COMMON PEOPLE

Vulgus

Spinoza does not have much good to say about the vulgus. They are generally wretched, not satisfied for long, eager for novelties to wonder at, inconstant, and easily manipulated by their rulers. Hostile to science, they are willfully ignorant of natural causes, inclined to anthropomorphic conceptions of God, and to belief in miracles. It is impossible to save them from fear and superstition (TTP Pref., 8, 15, 33; vi, 3–5).

As a result, there are certain things the common people will not easily understand, and teachers will have to accommodate their teachings to the limits of their understanding (TTP v, 35–40). Sometimes accommodating a doctrine to the understanding of the common people means teaching something false (e.g., that God is like a man); but sometimes it means trying to prove a true proposition by appeal to experience rather than demonstrative argument. When Spinoza says that the ingenium of the vulgus is not capable of perceiving things clearly and distinctly, he exaggerates even on his own principles, since the doctrine of the Ethics is that everyone has some adequate, or clear and distinct, ideas.

In general, Spinoza’s use of vulgus seems hard to reconcile with his support for democracy. But TP vii, 27, where Spinoza argues that the weaknesses of the vulgus are defects common to humans in general, and in political contexts to be excused by the ignorance in which their leaders keep them, may mark a change in attitude. Vulgus occurs frequently in the TTP, infrequently in the TP.

COMMONWEALTH

Civitas

Sometimes Spinoza uses civitas in the sense of “city” (see CITY). But in the TTP at least, he more often uses it as one of a number of terms which might be translated “state.” TTP xvi, 43–45 seems to illustrate this usage clearly. I had some temptation (following Hobbes in Leviathan) to translate civitas by “commonwealth,” to indicate that there is at least a verbal difference between civitas and the other terms which might be translated by “state,” like imperium. But since Spinoza gives civitas a special, technical meaning in TP iii, 1—“the whole body of the state,” which I take to mean “all the citizens of the state, considered as citizens of that state”—I decided to reserve “commonwealth” for that passage and others in the TP where that meaning seemed to be in play. This is not every passage where civitas occurs even in the TP. Earlier in that work (in i, 3) Spinoza seemed to be using civitas simply as a general term for “state,” without giving it any special meaning. And even after he has given it the official definition of iii, 1, there are passages where it does not seem that Spinoza intends to invoke that special meaning (TP iii, 12, for example). But other passages (like TP vii, 19) seem to reflect the official definition, and are accordingly translated “commonwealth.”

COMPASSION

Misericordia

COMPULSION

Coactio

CONDEMN

Damnare, see Damnum

CONFIRM

Confirmare

See the discussion of confirmare below, under PROVE.

CONJECTURE

Conjectura, hariolari

There may be some differences in meaning between these terms, but I have not thought it desirable to try to reflect that in the translation. Arguably, hariolari should mean “to divine,” but that doesn’t seem right in the few contexts where it occurs.

CONSENT

Consensus

Sometimes consensus is translated “agreement,” discussed above, under AGREE, AGREEMENT. Sometimes it’s translated “consent,” also discussed above. We also have contexts in which something consentaneus with something else is simply consistent with it, or in agreement with it (TTP ii, 43, 54).

CONSTANCY

Constantia

The recurrent notion of having a constant heart (i.e., animi constantia, in TTP, i, 40; ii, 31; iii, 45; iv, 7, 21, 38, 42, 50; x, 17, 18; xvi, 42; xvii, 13; Ep. 76, IV/318) is clearly very important for Spinoza’s moral philosophy. Cf. IV/259/22ff.

CONTEXT, CONTINUITY

Contextus

The Latin term has both meanings.

CONTINGENCY

Contingentia

TTP xix, 48, is a passage which deserves attention in the debate over Spinoza’s necessitarianism.

CONTRACT, COVENANT

Pactum, foedus, contractus

The term Spinoza normally uses in the TTP to refer to the human agreement to set up a state is pactum (or the cognate verb pacisci). Cf. TTP xvi, 14–15, 20, 23, 25. This terminology seems to be absent from the TP, which has encouraged some to say that Spinoza abandons the idea of a social contract in that work (perhaps for the reason suggested in the annotation of TTP xvi, 20). Still, the idea of a social contract remains present in the TP, even if it may not involve explicit mutual promises. See the Preface to the TP, and above, AGREE, AGREEMENT.

Spinoza also uses pactum quite frequently to refer the promises made by God to human beings, or the mutual agreements between God and human beings. (Sometimes divine covenants are unilateral, as in Genesis 12; sometimes they involve reciprocal promises, as in Exodus 19. On this, see Freedman 1964 and Curley 2004.) In religious contexts I use “covenant” for pactum; in political contexts, “contract.” I find no suggestion that Spinoza distinguishes between contracts and covenants in the way Hobbes did in De cive ii, 9–10 or Leviathan xiv, 9–11.

Spinoza also uses foedus quite frequently to refer to divine covenants. When he uses this term for an agreement between human beings, it usually refers to an alliance between nations, although the names he uses for the Dutch Republic (in TTP xvii, 54, and TP vii, 30) suggest that he thinks of it as a kind of alliance, rather than a unified state.

Contractus does not occur that frequently. In the TTP, first in xvi, 43, where it refers to an agreement between two states, which might be called a treaty, and is explicitly said to be binding just so long as the parties find it mutually advantageous. Pactum and contractus seem to be treated as synonyms.

CONTRADICTION, INCOHERENCE

Repugnantia

CORRUPTION

Adulterium, corruptio

COUNCIL

Concilium, consilium

COVENANT

See CONTRACT

CREDULITY

Credulitas

Credulitas does not always have the negative connotations of its English cognate, and sometimes requires translation by something like “trustingness.” A clear case occurs at TTP xiii, 14.

CRIME

Scelus

CROWD

Turba

CRUELTY

Saevitia

CUNNING

Astutus

For discussion, see SHREWD.

DANGER, RISK

Periculum

DEATH

Mors

DECENCY

See HONORABLE

DECEPTION

Dolus, fraus

For discussion, see FRAUD.

DECISION

Placitum, sententia, arbitrium, decretum

Any of the Latin terms may require translation by “decision” or “decree.” For decretum those are the only English terms I use. But though the other three Latin terms may all, in certain contexts, be translated “decision” or “decree,” sometimes they seem to require quite different treatment. So placitum frequently requires translation by “fancy” and sententia very frequently by “opinion.” There is an adjective related to arbitrium, arbitralis, which occurs only once (in TTP xi, 4), and seems to mean “discretionary.”

DECREE

Decretum, decretare

Akkerman (A, 503n) points out that decretare is not a classical term, and refers specifically to the act of making a religious decree. Spinoza seems to regard decretale as having the same connotation. At TTP vi, 43, God’s decretum is identified with the action and order of nature.

DEDUCTION, DEDUCE

Deduction, to deduce, show, etc.

I've allowed myself a certain freedom in translating terms in this family. It does not seem to me that arguments Spinoza refers to as deductions are deductive by our lights. For example, I don’t think that in TTP iv, 45, Spinoza means to attribute to Solomon a claim about what can be deduced from scientia. Similarly with the view ascribed to Paul in iv, 48.

DEED, ACTION, FACT

Factum

Generally I avoid using “fact” for factum, so as not to seem to be slanting the translation toward my interpretation of Spinoza’s metaphysics. I think the only place where I’ve used “fact” in this volume is at III/169/32, where it seemed harmless. But I do think that Spinoza thought about truth mainly in terms of a correspondence between thought and reality. The best evidence for this seems to me to be CM i, 6.

DEFENDER

Vindex, defensor

DELUSION; TO RAVE, BE INSANE, MAD

Delirium, delirare

DEMOCRACY

Democratia

In TTP xvi, 26, a democracy is defined as “a general [universus] assembly of men which has, as a body, the supreme right to do everything in its power.” Universus might be understood to mean that all men in the society, without exception, are members of the governing body. But I translate it by “general” here, because in TTP xx, 5, Spinoza defines a democratic state as one in which all or a great many of the people have the rule” (my emphasis). These definitions seem fairly traditional, as does the definition in TP ii, 17, where a democracy is a form of government in which the body which has sovereignty is made up of “the common multitude.”

Later in the TP, however, Spinoza’s definitions change. In TP viii, 1, and xi, 1, it appears that a democracy is any form of government in which membership in the governing body is a matter of right, not the choice of the existing members of the governing body. That right might be hereditary, or acquired by birth on the state’s territory (even if not to citizens), or based on service to the state. Depending on the criteria by which one acquires this right, it seems that it might be enjoyed by only a few. See also ARISTOCRACY, and the comments in McShea 1968 and Balibar 1985b/1989.

Spinoza thinks the original form of most states was democratic (TP viii, 12). Similarly Hobbes had thought that any non-democratic government must arise out of an initial democracy. Cf. Leviathan xviii, 1. But in Hobbes democracy might not last beyond the initial assembly which chose a form of government, and the government might go immediately from democracy to monarchy. Spinoza seems to envisage a more gradual process, with aristocracy being the natural second stage, and monarchy developing out of that.

DEMONSTRATION

Demonstratio

Spinoza regularly claims to demonstrate the things he is arguing for, even though the claims do not always fit the model of a demonstration according to which it involves deduction from self-evident premises, transmitting the absolute certainty of the premises to the conclusion. (The same is also true of some of his correspondents, like Steno.) See the discussion under NATURAL LIGHT.

For the notion of a “probative” demonstration (demonstratio ostensiva, equated with a demonstratio positiva at IV/278), see the note at IV/274.

DESIRE

Cupiditas, libido

Generally cupiditas and its cognates have a somewhat negative—in some cases, very negative—connotation. This is particularly true of libido, which tends to be thought of as an immoderate, overwhelming, or capricious (but not generally sexual) desire.

DETERMINE, DETERMINATE, LIMITED

Determinare, determinatus

Classically determinare commonly means to mark out the limits of something, or confine something within certain limits. This use frequently occurs, notably in Letter 35. The causal meaning which also frequently occurs (e.g., in IV/172/17) seems to have arisen in the medieval period.

DEVOTION

Devotio

In TTP xvii, 90, Spinoza equates devotio with a combination of love (amor) and wonder (admiratio).

DISDAIN

Contemtus

DIVINITY

Numen

DOCTRINE

Doctrina, dogma

The Latin dogma should not be translated by the English “dogma,” which now frequently has the connotation, not present in the Latin, of “an imperious or arrogant declaration of opinion” (OED), of uncritical and unjustified acceptance. Spinoza uses the term dogma to describe the conclusions he himself has reached about prophecy, on the basis of his careful examination of scripture (TTP vi, 65), and I do not think that in that context he wishes to criticize himself. Similarly, he uses dogma to refer to the simple (and presumably evident) teachings of Jesus in TTP xi, 22, where he is contrasting them favorably with the philosophical speculations engaged in by Paul. Since dogma in these contexts seems to be simply a synonym for doctrina, I have used “doctrine” to translate them both.

Sometimes Spinoza uses dogma to characterize the teachings of someone who speaks with authority, without offering reasons for what he says (e.g., TTP xi, 4, 7). I don’t see implicit criticism in these contexts, and in those cases I have used “authoritative judgment” for dogma. I revert to “doctrine” in TTP xiv, 10, where Spinoza is introducing the dogmata of the universal faith. I take it that what makes Spinoza favor the term dogma there is simply the fact that he is attempting to define the creed of a universal religion, but that nothing is implied about the manner in which these doctrines are held. It’s a matter of some importance to Spinoza that the doctrines defining the universal religion be few in number. Cf. TTP xi, 22; xix, 54 and 62.

In the one occurrence of the adverb, dogmatice (TTP xv, 5), I have rendered it “as doctrine.” Cf. Letter 42 (IV/210) on a distinction all theologians are alleged to accept.

DOGMATIST

Dogmaticus

Spinoza uses dogmaticus in only one context, TTP xv, 1, where he opposes it to scepticus. He does not define dogmaticus, but does define scepticus as someone who denies the certainty of reason. I presume then that a dogmaticus is someone who affirms the certainty of reason. By that criterion Spinoza would consider himself a dogmaticus. This would be consistent with what I understand to be his evaluatively neutral use of the term dogma. What is objectionable about the dogmatists considered in TTP xv is not their belief in the certainty of reason, but their belief that we must interpret Scripture in a way which makes it consistent with what we know through reason.

DOUBT

Dubitatio

DREAM

Somnium

DUTY

Officium

Officium has a range of meanings—including function, office, service, favor—and often it is difficult to tell which best fits the context. But duty is perhaps the most common translation. The occurrences in TTP v are particularly interesting.

EGYPT, EGYPTIAN

Aegyptus

ELITE

Optimi

“Elite” is my preferred translation for optimi, but I would not claim that Spinoza thinks those who are considered the “elite” in any partcular society are in fact the best members of that society, but just that they are widely thought to be.

END

Finis

Spinoza has no hesitation about ascribing ends to things. Usually it seems most natural to suppose that the ends are those of humans (e.g., TTP iii, 20; iv, 5, 9, 13–15; vii, 56; TP v, 6), though it’s still a matter of debate among Spinoza scholars whether he allows that humans may act for the sake of an end. (See my exchange with Bennett in Curley and Moreau 1990.) I think the view that he denies ends to God is, or should be, universal, given the firm rejection of divine teleology in the Appendix to Part I of the Ethics. There are some passages in the TTP which might encourage attributing ends to God (e.g., TTP ii, 53; xiv, 36), but I think these should be understood as an accommodation to popular ways of thought.

ENDURANCE

Tolerantia

In general Spinoza does not use tolerantia with the meaning their English cognate now generally has: the practice of being, or disposition to be, patient with or indulgent to, the opinions or practices of others (OED). But tolerare does occur in that sense in Van Velthuysen, where tolerance of different forms of worship is approved (Letter 42, IV/215/32) and in Spinoza, where tolerance of absurdities, like the Catholic doctrine of the Eucharist, is not approved (Letter 76, IV/319/11).

ENMITY, ENEMY

Hostilitas

ENVY

Invidia

EQUALITY

Aequalitas

As a strictly mathematical concept, equality finds its most interesting use in Spinoza’s discussion of gaming in Letter 38. The index ignores other mathematical uses.

Uses not strictly mathematical tend to be more interesting philosophically, as when Spinoza argues that God cares equally for all (TTP vi, 37), and that the Jews would have been no less blessed if God had called everyone equally to salvation (TTP iii, 4). Political contexts emphasize that not all men are equally able to do all things (TTP v, 19), and that men find it extremely hard to bear being subservient to their equals (TTP v, 22). As a result, society will be best organized if men do not have to be subservient to their equals (TTP v, 24; xvii, 87). All are equal in the state of nature; so they should remain equal in civil society (TTP xvi, 36). Spinoza hopes to achieve this by requiring that laws be enacted by common consent, so that all citizens remain equally free (TTP v, 25).

In the TP, however, the emphasis is on monarchies and aristocracies, where it is given that not all men are (politically) equal. But there preserving as much equality as possible among the citizens is an important goal (TP vii, 18, 20; viii, 11). Great inequality among the citizens leads to envy, constant grumbling, and, in the end, rebellions (TP vii, 13).

EQUITY, FAIRNESS, RIGHTEOUSNESS

Aequitas, aequus

I find it difficult to translate aequitas and its cognates consistently. The phrase aequum et bonum occurs with some frequency in the TTP; when it does, I have consistently translated it as “the right and the good.” Cf. ii, 10, 34; iii, 37; vii, 11; xiv, 30; xv, 30. “The just and the good” would be a plausible alternative, but I wanted to reserve “just” for justus. Spinoza does distinguish between justitia and aequitas in various places (e.g., TTP xix, 8 and 19), and I wanted a way to reflect that distinction.

In the quotation from Ecclesiastes in iii, 38, aequus seems to require “righteous” (sanctioned, I think, by Stelten’s entry on aequitas, but not, so far as I can see, by Lewis and Short or the OLD). In this spirit, at TTP vii, 30, where the kingdom of God (regnum divinum) is said to be that of those who love aequitas, I chose “righteousness” as the best term for aequitas. On the other hand, at TP iv, 1, where aequum is equated with what must be done, and iniquum with what must not be done, I felt that the passage called for “right“ and “wrong.“

Sometimes “equity” seems to be the right translation of aequitas. An example occurs at TTP xvi, 42, where Spinoza equates equity with justice, understood as a settlement of disputes which treats all parties as equals, and does not treat either the rich or the poor unfairly.

In TTP xvii, 15, where Spinoza contends that people’s judgments about what is aequum and iniquum are commonly biased by self-interest and other affects, I have translated these terms “fair” and “unfair.” Considerations of fairness seem to dominate at TP vi, 32; vii, 22 and 28.

ERROR

Error, menda

Sometimes “error” translates its Latin cognate, sometimes (without any distinction that I can see) menda. TTP x, 30–31, seems to show that the two terms are used interchangeably.

ESCAPE

Effugium

Spinoza follows Tremellius in using the Latin effugium to translate a well-known passage in Paul’s letter to the Romans in which he maintains that, even without the benefit of divine revelation, men are “without excuse” (as his language is usually translated) if they disobey God’s law (1:20), because what the law requires is “written on their hearts” (2:15). Cf. TTP iv, 47, and xvi, 53 (incl. ADN. XXXIV). Though saying that men are without escape gives the passage an unfamiliar ring, the discussion at iv, 47–50, does not suggest a serious misunderstanding of Paul’s thought.

ESSENCE

Essentia

The phrase “ideal essence” is rare in Spinoza, occurring in this volume in TP ii, 2, and elsewhere, it seems, only in Volume I at IV/77/33.

ESTEEM, SELF-ESTEEM, LOVE OF ESTEEM

Gloria

See the discussion in the Glossary to Volume I.

ETERNITY; ETERNAL, EVERLASTING; FROM ETERNITY; TO ETERNITY, FOREVER

Aeternitas; aeternus; ab aeterno; in aeternum

If Spinoza adhered strictly to the usage defined in E I D8, he would use aeternitas and its cognates only in connection with necessary beings. But Spinoza is not strict in his use of aeternitas and related terms. Sometimes he uses them (contrary to the definition of eternity at E I D8) when the entity in question is not an absolutely necessary being. Clear cases occur in TTP xvii, 85, 103, 112; xviii, 1, 6; TP vii, 25, 27; and TP viii, 3. In such cases I have taken the liberty of using terms like “everlasting,” “permanent,” and “forever.” Cf. Ramond’s note to TP x, 9.

EVALUATION

Aestimatio

EVENT

Casus

EVIDENT

Constare

Constare (as an impersonal verb) is one of several expressions Spinoza uses to express the idea that something is clearly established (not usually self-evident in the sense that notion commonly has in English, but typically made clear by the evidence available). This expression and others equivalent to it occur so frequently that it would be tedious to enumerate them all. The indices are only representative. That usage of constare is definitely the most frequent in our texts. But it also occurs in the sense of “consist of” or “be made up of.“

EVIL, BAD

Malus

In the Glossary to Volume I, I noted that while I would have liked to consistently translate malus by “bad,” on the ground that “evil” has connotations which seem inappropriate to Spinoza’s philosophy, whereas “bad” doesn’t, I found it impossible to adopt that policy. I still have the same ambivalence, but hope now to give a better explanation of my practice. I begin with a much condensed summary of the OED accounts of current usage of “evil” and “bad.“

In modern English “bad” is typically used in a privative sense to mean “not good,” specifically, of poor quality, or lacking good or favorable qualities, or not of the expected or required quality. So, food may be bad because unpalatable, or unfit for consumption; a currency may be bad because debased; air may be bad because not healthy; a person may be bad because not dependable; and so on.

“Evil” tends to have what the OED describes (unhappily, perhaps) as a more “positive” sense, often implying, not just a failure to live up to certain standards, but moral depravity, wickedness, or viciousness. It often implies a much stronger condemnation than “bad,” and blameworthiness. It is “the most comprehensive adjectival expression of disapproval, dislike, or disparagement,” but “in modern, colloquial English it is little used.”

Spinoza tends to regard human failings as things we may regard as bad, but should not blame. They are not the consequences of uncaused decisions by a faculty of free will, which makes the bad person the ultimate originator of his bad deeds. They are the inevitable results of the history of the world prior to the bad deeds. I think this is why Spinoza writes, in Letter 78, that someone who goes mad because of a dog’s bite is to be excused, though rightly suffocated. (Similarly, and perhaps more helpfully, in Letter 58.) In this spirit he will write that his aim is not to curse human actions, but to understand them. (Cf. TP i, 4, with E III Pref.)

But I don’t think this prevents him from calling bad conduct wicked. From TP iv, 4, it seems that he considered Nero an example of such conduct. And from TP v, 7, it seems that what he admired most in Machiavelli was his ability to coolly explain why the features of tyrants’ political situations tend to make them tyrannical, the better to see what kind of environment is needed to avoid such consequences. Spinoza is not interested in assigning blame. But this does not mean that he will accept bad conduct and not try to do something about it.

People who think we should never use the term “evil” to translate malus should make a survey of the passages where Spinoza uses the closely related term, malitia. Sometimes the English cognate “malice” will do as a translation of malitia, but sometimes I think “wickedness” is unavoidable. See, for example, III/162, 165 (2x), 182, 274, 295, and IV/308.

EXAMPLE, PATTERN, COPY

Exemplar, exemplum

There’s considerable overlap in the meanings of the two Latin terms. TTP i, 20, is a key passage in which Spinoza uses both terms, apparently taking exemplar to be a pattern or model, and exemplum to be an example of that pattern. But the use of exemplaria to mean copies is very common (e.g., in Letters 29 [IV/165], 46 [IV/233, 234], 62 [IV/273], 72 [IV/305]). Exemplum is frequently used in the phrase exempli gratia, occurrences of which are not indexed. Mostly it seems to mean “example,” and I think never means “pattern” or “model.“

EXCOMMUNICATE

Excommunicare

Though excommunicare occurs infrequently, it’s important to be clear about its use. Spinoza’s own excommunication by his congregation in 1656 was a turning point in his life; his treatment of this concept in TTP xviii and xix may bear the marks of that event, though he never explicitly calls attention to his own excommunication. Typical English use of “excommunication” is colored by Christian usage, where it normally means “being cut off from participation in communion and other religious sacraments or services.” Since the Jewish tradition does not have these sacraments, we might wonder what excommunication can mean there. The following summarizes the discussions in Nadler 1999, 120–29 and Greenberg and Cohn 2007.

The Hebrew term often translated “excommunication,” cherem, might better be translated “ban.” (Sometimes it is.) The cherem was frequently used as a disciplinary measure in the Amsterdam Sephardic community, where it was inflicted for a wide variety of offenses, some quite minor, others more serious. These might involve violations of specifically religious rules (e.g., regarding the purchase of kosher meat) or offenses against moral rules not peculiar to the Jewish community (such as the prohibition on adultery).

The punishment varied greatly in its severity. It always involved some form of separation from the community, which cut the excommunicated person off, both from participation in the congregation’s religious life and from any business or social dealings with its members. But it was not generally expected that the separation would be permanent. Often its duration was quite short, and might be terminated by performing some penance. Though the power to excommunicate had traditionally been vested in the community’s rabbinical court, in seventeenth-century Amsterdam this was a decision for the lay leaders (normally in consultation with the rabbis on questions involving possible violations of Jewish law).

The cherem proclaimed against Spinoza was unusually severe in the vehemence of its language and in the absence of any suggestion that he might have his sentence lifted by showing repentance. It made it impossible for him to continue running the family business with his brother, and forced him to seek some other way to make a living. His case also illustrates that excommunication was not used only to punish or correct bad behavior, but also to suppress the expression of heterodox ideas. (Spinoza was accused of “evil opinions” and “evil acts,” but the document proclaiming the cherem does not say what the acts were, and it seems likely that they consisted of failures to observe the requirements of Jewish law.)

The use of the cherem as a disciplinary measure is apparently not biblical, but dates from the first two centuries of the common era. The later concept shows a significant evolution from the biblical usage, where cherem has quite a different meaning. Greenberg defines cherem as “the status of that which is separated from common use or contact either because it is proscribed as an abomination to God or because it is consecrated to Him.” This might include inanimate objects, like buildings or cities, and was not limited to people. This helps to explain some of Spinoza’s examples.

EXCUSE, EXCUSABLE

Excusare, excusabilis

The question whether, prior to revelation, men are excusable for their disobedience to divine law, arises at several places in the TTP (e.g., at iv, 47–50; xvi, 6; and xvi, 53). The question whether Spinoza’s necessitarianism makes everyone excusable is prominent in the correspondence with Oldenburg (Letters 75, 77, and 78).

EXPERIENCE

Experientia

Spinoza is commonly classed (along with Descartes and Leibniz) as a rationalist in epistemology, where that label is supposed to mean something like: someone who allows experience to play no significant role in the acquisition of knowledge, preferring to rely on deduction from self-evident truths. For a more detailed discussion, see Curley 1992a or 1973. Most competent historians of the period now reject this stereotype, for reasons of the sort discussed in the first article cited. Tracking the references to experience in this volume would provide a good deal of evidence to raise doubts. See also FOUNDATION.

EXPERIENCED, EXPERT

Peritus

Absent indications to the contrary, my default translation of peritus would be “experienced” or “expert.” “Learned” would also be a candidate, but I reserve that for doctus. I note that peritus is Spinoza’s standard translation of the Hebrew חכם. In those contexts I have adopted “wise.” Spinoza frequently contrasts the periti with the uneducated multitude, the common people, whom he thinks of as the primary audience of Scripture. In those contexts I’ve also used “wise” for periti.

EXPERTISE

Peritia

EXPLANATION

Explicatio

EXPLICITLY

Expresse, ex professo

Classical usage would suggest that ex professo ought to mean “openly” or “intentionally.” Glazemaker consistently takes it to mean the latter, and sometimes that fits. Notably in TTP vii, 56. But more often Spinoza seems to use this phrase as a synonym for expresse. Cf. TTP vii, 28, and xiii, 24, for clear cases. And often “in detail” seems to better fit the context.

EXPRESS

Exprimere

Deleuze 1968/1992 was certainly right to emphasize the importance of this term for Spinoza’s philosophy, and it was a defect of Volume I that I did not pay it more attention in the Glossary of that volume. To mention only occurrences in Part I of the Ethics, it crops up in a number of quite critical passages: D6 & its Exp.; P8S2 (II/50), P10S (II/52), P11, P14D, P16D, P19D, P20D, P23D, P25C, P29S, P31D, P32D, and P36D. Regrettably, at this point I still don’t feel able to say anything helpful about it.

FACE

Facies

It’s been common in English translations of Spinoza to render the phrase facies totius universi, which Spinoza gives in Letter 64 as an example of a mediate infinite mode of extension, by “the face of the whole universe,” and then to explain that Spinoza identifies this with the highest order individual which he describes in E II L7D. I don’t mind perpetuating this translation, provided that we accompany it with a proper explanation, but that its usual interpretation is right seems to me dubious.

Most occurrences of facies in Spinoza are in his translations of biblical passages where Moses is said to have spoken to God “face to face.” In those contexts (TTP i, 14, 21, 24; ii, 43; viii, 15, 17) “face” is no doubt right (though it may need an explanation). But those passages are irrelevant to deciding how to translate Letter 64.

When facies is not used to translate the biblical texts (e.g., in TTP xvii, 18; TP vi, 2; vii, 25; and in Volume I, at II/136/10), it generally seems to mean “form” or “aspect.” Those alternatives deserve to be considered in Letter 64, since they might avoid some of the difficulties generated by some views of the infinite modes.

I take it that what Spinoza is identifying in Letter 64 as the mediate infinite mode of extension is the facies—the form here, I would think—of the whole universe, which is not the same as the whole universe itself. The universe has a great deal of change going on within it, but it remains the same individual over time because its form—the way in which its parts communicate their motion to one another—remains constant. (Cf. the definition of a complex individual at II/99/27–100/5.)

This has the philosophical advantage that it frees us from having to explain how the mediate infinite mode of extension could follow from the absolute nature of the divine attributes (as it does, according to E I PP 21–23), when the individual things which (on the usual view) make up the immediate infinite mode of extension, the finite modes, do not (E I P28 and Sch.).

FAITH

Fides

Fides is highly ambiguous. In religious contexts it is normally best translated by “faith,” though sometimes I have chosen to translate fides by “faith” in contexts where it seemed to me that “belief” would have been an equally defensible choice (and where other translators have chosen “belief“). E.g., TTP iv, 18–19. In moral or political contexts meanings like “good faith” or “trust” come to the fore.

Spinoza is highly critical of faith as conceived by his contemporaries, claiming that it has come to be equated with nothing but credulity and prejudices. (TTP Pref., 16, 20) Sometimes (e.g., TTP i, 1, 4) fides seems to have the connotation it often has in English: a belief based on testimony or authority, not on experience or rational argument. In these contexts it is apt to be modified by sola or mera. In TTP xiv, 13, Spinoza gives a definition of faith designed to dissolve the controversy over the relative importance of faith and works by effectively defining faith in terms of works (cf. also TTP Pref., 27–28).

But the contexts where fides should (or at least can) be translated by “faith” seem relatively unproblematic. The contexts where fides signifies a moral quality seem to me more difficult and I have helped myself to a variety of alternatives: good faith, trust, assurance, loyalty, allegiance. It seems surprising that a philosopher who holds that promises in the state of nature are not binding (TTP xvi, 17–19; TP ii, 12) should attach the importance he does to the qualities he associates with fides, which he describes as the chief protection of the republic (TTP xvi, 21). See also the Glossary entry PROMISE.

TTP xv, 11, is an important passage, which displays three different meanings of fides and its cognate verb fidere at work in the same paragraph.

FATHER

Pater

FAULT, GUILT

Culpa

FEAR

Metus, timor

So far as I can see, Spinoza makes no distinction between these terms in the works translated in Volume II. Cf. III/5/34–36/1, III/60/32–61/1; III/357/20ff. In Volume I it had seemed that there might be an important distinction. Cf. I, 637.

FEIGN

fingere, affingere

Although I continue to think (as I did in Volume I) that fingere is often a technical term which might well be rendered by “hypothesize,” I have thought it better, in Volume II, to be more flexible in my treatment of this term. An interesting context is III/34/15–17, where it’s clear that Spinoza thinks the rabbis’ “hypothesis” has no credibility.

If Spinoza makes a distinction between fingere and affingere, I have not been able to discern it.

FLATTERY, FLATTER

Adulatio, assentatio

Normally the term is adulatio or some cognate. The flatterer is a stock character in classical Roman comedy. But often the notion of flattery is expressed or implicit in the idea of giving what may be a merely verbal assent to some proposition, for the purpose of pleasing some political or religious authority. Here the idea is often expressed by the verb assentari. The translation may speak of “giving lip service.” But the reader should be aware that the idea of flattery is implied.

FOLLY

Stultitia

FORCE, VIOLENCE

Vis

FORTUNE

Fortuna

Spinoza defines fortuna at TTP iii, 11, as God’s guidance, insofar as it directs human affairs through external and unforeseen causes. Later (iv, 46), he omits the qualification that the external causes should be unforeseen. Though this may bring him closer to Machiavelli’s usage in The Prince, ch. 25, as ALM suggest, I don’t think we should make too much of the omission. The uncertainty of the causes of our good or bad luck seems to be central to Spinoza’s conception of fortune in the Preface of the TTP. Perhaps Spinoza’s most careful and illuminating definition of this term occurs in Ep. 37, IV/188, where he defines it as an event which, though it happens according to definite and fixed laws, has causes unknown to us and foreign to our nature and power. Surprisingly (as it seems to me) he argues there that the intellect is not liable, as the body is, to accidents, and that our clear and distinct perceptions depend on our absolute power, not on fortune.

See Moreau 1990.

FOUNDATION

Fundamentum

Spinoza is clearly a foundationalist in his political philosophy, insofar as he believes in trying to support his conclusions by deducing them from initial assumptions which are in some sense unquestionable. But I think we misunderstand his foundationalism if we suppose that he held the foundations in this area to be self-evident truths, which need only to be understood to compel our assent. Spinoza’s foundations, I suggest, are propositions which it would be foolish to question, because the evidence for them is so good, and probably propositions we would normally accept without requiring argument.

A good example of the foundationalism at work is TTP v, 17–25, where the foundations are general propositions about human nature, whose truth we can see partly by reflecting on our daily experience of ourselves and other human beings, and partly by the study of history. We might summarize his foundations as follows:

People aren’t able, by their unaided efforts, to satisfy all their needs and desires. Even if they were, the limitations on their time and energy would make their lives wretched if they couldn’t call on the cooperation of others to protect them from enemies and produce the necessities of life. This is especially clear when we take into account, not just their basic needs for such things as food, shelter, and clothing, but also the things they need to develop their minds. However, though it’s supremely in their interest to cooperate, they don’t always see this. And even when they do, they don’t always choose to do what they know is best for themselves. Often their passions get in the way of cooperation. So they’ll do best at satisfying their interests if they live in a society whose laws compel people to do what they would do if they clearly saw what is in their interest and had the self-control needed to pursue that interest wholeheartedly. Nevertheless, though it’s very much in everyone’s interest to live in a society ordered by laws, people are very resistant to being told what to do. When they act solely from fear, they act very unwillingly. If a ruler tries to govern by compulsion and fear alone, he won’t last long. Stable rule requires that the people see the advantage of what the laws require them to do.

These features of human nature define the political problem for Spinoza: what sorts of institutions are required if the government is to be one under which people will live willingly?

FRAUD

Fraus, dolus

I believe Spinoza uses fraus and dolus interchangeably. A good passage to illustrate this is TTP xvi, 17–18. I have freely used “fraud,” “deception,” and “intent to deceive” for both terms, depending on what seemed best in the context.

FREEDOM

Libertas

Like Rousseau Spinoza identifies political freedom with obedience to a law the citizen has participated in making. Cf. TTP v, 23–25. TTP xvi, 32 (usefully amplified in TP ii, TP ii, 11) is a paradigmatic statement of Spinoza’s conception of personal freedom: the only free person is the one who lives according to the guidance of reason. James 2009 is quite helpful here.

GENERATION

See AGE

GIFT

Donum

GLORY, SELF-ESTEEM, LOVE OF ESTEEM

Gloria

Although “glory” seems perfectly satisfactory in the frequently occurring phrase gloria Dei, it seems not to work well when Spinoza uses gloria to refer to a psychological state of a human being, as I believe he does in TTP iii, 1.

GOD, YAHWEH, THE LORD

Deus, Jehova, Dominus

Most English Bibles have used “The LORD” to represent occurrences of the Tetragrammaton, יהוה, the name God uses to identify himself to Moses in Exodus 3:14. These letters would be transliterated YHWH, and apparently pronounced Yahweh, if it were permissible to utter the divine name. But at some point YHWH came to be thought too sacred to pronounce. When the Masoretes added vowels pointing to the text, they used the vowels of Adonai (“My Lord”) for YHWH. Adonai was the term substituted for YHWH when the Bible was read in the synagogue. The Masoretic pointing of YHWH led to a common use of Jehova (in Latin) and “Jehovah” (in English), a transliteration based on a misunderstanding of how YHWH would have been pronounced, if it were pronounced. But it seems “‘Jehovah’ does not accurately represent any form of the Name ever used in Hebrew” (NOAB, p. xii). For the history and meaning of YHWH, see Tryggve Mettinger, In Search of God: The Meaning and Message of the Everlasting Names (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1988), ch. 2.

Generally Spinoza uses Deus to translate YHWH. When he does, I use “God.” Sometimes he uses Jehova. When he does, I normally use “Yahweh,” which is now replacing “Jehovah.” Occasionally he uses Dominus. When he does, I use “the LORD.”

Spinoza’s policy seems to be to use Deus generally for YHWH and Jehova or Dominus only when Deus is used in the same context, either for some other divine name, such as Elohim, or as a general term rather than a proper name. This would explain the uses of Jehova in TTP i, 32, and the reversion to Deus in the remainder of that passage; it also explains the uses of Jehova, Dominus, and Deus in TTP i, 15, ii, 36, 37, 39, v, 10, vi, 31, xii, 18, and xiii, 10–19. The latter passage, where Spinoza is commenting on Exodus 6:3, contains his most extensive discussion of the divine name, though ii, 36, is also important.

In Letter 2 (Volume I, p. 165) Spinoza had derived his preferred definition of God, as a being consisting of infinite attributes, from the Cartesian definition of God as a supremely perfect being. That maneuver reappears here, in Letter 60, where it receives more of an explanation than it had in Letter 2. In the TTP xiv, 25, Spinoza reverts to the more popular definition.

GOOD

Bonus

HABIT

habitus

Sometimes habitus refers to a person’s dress (e.g., at III/8). But more commonly it refers to a habitual practice. Though the phrase virtutis habitus (here translated “habit of virtue“) does not occur often, the contexts in which it occurs seem to be quite important.

HANDMAID

Ancilla

That reason (or philosophy or natural knowledge) ought to be the handmaid of theology (or sacred doctrine, or revelation) was a common medieval doctrine, implying that philosophy is inferior and subservient to theology. Cf. Aquinas ST I, i, 5, ad 2. ALM trace it back to Peter Damian and Albertus Magnus. In TTP xv, 5, Spinoza attributes this doctrine to Alfakhar.

HAPPINESS, PROSPERITY

Felicitas

“Happiness” is my most frequent translation of felicitas, but “prosperity” frequently seems most apt, and “good fortune” is not rare.

HARM, LOSS, EXPENSE

Damnum

HARMFUL (RUINOUSLY?)

Perniciosus

It’s hard to be sure how strong a translation this term calls for. Sometimes it’s tempting to render it as “fatal” (e.g., in TTP xix, 23). This would not be inconsistent with traditional Latin usage. In some contexts something like that seems called for. So we have “ruinously bad” in TTP xii, 4. But generally I think “harmful” is enough.

HARMONY

Concordia

HAVE, HOLD, OBTAIN, ACHIEVE, ETC.

Obtinere

HEART

Animus, cor

Animus can be translated “mind,” and sometimes it is. But in some contexts that would create problems (e.g., where it occurs in a list with mens, and seems to be distinguished from mens, as in TTP i, 35 and 37). Frequently “heart” seems to be best, because it seems to me that Spinoza uses the Latin term to refer to the mind conceived in the broadest sense, thought of not only as an intellect, but also as having feelings, volitions, and moral dispositions (these aspects being emphasized). Contexts illustrating that usage well are TTP Pref., 33; i, 33, 35; iii, 37 and 41; vi, 42; vii, 5; xx, 44. See also TTP Pref., 5, where superstitione animi, literally “superstition of the heart,” is rendered “genuine superstition.“

To translate cor by “heart” seems to require less defense.

HISTORY

Historia

Historia is ambiguous between its English cognate, “history,” where the implication is that the storyteller is understood to be relating (to the best of his ability) what actually happened, and “story,” where the storyteller has no such intent.

Sometimes it’s difficult to tell which sense Spinoza intends. Sometimes it’s quite clear. In TTP ii, 26, Spinoza himself clearly doesn’t believe the story is historically accurate, and I think he suggests some doubt about the intentions of the biblical author. Similarly in TTP iv, 38–39 and x, 16. In such cases I use “story” to translate historia.

Where I think there is an intention to relate what actually happened, I use “history.” Examples occur at ii, 8, 26, and 55. Where I want to leave the question of the storyteller’s intentions open, I prefer to use the terms “account” or “narrative.” An important example occurs at TP ii, 6, in connection with the fall. I use the phrase “historical narrative” (e.g., in TTP iv, 18–19, or v, 40) to suggest that the story is one which has the appearance of being a history, though belief in its truth is not required. In Letter 77 (IV/325) I have used “narrative” to translate historia on the theory that, although Oldenburg clearly believes in the truth of the gospel accounts, he is trying to persuade Spinoza of their truth, and using “history” to translate historia would make him appear to beg the question.

The term historiographus occurs only once, in TTP x, 24, where it seems to mean an official annalist. Cf. Droetto/Giancotti, p. 304n33. In one important context (TTP iv, 39) narratio clearly indicates an intent to tell a story of what actually happened. There (following Wernham) I have used “record of fact.”

HISTORY OF NATURE

Historia naturae

A technical term taken from Baconian philosophy of science, which prescribes that we begin the investigation of a phenomenon like heat by drawing up tables which record the kinds of situations in which the phenomenon is present, or absent, or varies in degree. Bacon’s Novum organum, II, x–xviii, provides a paradigm. That Spinoza takes the interpretation of nature to require this kind of data collection before we arrive at a “definition” of the phenomenon is one more indication that he does not think of the proper method in science as proceeding in an wholly a priori fashion.

In her notes on TTP vii, 6, Totaro helpfully calls attention to Spinoza’s use of the term historia in his Preface to Part III of Descartes’ “Principles of Philosophy” (I/226/13) and to his use of the related term historiola in Letter 37 (IV/189a), where Spinoza’s acknowledges the Baconian ancestry of the term, and contrasts compiling a historiola of the mind with understanding the nature of the mind through its first cause.

HISTORY OF SCRIPTURE

Historia Scripturae

Perhaps the most important idea Spinoza introduced into the science of biblical interpretation is that interpreting biblical texts accurately requires a “history of Scripture,” whose requirements are outlined in TTP vii, 15–25. But though Spinoza insists that the method for interpreting Scripture does not differ at all from the method for interpreting nature, in fact the history of Scripture required for understanding Scripture has a strictly historical dimension which is lacking in the history of nature required for understanding nature (as pointed out by ALM, 734–35n 8).

HOLD, GRIP, BIND

Tenere

“To be bound” usually translates the passive of tenere.

HOLINESS

Sanctitas

HONOR

Honor

It’s important to keep in mind the ambiguity of this term, which Spinoza, in keeping with classical usage, sometimes uses to refer to a public office. It’s unclear what the sense is in TTP iii, 54.

HONORABLE

Honestus

Honestus and its cognates occur in crucial passages and seem to me to express an important concept in Spinoza’s moral philosophy. Keeping in mind his discussion of honor in the opening sections of the TdIE, I take them to signify, not so much that the honestus is in fact guided by a sense of honor as that he is deserving of honor. That seems to be the sense, for example, in TTP iii, 12; v, 38; xiv, 4, 19, and 22; xvii, 63; and xx, 29–44, where this language occurs quite frequently.

In contexts like TTP ix, 45 and 56, the relevant notion of the honorable is more conventional, I think: what an ordinary reader in a given community at a certain time would consider decent.

HOPE

Spes

HYPOTHESIS

Hypothesis

Spinoza’s use of the Latin hypothesis seems largely consistent with the normal English usage of that word: a supposition made to account for facts taken as known. Cf. IV/166, 174, 176; III/131 (in ADN. XIV). But it’s interesting that he will sometimes use it in connection with assumptions he presumably regards as quite certain. Cf. IV/180.

IMAGINATION

Imaginatio

It’s important to remember that imaginatio, in Spinoza’s usage, includes all cases of seeming to perceive something through the senses, even those where the object we seem to perceive is actually there. It also, of course, includes things like dreams and hallucinations. But when Spinoza says that an object of the imagination is imaginary, I take that to mean that what we seem to perceive is not actually there. A good context to illustrate this is TTP i, 9. So the classification of prophetic visions as functions of the imagination does not imply that the prophet was, as we might say, imagining something. But when Spinoza says in i, 11, that Samuel heard an imaginary voice, the implication is that what he heard existed in his imagination, but not in reality.

Note also that TTP ii, 4, allows that in principle the imagination can yield certainty provided it is supplemented by reasoning.

INDIFFERENCE

Indifferentia

When God is said to be indifferent (e.g., in TTP ii, 15, 35), the idea seems to be that he has no belief about what future human actions will be. When actions are said to be indifferent (e.g., at TTP iv, 20), it is that they are neither good nor bad in themselves, but only become good or bad as a result of some decree.

INFERENCE, PRINCIPLE OF INFERENCE, IMPLICATION

Consequentia

INSANE

Insanus

Spinoza regards some of the people he disagrees with as crazy. He has two words for this, which he uses more or less equivalently: insania and delirium. Cf. the index entries for these terms, and particularly TTP Pref., 19; ix, 28.

INSTITUTION

Institutum

Things which are good only by institution—paradigmatically, ceremonies—are not good of themselves, and make no contribution, in themselves, to blessedness. Cf. TTP v, 5, 32–34. Institutum is also translated “established practice” in the phrase jus et institutum naturae, which occurs infrequently, but in important passages. See jus.

INTELLECT

Intellectus

“Intellect” is my preferred term for intellectus, though it has the disadvantage that there is no verb paired with it in English, as intelligere is paired with it in Latin. But the literature generally translates intellectus by its English cognate. I depart from this practice when Spinoza is talking about the wisdom literature, where “understanding” is well-entrenched for the relevant cognitive state.

INTENTION

Mens, animus

Though “intention” is not the default translation for either of the Latin terms, it nevertheless occurs quite frequently.

INVESTIGATE

Investigare

As Spinoza uses it, the Latin term often seems to suggest, not merely seeking the object of the inquiry, but finding it. Hence, the variety of English terms I have chosen to use.

JEALOUS

Zelotypus

JEW

Judaeus

Generally Spinoza uses Judaeus simply to refer to Jews, and then it gets the obvious translation. Occasionally he uses it to refer to the inhabitants of the southern kingdom, Judah, and then I’ve used “man of Judah.” Cf. TTP xviii, 16.

JOY

Laetitia

The OED’s primary definition of “joy” is “a vivid emotion of pleasure arising from a sense of well-being or satisfaction; the feeling or state of being highly pleased or delighted; exultation of spirit; gladness, delight.” This seems to me exactly right for Spinoza’s laetitia, in spite of Bennett’s dissent (Bennett 1984, 253). Of course this must be understood, like all of Spinoza’s affects, as a phenomenon which is both mental and physical.

JUDGMENT

Judicium

Generally Spinoza uses judicium in the sense of “judgment,” which might be the result of a formal legal proceeding (TTP iv, 8) or a matter of someone’s coming to a certain belief (TTP v, 44; vi, 72) or the faculty by which a person comes to a belief. Notable examples of the latter use occur in TTP Pref., 10, where Spinoza complains that the supporters of monarchy seek to fill men’s free judgment with prejudices, or TTP Pref., 16, where it seems to be the ministers of the church who try to turn men from rational beings into beasts, or TTP Pref., 28, where Spinoza sets the defense of freedom of judgment as one of the goals of his work, or TP vii, 27, where Spinoza remarks that it is a rare virtue to suspend judgment.

Occasionally judicium means a court where legal judgments are made, but this seems to be pretty rare (TP viii, 25).

JURIST

Jurisperitus (sometimes two words)

Wernham and Shirley both have “lawyer,” but to me this suggests someone who practices law as a profession, and I don’t think Spinoza intends that. I think all this means is someone learned in the law, not necessarily a practitioner. For the connotations of the peritus component, see peritia.

JUSTICE

Justitia

Most of the time terms in this family unproblematically permit translation by their English-language cognates. One atypical case where I have chosen to translate justus by “righteous” occurs in TTP xix, 8, where it seemed to me likely that Spinoza was alluding to a passage in Ecclesiastes (9:2) where the term tsadikim occurs and is commonly translated “the righteous.” (Also favoring this translation in that context was the fact that Spinoza there opposes justus not to injustus, but to impius.)

KING

Rex

KNOWLEDGE, 'KNOWLEDGE, SCIENCE

Cognitio, scientia, notitia

Some Spinoza scholars (e.g., Bennett 1985, Donagan 1988) have wanted to translate cognitio by its English cognate, “cognition.” The main motivation for this seems to be that Spinoza’s cognitio is broader than the English “knowledge,” because Spinoza classifies imaginatio, which is highly fallible, as a form of cognitio. So cognitio, unlike the English “knowledge,” does not entail that the proposition “cognized” is true. At most it entails that there is some proposition the cognizer accepts, which may or may not be true, and if true, may or may not be known to be true.¹

But since “cognition” is not nearly as familiar a term in English as “knowledge” is, its use would need to be explained. And if you have to explain “cognition,” why not just use “knowledge,” accompanied by a warning that Spinoza’s Latin term has a wider range than the English term normally has? This avoids the problem that there is no commonly used verb related to “cognition” as cognoscere is related to cognitio in Latin. (“Cognize” is largely philosopher’s jargon, which would also need explanation, and which I’m willing to use in this note, but would not willingly put in Spinoza’s mouth.) So in Volume II, I continue to translate cognitio by “knowledge,” and cognoscere by “know.”

A more difficult and important issue, I think, concerns the relation between cognitio and scientia. Though Spinoza frequently uses these terms in a way which makes some distinction between them, he can also pass easily from one term to the other without any apparent sense that he is changing the subject. This happens, for example, in TTP i, where he passes from arguing that it’s proper to call natural cognitio divine (i, 3) to saying that although natural scientia is divine, we shouldn’t call those who pass it on prophets (i, 4). A similar thing happens in TTP ii, 2, where he goes from talking about those who search for cognitio of both natural and spiritual matters to talking about those who cultivate true scientia (two different groups of people, or one group?), and in TTP iv, 41, where he goes from saying that people disdain natural cognitio because it’s common to all, and that the Hebrews were particularly liable to disdain natural scientia for that reason. So in my view, sometimes Spinoza uses these terms as if they were equivalent.

But sometimes he clearly doesn’t. And it’s a difficult question to decide what scientia means when it’s not treated simply as equivalent to cognitio. Frequently Spinoza uses scientia in a way which it seems natural to render by “science,” understanding the English term pretty much the way we ordinarily understand it, as including physical sciences like optics, physics, and astronomy, but also abstract sciences, like mathematics, and practical sciences, like politics. In these cases speaking of something as a science implies something about the truth and grounds for the cognition in question which cognitio does not imply, though it’s difficult to say exactly what it implies. The closest thing we have in Volume II to an explanation of the special meaning Spinoza attaches to scientia comes in TTP i, 48, where he appears to equate having true scientia of the prophets’ imaginative capacities with being able to explain these phenomena through their first causes. That may not be quite “science” in the ordinary modern sense of the term—it seems to entail a depth of understanding scientists cannot always claim for their results—but it’s arguably closely related.

When I have thought it possible, I have rendered scientia by the English “science.” Examples occur at TTP x, 48, xi, 20, xiii, 4, 7, 29; xv, 38; xix, 62; xx, 26. I note that “science” crops up in the TP (occasionally) because Spinoza thinks that politics, properly engaged in, is a science on a par with the physical sciences. What’s particularly striking here is that he thinks of politics as potentially a demonstrative science, even though it depends on experience and knowledge of history (TP i, 1, 4).

In contexts where “science” did not feel right for scientia, I have prefixed a prime symbol to “knowledge,” thus: 'knowledge. This includes passages where, so far as I could see, Spinoza was treating scientia as equivalent to cognitio (e.g., in the early passages from the TTP mentioned above), but I wished to alert the reader to the presence of a term which might not mean the same as cognitio. But it also includes passages where, in quoting the Bible, Spinoza uses scientia to translate Hebrew terms (e.g., chakmah, wisdom; tvunah, intelligence; da’at, knowledge) not easily equated with “science” in the sense in which we normally understand that term. Cf. TTP iv, 42–45.

The continuation of this passage, iv, 46, is important, suggesting that Spinoza regards the cognitio of things as an essential preliminary to scientia naturalis, but also the importance he attaches to scientia, which leads us to discover the scientia of God (v, 12), and to achieve the perfection of our nature, which he identifies with blessedness (v, 19). But note that when Spinoza describes the “knowledge of God” as our highest good (e.g., in TTP iv, 9), the Latin is cognitio Dei.

KNOWN THROUGH ITSELF, KNOWN WITHOUT ARGUMENT

notum per se

I continue to believe what I said in Volume I: the common practice of translating notum per se by “self-evident” is ill-considered. The influence of Locke on the ordinary English usage of “self-evident” inevitably makes the reader think the proposition is one which deserves and gets “universal and ready assent” as soon as we understand the meaning of the terms. Neither Spinoza nor Descartes before him was under any such illusions about the propositions they designated as per se nota. A per se nota proposition may well require argument for readers whose intellects are clouded by prejudice or who have not reflected carefully enough on what everyone knows by experience.

In addition to the examples given in the Glossary for Volume I, consider Spinoza’s declaration in TP vii, 23, that the propositions he had advanced in TP vi, 32, about the proper treatment of resident aliens, are per se nota. These hardly have the same status as the axioms of Euclidean geometry. But if you think about them—bringing to bear what your experience has taught you about human nature—you should see that they are true. They are properly taken as first principles, even if they may require argument for some unreflective people. Sometimes, to avoid the awkwardness of the literal translation, and to convey more clearly what I think the Latin means, I render this phrase “can be known without argument.”

For more, see FOUNDATION.

LANGUAGE

Lingua

LAUGHTER

Risus

LAW, RIGHT

lex, jus

Lex is easy for the translator, not so easy for the commentator. I translate lex uniformly as “law.” There’s no serious alternative. But as a commentator I observe that Spinoza begins TTP iv by defining “law” in general as a kind of regularity in nature, which may hold for each individual, or for all or some members of some kind. He recognizes two main species of law, distinguished by the cause of the regularity.

The first are scientific laws, which depend “on a necessity of nature.” In them the regularity follows from the nature or definition of the kind of thing covered by the law. Spinoza conceives this regularity to be necessary.² The second kind results from human decisions, the prescriptions of political agents or institutions. In the happiest cases these decisions would presumably reflect a collective judgment that it would be advantageous for everyone in the community if there were general adherence to a certain rule of conduct. But Spinoza notes, ominously, that such laws may have other causes.

The main points in the preceding paragraph are made clearly enough in TTP iv, 1–4. Problems for the commentator arise, first, because Spinoza goes on to say (in iv, 5) that lex is commonly understood to be nothing but a command which men can either obey or disregard, that it seems to be used figuratively when it refers to scientific laws,³ and that it seems lex ought to be defined more particularly as a principle of living which man prescribes to himself or others for some end. If Spinoza were to adhere to this narrower definition, that would evidently limit the proper application of lex to laws of the second kind. But he doesn’t do that. He continues to apply the term lex to propositions which he must regard as laws of the first kind (most notably in TTP vi and xvi, 4). This encourages confusion about just what his preferred definition of law was.

ADN. XXXIV (at TTP xvi, 53) suggests that in a sense the first kind of law is more fundamental.⁴ If we properly understood the divine law, we would understand it as a matter of natural necessity, not as a command which might or might not be obeyed (iv, 25–36). Nevertheless, the common understanding of divine law is that it is a command issuing from a God who is conceived as a prince, whose commands we might or might not obey. And that’s the conception of divine law Spinoza seeks to refute in TTP iv, 23–37. So in TTP iv the focus is on the conception of law as divine command, even though that’s not the most satisfactory way to conceive of divine law.

My use of the term “legislation” in the translation of TTP v, 14, is my solution to the following problem: how do we express in English the claim Spinoza makes in TTP iv, 1, that jus is a more correct term for his second kind of law than lex is? We can’t use “law” without making the passage sound like nonsense. Different translators have found different solutions: Elwes and Wernham have “ordinance“; Shirley has “statute“; Silverthorne and Israel use “decree“; Yaffe has “right.” I’ve opted for “legislation,” a term I also use in TTP Pref., 22, where Spinoza writes that the lex Mosis (law of Moses) is nothing but the jura of the individual state of the Hebrews. The point there seems to be to deny that the Mosaic legislation was binding on anyone outside the geographic and temporal bounds of that state. Similarly in TTP i, 17; v, 16, 26.

For discussion of jus and related language (e.g., jus et institutum naturae), see below, under RIGHT.

LAYMAN

Idiota

Spinoza uses this term only once. “Ordinary person” would have been a plausible alternative. But when Steno replies, he seems to attach pejorative connotations to the term.

LEADER, TO LEAD

Dux, ducere

A dux is a leader in war. I favor “leader” or “commander” when it seems to me that “general” would imply too specific a rank, but sometimes “general” seems appropriate, and very occasionally, “duke.“

The related verb ducere occurs very frequently, and has quite a broad range of meanings. Ductus occurs quite frequently in phrases indicating that someone has been guided by reason, or by an affect. The indexing seeks to record all occurrences of dux and ductus, but only a representative selection of those of ducere, ignoring various idioms in which ducere occurs.

LEARNED; LEARNING

Doctus; eruditio

LEISURE

Otium

LEVITE, TRIBE OF LEVI

Tribus Levi, Levita

Spinoza’s way of describing the role of the Levites glosses over controversies which were evidently important in biblical times, and are still unresolved. The passage bridging Exodus 27–28 designates Aaron and his sons (Levites by Exod. 6:16–25) as priests in perpetuity, with responsibilities which would have included consulting the Urim and Thummim to discern the will of God, offering sacrifices, and instructing the people in the law. (Cf. Exod. 28:30; Deut. 10:8–9, 18:1–8, 21:5, 31:9–13, 33:8–11.)

But who was a priest? Exodus 27–28 suggests: only Aaron and his descendants. Levites not descended from Aaron were hereditary temple officials, assigned to assist Aaron and his descendants—for example, by carrying the ark of the covenant, and preventing outsiders from coming near it—but not priests. We find this view also in Numbers 3:5–10, 25–26, 16:1–11, 18:1–7.

On a different view, any Levite was ipso facto a priest. (Cf. Deut. 18:1–8, 31:9–13, 33:8–11.) It appears that the conflicts in the texts arise at least partly from the fact that different sources had different views. The source biblical scholars designate as P (for “priestly“) restricts the priesthood to Aaron and his descendants. D (for “Deuteronomist“) makes all Levites priests. It’s possible also that the rights and responsibilities of the Levites were different at different periods. The above account is based partly on Kugel (313–14, 330–31) and partly on “Levites and Priests,” in the ABD, IV:297–310.

In any event, Spinoza’s hostility toward the Levites in TTP xvii seems to be a proxy for his feelings toward the Calvinist clergy in the Dutch Republic.

LICENCE

Licentia

Licentia almost always has negative connotations: an immoderate, disorderly liberty. This is not true of the related verb licet and adjective licitus, which signify simply that something is permitted or possible.

LIFE

Vita

LIGHT OF NATURE, NATURAL LIGHT

Lumen naturale

LORD

Dominus

Dominus can mean “lord,” in the sense of a human who is in a position to issue commands. It’s also, in the correspondence, a common term of polite address, equivalent to our “mister,” and a term used to refer to God (doing duty for YHWH) or Jesus. Occurrences of dominus which are equivalent to “mister” are not indexed.

LOVE, LOVING-KINDNESS

Amor, c(h)aritas

If sive indicates an equivalence, then Spinoza equates charitas with amor erga proximum at TTP xiv, 27. But perhaps this example is more evidence that sive does not always indicate an equivalence, and should be read in this context as making more precise the meaning of charitas in this context. (Charitas is said to be an attribute of God in TTP xiii, 20. Maybe it makes sense to attribute amor erga homines to God, but surely not amor erga proximum.) In any case, such contexts will be difficult to translate unless we make at least a verbal distinction between amor and charitas.

Spinoza uses charitas to translate חסד (chesed) at TTP xiii, 20, which is what suggested the possibility of using “loving-kindness” for charitas. “Loving-kindness” was introduced into English by biblical translators seeking to convey the connotations of חסד, understood as a kindness arising from the steadfast love God is represented as displaying towards his people in the Hebrew Bible. Other translators (e.g., Shirley, Silverthorne/Israel) have often used “charity” for charitas, which is natural, but seems to me unfortunate, since it may suggest giving alms to the poor. Charitas does, of course, include aiding the poor, but it also includes defending justice, not killing people, not coveting their goods, and so forth. TTP xii, 37, is a crucial summary. TTP v, 4, illustrates nicely the influence on Spinoza of prophets like Isaiah, who put more emphasis on right conduct toward others than on the ceremonial requirements of the law. Similar is TTP xiii, 20–21, citing Jeremiah.

MAGISTRATE

magistratus

I use “magistrate” in its general sense (“any civil officer charged with the administration of the law . . . who may be the sovereign or any subordinate officer with executive power within the state” OED 1a), not in the narrower sense (“a civil officer exercising local judicial power” OED 1b), which has become more common.

MAJESTY

Majestas

Majestas generally refers to the person (or collective body) which has sovereignty, sometimes, but by no means necessarily a king. (Cf. III/228/7–10, where the estates of Holland are said to have always possessed the right of supreme majestas.) It is often used in conjunction with summa, in a way which seems roughly equivalent to summa potestas (e.g., at III/207/9, 239/13–14). But it seems to have connotations which summa potestas lacks. In classical Latin majestas suggested a certain dignity or grandeur, and those concepts are also associated with its English cognate. Spinoza observes that the defenders of majestas seek to persuade people, by devious means, that majestas is sacred and God’s representative on earth (TTP xvii, 24). Its defenders also claim (perhaps with greater justice) that the majestas of the state is the guardian of its salus (a term which is also ambiguous, but which in this context I translate by “safety“). At one stage I frequently used “authority” for majestas. But on reflection it seemed to me best to stick to “majesty” as consistently as possible, in order to preserve these connotations. (This is not possible, of course, in the common idiom majestatem laedere, to commit treason.)

MAN

Homo

“Man” in this translation needs to be understood to refer to human beings of either sex.

MARKINGS

Apex

The meaning of this infrequently used term is unclear but Spinoza seems to use it to cover both the vowel points (puncta) and the accent marks (accentus) which the Masoretes added to biblical Hebrew to indicate its proper pronunciation.

MEANING

Sensus, sententia

Generally “meaning” translates sensus. Only occasionally does it seem required for sententia.

MENTALITY

Ingenium

Ingenium is a difficult term, because it has a wide range of theoretically possible meanings, and occurs frequently, with apparently different meanings in different contexts. Classically it can mean any of the following: natural disposition, temperament, mood, inherent quality or character, natural inclination or desire, mental powers, natural abilities, talent, intellect, mind, inspiration, cleverness, skill, and ingenuity. This list may not be exhaustive, but it should include all the live possibilities in Spinoza.

In fact, I think the range of possible meanings in Spinoza is narrower than that. Sometimes ingenium occurs in a sense in which it seems to mean native ability or talent. This occurs, for example, in the correspondence between Oldenburg and Spinoza, discussing what Kircher’s work shows about his ingenium. Oldenburg contrasts Kircher’s ingenium with Spinoza’s. (See Letters 30 and 31.) Another example, I think, occurs in TP viii, 49. In these contexts I sometimes use “native ability,” or “intelligence,” and sometimes “talent”—the latter when I think the person’s ability is implicitly being praised as being out of the ordinary. (Cf. TTP iii, 14.)

Sometimes ingenium seems to refer not so much to a natural ability, as to acquired knowledge or skill. Examples may be found at TTP i, 33, and ii, 31, where I have used “understanding.”

The most interesting contexts are those in which ingenium seems to me to be best translated by “mentality,” where I understand that term to mean mental character or disposition, or the characteristic attitude of mind or way of thinking of a person, or social group (following OED 3). It’s important to understand that these ways of thinking include, not only opinions, but also passions and dispositions. (This seems to me clear in TTP Pref., §28.) The problem with the preachers whose authority Spinoza wishes to diminish (Letter 30) is that they want others to live according to their ingenium, i.e., not only to think as they do, but also to love what they love and hate what they hate. (Cf. E III P31C.) Spinoza, by contrast, would like everyone to be able to live ex suo ingenio—according to his own mentality (IV/166/18–19). Examples of this usage may be found, not only in Letter 30, but in TTP Pref., 12, 28, 29, and 30; ii, 17, 49; iii, 41.

TTP v, 27–28, illustrates nicely the complexity of ingenium. The problem Moses faced in ruling the Hebrew people after the exodus was twofold: the people were lacking intellectually, unable to see what was to their advantage; but they also had a stubborn streak which made it impossible to govern them by fear alone. Similarly, in TTP v, 7, Spinoza writes that experience has taught us to vary the penalty for lawbreaking according to the ingenium of the people for whom the laws are made. I think what underlies that recommendation is the idea that what penalties are appropriate will vary both with the cognitive abilities of the people and with their affective dispositions.

Moreau’s discussion of the meaning of ingenium (Moreau 1994, part II, ch. 3) is very helpful. Although I predominantly use an English term which focuses on the mental aspect of ingenium, I agree with Moreau that the diversity of ingenia is rooted in the diversity of the dispositions of people’s bodies, which are partially determined by their different biographies and environments.

MERCENARY SOLDIER

Miles auxiliaris

Machiavelli had made a distinction (Prince xii–xiii) between mercenaries and auxiliaries, the former being soldiers whom the state has hired, the latter being troops sent by another ruler for assistance, who owe their allegiance to the other ruler. Both mercenaries and auxiliaries are non-citizen soldiers, and both, Machiavelli thinks, are useless. Spinoza seems to ignore this distinction, using the term miles auxiliaris (in TP vii, 12 and 17) to refer to any non-citizen soldier, whether he is in the pay of the state for which he is supposedly working, or of another ruler.

MIND

Mens, animus

My default translation for mens is “mind.” But quite often, particularly in contexts where the interpretation of a text and the intention of its author are at issue, though “mind” would be possible, “intention” or “meaning” seems more appropriate. TTP vii, 54, provides a good example of that usage. Sometimes I use “mind” for animus, which is discussed under “heart,” the more frequent translation.

MINISTER, PRIEST

Sacerdos

MIRACLE

Miraculum

Spinoza offers different definitions of miracles at different points in his argument. (For discussion, see Curley 1985.) His official definition permits him to grant that miracles occur, but raises questions about their religious significance: “a miracle is just a work whose natural cause we can’t explain by the example of another familiar thing, or at least, which can’t be so explained by the person who relates the miracle” (vi, 13). This reductive definition is at the heart of Oldenburg’s complaint that Spinoza equates miracles with ignorance (Letter 74). If miracles are just events whose natural causes we can’t explain, or which can’t be explained by the person who recounts the story of the miracle, then whether an event is a miracle will depend on how much knowledge of nature the narrator of the miracle has. Miracles so understood don’t support any particular religion, because they occur in many religions.

Oldenburg might have been happier with another definition Spinoza suggests: that a miracle is an event contrary to the universal laws of nature (vi, 9). But Spinoza thinks it’s demonstrable that in that sense of the term, there are no miracles (vi, 7–12). The laws of nature are necessary truths. So nothing contrary to them can happen.

The concept of a miracle is closely connected with that of wonder. In classical Latin that connection dominates, and the idea of a violation of a law of nature is missing, though the idea of the event being beyond the capacity of nature is not. See Forcellini, Lexicon.

MULTITUDE, MULTIPLICITY

Multitudo

In this volume I’ve undertaken to translate multitudo consistently by “multitude” in political contexts, and by “multiplicity” in mathematical or metaphysical contexts. Balibar 1985b/1989 illustrates the importance of translating multitudo as consistently as possible; IV/179 illustrates what I call the mathematical or metaphysical use of the term.

Even in political contexts, though, I think the term can have quite different meanings, which are not always easy to distinguish. Sometimes multitudo refers to a (large) subset of a society’s population, but not the population as a whole. This group would not include the king or other members of the political elite,⁵ and is often viewed negatively by the person using this language, who may be a member of the elite, apt to think of the multitude as having limitations of intellect and character which make them subject to political manipulation. (Cf. OLD 5b.) Multitudo does not occur often in the TTP—only at III/6, 7, 10, 203, 225—but when it does, it seems always to have these negative connotations.

In the TP the situation is more complex. There a second usage becomes prominent, where multitudo refers, I think, not to a particular subset of the population, but simply to a large number of people, who may not yet be members of a political community, or who, if they do belong to a political community, may be all the members of that community. They may not be viewed any more negatively than people in general are viewed. (Cf. OLD 3, 4.) I take it that Spinoza’s view in this work is that any large population, or large subset of a population, must share the limitations of people in general, specifically, their tendency to be guided more by affects than by reason. This seems to me quite a common usage in the TP, e.g., in i, 3, 5; v, 6–7; viii, 12.

The broad sense of multitudo is not Spinoza’s universal usage, even in the TP, though it is not always easy to distinguish between the two senses. The occurrences in vi, 8, vii, 2, vii, 11, and viii, 13 seem to me clear examples of the narrower sense, as is the final occurrence of “multitude” in v, 7. When I think the broad usage is in play, I normally use the indefinite rather than the definite article. A particularly clear example occurs at vii, 5, where the multitude in question is characterized as “a whole multitude.” On the other hand, in TP ii, 17, where I think both uses occur, Spinoza modifies the second occurrence by the adjective communis, which I take to mean that he’s thinking of the multitudo referred to there as a large subset of the population.

In TP ii, 21, I think multitudo has the broad sense. A large group of people, not yet organized into a state, is thought of as being candidates for formation into a political community. Note how differently this passage reads if a definite article is substituted for the indefinite article I have chosen. This passage introduces the important idea that a multitudo might be led una veluti mente, “as if by one mind.” When the latter language first occurred, a few paragraphs earlier (in TP ii, 16), it was clearly a whole population which was in question. Other instances of the broader sense, in my view, occur at iii, 2 and 7; iv, 6; vi, 1; and vii, 25. I do not attempt to adjudicate all uses, but leave this to the reader.

MUTILATED

Truncatus

In the context of biblical criticism this term typically refers to a passage where part of the text has inadvertently been omitted. Cf. TTP ix, 20–21, 32.

NAME

Nomen

NARRATION, NARRATIVE

Narratio

See HISTORY

NATION

Natio, gens

NATURAL LIGHT

Lumen naturale

The natural light (of reason) is opposed to the supernatural light (of revelation). Cf. TTP iv, 48. So what we can know by the natural light is what we can know without relying on the authority of Scripture. This is not (as some seem to think) to be equated with what we can know by purely a priori, deductive means. It includes also what we can know by ordinary empirical means. When Solomon is praised for having surpassed the wise men of his age in the natural light (in TTP iv, 40), he is not being praised for his deductive prowess, but for having learned certain things from experience, without reliance on revelation. See also TTP v, 34–36; vii, 70.

NATURE

Natura

Natura seems to me multiply ambiguous in Spinoza. In addition to being (in some uses) equivalent to essentia, sometimes it refers to Natura naturans (the most fundamental explanatory principles in nature, E I P29S), sometimes to natura naurata (the totality of things explained by those principles, ibid.), and sometimes to both of these at once.

NECESSITAS

Necessity

In my view many discussions of Spinoza’s necessitarianism—i.e., his doctrine that there is nothing contingent in nature (E I P29), or that God could have produced things in no other way, and no other order than he did (E I P33)—attribute to him a stronger view than he actually held, because they fail to give proper weight to his doctrine that things may be necessary either by reason of their essence or by reason of their cause (E I P33S). I would say: on Spinoza’s view, some things are absolutely necessary (true in virtue of the essence of the thing in question), others are only relatively necessary (true in relation to their cause, which will not, in general, be something absolutely necessary).

NEIGHBOR

Proximus

Equated with concivis at TTP xvii, 86.

OBEDIENCE

Obedientia, obsequium, obtemperantia

In a political context (TTP v, 25) Spinoza defines obedientia as carrying out a command solely on the authority of the person issuing the command. In a religious context (TTP xiii, 8) he defines obedientia erga Deum as love of one’s neighbor (appealing to Rom. 13:8). The latter definition seems to be assumed at TTP xiv, 27.

I believe Spinoza regards obsequium and obtemperantia as synonyms for obedientia. This seems to me true in spite of the fact that at TP ii, 19–20, he offers two definitions of obsequium which are prima facie different from one another, and from the definitions of obedientia in the TTP: that it is a constant will to do what is good according to the law, and what, by the common decision, ought to be done; and that it is a constant will to moderate the appetites according to the prescription of reason. He suggests some reservations about the second of these definitions, but in ii, 21, seems to accept it for persons living in (well-ordered) states.

In spite of the variations in these definitions, Spinoza’s general usage of obedientia and obsequium has inclined me to use “obedience” at TP ii, 19–20 and in most passages in the political works. The only exception I’m aware of is a passage in the TP (vii, 17) obsequium seemed to require “indulgence.”

OBJECT; OBJECTIVELY

Ideatum; objective

As in Volume I, ideatum is a technical term referring to the object of thought. In this volume, IV/173–74 is a particularly instructive passage. When Spinoza says that our mind contains the nature of God objective, he means that our mind has God’s nature as its object, and thus contains a representation of God’s nature. The usage is scholastic in origin, but still alive in Descartes’ Third Meditation.

OBSTINACY, STUBBORNNESS

Contumacia

I think the sense is generally: willful disobedience to legitimate authority. Cf. Spinoza’s definition of faith in TTP xiv, 22, where contumacia is treated as a factor showing a person’s faith to be impious.

ODIUM

Hate

ONE’S OWN MASTER

Sui juris

Spinoza defines being sui juris at TP ii, 9: a person is sui juris “insofar as he can fend off every force, avenge an injury done to him according to his own opinion, and absolutely, insofar as he can live according to his own mentality” (III/280/1–5). He is alterius juris, under someone else’s control, if that person has ’power (potestas) over him.

The language goes back to Justinian’s Institutiones I, vi, where slaves, children, and grandchildren are the principal examples of people who are under someone else’s control. (If a woman is the head of a household, she is also sui juris.) But as a concept in Roman law, being alterius juris implies that the control is rightful and will be enforced by the law. In Spinoza’s philosophy, it does not appear that it has similar moral implications. Cf. the explanation of the conditions under which one person has another in his power in TP ii, 10. Note, though, the conclusion drawn in TP ii, 11, that being fully one’s own master requires using reason rightly.

There is no comparable definition of sui juris in the TTP, but the usage there seems consistent with the definition in the TP. An individual who is sui juris is able to act as he pleases (TTP v, 30). His actions depend on no one’s decision but his own (xvii, 4). The notions of acting ex suo jure (TTP xvii, 7) and being the master of something maximo naturae jure (TTP xx, 8) seem to be equivalent.

OPINION

Sententia

Generally “opinion” works well for sententia (as “think” is almost invariably my translation of the related verb sentire). But in that section of TTP vii where Spinoza discusses the interpretation of language which may be ambiguous or obscure (§§16–24), “sentence” seemed required.

OPPONENT

Adversarius

ORDER

Ordo

It is characteristic of Spinoza to say that he does not attribute order to nature, e.g., at IV/170/7–11, provoking Oldenburg to point out that there is a sense in which he does do that (IV/176/26–177/6). Perhaps the order he rejects is one which presupposes teleology, and the order he accepts is one which does not. Cf. E I App., II/81/25ff.

ORDINARY PERSON (pl. PEOPLE)

Plebs

In Roman politics the plebs were members of the general citizenry (as distinct from the patricians), who gained political representation in the fifth century B.C.E. through their tribunes (who were given veto power over the election of senior magistrates), and later through a legislative council. Over time plebeians became eligible for important political offices: the senate, the consulship, the censorship, and the dictatorship.

In the TTP Spinoza generally seems to use plebs simply to refer to ordinary people, without reference to any particular political class, and without strongly negative connotations. The plebs form the greatest part of the human race (III/77). They do not include the learned, and their powers of understanding are limited by comparison with those of the learned. They are most receptive to arguments from experience. In that work plebs seems to be used interchangeably with vulgus, and I normally translate it by language very similar to the language I standardly use for vulgus (“common people”). Occasionally (mostly in TTP xviii) I have thought it necessary to translate plebs by “the mob.“

In the TP, on the other hand, plebs does not occur before vii, 27, where it definitely does refer to the class opposed to the patricians in Roman politics, and where Spinoza defends the plebeians against the kinds of criticism found in Roman historians. He acknowledges that they have their weaknesses, but thinks they are not worse than those of people in general, and seems, in some respects, to view them more favorably than the patricians. In that passage, I use “plebeian” for plebs. Subsequent uses in the TP occur in discussions of various forms of aristocracy, and seem to refer to a class opposed to the aristocrats, and analogous to the plebeians of ancient Rome.

ORGANIZED COMMUNITY

Politia

Politia was used classically to translate the Greek politeia, the name in Greek of the work we know as Plato’s Republic. This makes no sense in either of the two contexts in which this term occurs in Spinoza (TTP v, 20, and ADN. XVI at ix, 17). Glazemaker’s translation of the first passage—staatkunde (i.e., statecraft or statesmanship)—also seems not to fit the contexts. The post-classical dictionaries in the DLD also seem not to offer anything suitable. “Organized community,” on the other hand, seems to fit both contexts.

OUTCOME

Casus, eventus, successus

PARTICULAR, SPECIAL, SINGULAR

Singularis

PATRICIAN

Patricius

When Spinoza introduces this term into his political theory, he does not give it the meaning we might have expected it to have. In principle the whole people might be members of the patrician class, so long as they were chosen for that role and did not acquire it by a kind of innate right or fortune. Cf. TP viii, 1. Also, the patricians are not to be identified with the rich; there will be rich people who are not patricians. (Cf. TP viii, 37.)

PEACE

Pax, tranquillitas

PEACE OF MIND, SATISFACTION

Acquiescentia, tranquillitas animi

PEOPLE

Populus, gens

Populus is used mainly in the TTP, where it generally refers to the people of Israel (sometimes, but not always, clearly distinguished from their leaders). Sometimes it refers to the members of a generic political community.

PERCEIVE, PERCEPTION

Percipere, perceptio

Percipere needs to be understood quite broadly. Sometimes Spinoza will speak of perceiving things through or with the aid of the imagination (TTP i, 43, 45; ii, 14). Sometimes he clearly thinks of perceptio as a function of the intellect (i, 4; iv, 28, 31; vii, 66). Of particular importance is the discussion in TTP vii, 66–69, with its attendant annotation, ADN. VIII. I take it that the perceptible are the things we can grasp easily, the imperceptible are those which it is impossible to grasp.

PHARISEE

Pharisaeus

Gebhardt observes (V, 26–27) that Spinoza uses Pharisaeus in two senses: first, and most commonly, to refer to a religious party in ancient Israel, who were opposed to the Sadduccees; and second, to refer to Jews who adhered to what subsequently became the dominant Jewish tradition, down to his own day. An example of the first usage would occur in TTP xviii, 24; of the second, in TTP iii, 40 (or IV/321). In x, 43–45, Spinoza ascribes the selection of the canon of the Hebrew Bible to the Pharisees, and treats them as the authors of the Talmud. At TTP xv, 4, Spinoza counts Maimonides as a Pharisee, which may not fit easily under either of these categories.

PHILOSOPHER

Philosophus

It’s important to bear in mind that philosophus and related terms have a broader meaning in the seventeenth century than their English cognates do today. So at TTP ii, 26, philosophizing correctly includes having an accurate knowledge of basic astronomy. At TTP vi, 54, philosophers are said to have written histories of nature. And the freedom of philosophizing which Spinoza argues for at the end of TTP xiv, and again in TTP xx, is not limited to the kinds of inquiries which take place in philosophy departments today.

PIETY

Pietas

Generally I render pietas and related terms by their English cognates (a departure from my policy in Volume I, where pietas was generally rendered either by “morality” or “duty”). I don’t think there’s any good solution to the problems pietas presents. Readers need to understand that pietas has a broader connotation than piety. As in classical Latin, so in Spinoza: pietas entails an attitude of dutiful respect toward those to whom a person is bound by ties of religion, consanguinity, or nationality. It can apply both to a person’s attitude toward the gods and to the feeling of the gods toward human beings. If we think of God as bound to humans (or to his elect) by various covenants, it will not be strange to speak, as Spinoza sometimes does, of his pietas. He also speaks of piety toward one’s fellow men or one’s country (e.g., at III/244/6–7).

Given the TTP’s goal of persuading educated Christians that allowing religious liberty is not necessarily harmful to their religion, emphasizing the religious connotations of pietas seems particularly appropriate here. Perhaps, if I were to revise Volume I, I might bring it into line with Volume II. But I would still need a Glossary entry to explain why this might be misleading.

PLAN, ADVICE

Consilium

Consilium is highly ambiguous, and overlaps in meaning with concilium, which, however, does not have as wide a range of meanings.

PLEASE

Placere

POLITICAL PRACTITIONER, POLITICS

Politicus, politica

There is no happy choice for politicus. Wernham and Shirley both opted for “statesman,” which doesn’t easily fit contexts where Spinoza says politici have a reputation for cunning and the pursuit of private or partisan interests (TP i, 2). “Politician” has those negative connotations, but our politics being what it is, fails to suggest the positive characteristics Spinoza attributes to politici: a deep understanding of public affairs, grounded in personal experience and a knowledge of history, and a concern for the interests of the whole community. I’ve opted for “political practitioner,” which is unhappily cumbersome, and not self-explanatory. I intend this Glossary entry to stipulate a meaning for this phrase, as used in this translation.

Spinoza’s model is Machiavelli, who he thinks knew a great deal about human nature and public affairs, was wise in his judgments, and cared deeply about the city he worked for. (Cf. TP v, 7.) He knows why Machiavelli acquired his bad reputation, but judges him charitably. This evaluation reflects partly his general attitude toward human shortcomings (a sadness that traits so common and harmful should be so difficult to eliminate, combined with a determination to understand them and profit by the knowledge), partly his position on natural law (which makes it hard for him to condemn a political actor who dedicates himself unflinchingly to the good of his country), and partly his appreciation of the difficulty of keeping one’s hands clean in politics. To understand how Spinoza could regard Machiavelli as a model political thinker, it’s necessary not to regard him as the Prince of Darkness. One might begin by reading David Wootton’s introduction to his edition of Machiavelli’s political writings or Isaiah Berlin’s “The Originality of Machiavelli,” in Berlin 1997.

POWER, 'POWER

Potentia, potestas

In classical Latin potentia typically refers to an ability to do something, which may be possessed either by animate or by inanimate things. Among these abilities would be the power a person or group of people has to exercise control over others, or to influence them. But potentia is not limited to that kind of power, and its use carries no implication that the power has any claim to legitimacy. So far as I can see, Spinoza’s usage of potentia is entirely consistent with this. So I translate potentia by “power” without hesitation or qualm. (I note in passing that “power” is also a very common translation of vis.)

Potestas is another matter. The typical Latin usage of potestas is different, in that it very often (not always) refers to power arising in an institutional context from a person’s (or collective body’s) position in that institution. It’s often the power a political or military or religious leader has to control or command others. It’s also used for the power a father has over his children, or a master over his slaves. Spinoza’s usage seems to conform to this pattern, insofar as he very often (not invariably) uses potestas to refer to the kind of power which might be thought to have a kind of legitimacy arising from an institution people have created. This seems to be the case, for example, in TP iii, 3 and 8. Ramond’s notes to these passages are quite helpful. But there are also passages where Spinoza apparently uses potestas as if it were nothing but a synonym for potentia, and did not have any moral connotations. Clear cases occur, I think, in TP ii, 6–10. See also III/280/30.

The absence of moral connotations in the ordinary Latin usage of potentia is part of what makes Spinoza’s doctrine that a thing’s right of nature extends as far as its power does—jus naturae eo usque se extendere quo usque ejus potentia se extendit (TTP xvi, 3)—disturbing to those who would like to distinguish between might and right. Throughout TTP xvi, 3–4, the Latin translated by “power” is potentia. There’s a similar equation of power with right later in that chapter, when Spinoza writes that “everyone had to contract to obey the supreme ’power [summa potestas] in everything, either tacitly or explicitly, when they transferred to it all their power [potentiam] to defend themselves, i.e., all their right [jus]” (TTP xvi, 26).

Making some distinction between potentia and potestas seems particularly desirable in contexts where both terms are present. An example is TTP xvii, 11, which reads: quanquam hac ratione jus et potestatem imperii satis amplam concipimus, nunquam tamen fiet ut ullum adeo magnum detur ut ii qui id tenent potentiam absolute ad omnia quae velint habeant, which I translate as “in this way we conceive the right and 'power of the state to be ample enough. Still, it will never be so great that those who hold it have an absolute power to do whatever they wish.” I take this to mean that no matter how great the state’s de jure power—and the constitutional arrangements outlined in TTP xvi put no limits on its de jure power—its de facto power will always be limited.

There are some cases where potestas refers to what is more naturally thought of as a right which some individual has against other individuals. So when Spinoza speaks of the potestas se defendendi which each person has (e.g., in TTP Pref., 30–31), I translate that as a “right of self-defense.” (This is consistent with classical usage, where “right” is a possible translation of potestas, but not of potentia.)

When you read “supreme 'power(s)” in the translation, the Latin is invariably summa potestas (or summae potestates), a phrase commonly used by seventeenth-century political theorists to refer to the holder(s) of sovereign power. The summa potestas is the ultimate ruler in the sense that the institutional arrangements do not provide any way within the institution of challenging the decisions of that person (or collective body). See below, on SOVEREIGN (TY). The claim to legitimacy which these powers have might not be a very good one, in the opinion of outsiders. But the presumption is that it’s generally accepted in the institution within which it arises. “Power,” in this sense, has a certain moral weight.

There is a significant school of Spinoza interpretation which attaches great importance to the distinction between potentia and potestas. (See, e.g., Negri, 1981, 1982; Negri/Hardt, 1991; Deleuze 1981/2001) Unfortunately I don’t understand what these interpreters mean by the distinction they draw. So I can’t say whether I think they’re right to think that Spinoza systematically makes the same distinction. In any case, it’s not clear how we might conveniently represent that distinction in English if he did make it. Negri’s English-language translator comments that the question of how to translate the two terms is “intractable,” and resorts to distinguishing the two sense of “power” by capitalizing the English term when it translates potestas and leaving it uncapitalized when it translates potentia. My policy of attempting to reproduce the capitalization of the seventeenth-century editions precludes that solution. But I use a modification of it, distinguishing occasions when “power” translates potestas by prefixing a prime symbol, thus: 'power. This should at least make it easier for readers to decide what they think about Spinoza’s usage of these terms.

There are certain phrases in which potestas commonly occurs—in sua potestate, or sub potestate. In these cases there does not seem to be any suggestion that the power arises from any institutional arrangements, or has any moral weight. This is particularly clear where being under someone’s potestas is defined at TP ii, 10.

POWER OF UNDERSTANDING

Captus

PRACTICE

Praxis

Equated with experientia at III/274. This term occurs mainly in the TP.

PRAYER

Precatio

PREACH

Praedicare

Generally praedicare means “to preach” or “proclaim” or “teach.” Rarely does it mean to predicate something of a subject, but this usage does occur in TTP xii, 19 and Letter 42 (at IV/210/16).

PRECARIOUS[LY]

Precario

The ambiguity of precario makes its translation difficult. Spinoza is much concerned about rulers who must rule precario (as in TTP xvi, 24; xvii, 107, 108, 110; TP vi, 5; viii, 3). Generally I have translated this as ruling “by entreaty,” or “at someone else’s pleasure.” But in many of these contexts it is quite tempting, and perhaps equally correct, to use the English cognate, reflecting the fact that a ruler has an uncertain power if his ability to have his commands obeyed depends on the voluntary cooperation of others. It’s a further point, of considerable importance to Spinoza’s political theory, that since every ruler depends, in some degree, on the voluntary cooperation of others, every ruler’s power is to some degree shaky. Spinoza is particularly concerned about the existence within a society of an alternative source of authority, competing with the authority of the ruler, as the Hebrew prophets often did.

PREJUDICE

Praejudicium

In TTP ii, 24, praejudicium is equated with an opinio praeconcepta, occurrences of which are indexed under opinio.

PRESCRIPTION

Praescriptum

PRESERVE

Conservatio

PRETEXT, GUISE

See SPECIES

PRIEST⁶

Pontifex, sacerdos

Sometimes Spinoza modifies pontifex with the adjective summus to refer to a high priest (usually the high priest of the Jews, though it might be the high priest of any religion whose priesthood has a hierarchical structure); sometimes pontifex has that connotation even without the modifier. And sometimes it seems to be just a general term for a priest of any sort.

When pontifex occurs in the same context as sacerdos, I believe Spinoza intends to make a distinction between the high priest (pontifex) and an ordinary priest (sacerdos). And wherever a hierarchy of priests is implied, with one priest having ultimate authority, pontifex will be the term for that priest. When I think Spinoza intends pontifex to refer to the pope, I use “pontiff.” When I think he means any priest with ultimate authority in religious matters, “high priest.”

Where the reference is clearly to the high priest of the Jews, I index the term separately from the general index for pontifex, even if that qualification is not explicit.

PROFIT

Lucrum

PROMISE

Promissio, promittere; polliceri

Spinoza equates a promise with a transfer of right at III/205/28. Promittere is the verb Spinoza most commonly uses for promising, and occurs frequently in the TTP. It does not often occur in the TP, where Spinoza is more apt to use polliceri. Sometimes fides has the sense of a promise which has been given (e.g., in TP ii, 12). When it does, I have generally translated it by “assurance.”

PROPER (SENSE)

Genuinus sensus

The “proper” sense seems to be the primary sense, from which other uses may be derived. Cf. TTP i, 26.

PROPERTY (PECULIAR)

Proprium

I use the phrase “peculiar property” to translate proprium, which in traditional logic is a very special kind of property, one which all and only members of the species possess, without its constituting the essence of the species. (The traditional example is capacity for laughter in the species man.) We don’t have very many occurrences of this term in Spinoza, so it’s difficult to be sure that he intends to use it in the traditional way. Cf. TP ii, 5, where the usage does not seem traditional. Uses where proprium is translated “own” will generally not be indexed as having little philosophic interest in their own right.

PROTEST

Reclamare

TTP xv, 10, seems to show that Spinoza thinks that if your reason protests against a proposition, in your mind you deny it, whatever your lips may say. Cf. E II P49S.

PROVE

confirmare, comprobare

I’ve come to think that in the TTP at least Spinoza uses confirmare and comprobare pretty much synonymously and that “prove” is often the best translation for them, though Spinoza tends to use them in contexts where there is an appeal to experience or scriptural authority, and the “proof” is strong, but not rigorously demonstrative (i.e., does not establish its conclusion with mathematical certainty). An important context is TTP v, 35–39, where he uses both terms. See also v, 3. TTP viii, 46, and xii, 4, are interesting contexts, where confirmare seems to mean “strengthen the authority of.” Sometimes “confirm” does seem right for confirmare (e.g., at xvii, 103).

Spinoza also frequently uses ostendere, here translated “to show,” in such contexts.

PUBLIC AFFAIRS

Respublica, negotium publicum, commune, imperii

In the TTP and the correspondence, I normally translate respublica by “republic.” On the implications of that translation, see below, at REPUBLIC.

The situation in the TP is more complicated. Spinoza gives us an official definition of respublica in TP iii, 1, where “public affairs” seems the most suitable translation. This translation seems to work in some earlier passages of that work (e.g., TP ii, 17), and in some, but not all, of the later chapters (e.g., “public affairs” works in iii, 10; iv, 2, 3; v, 1; and vi, 18, but not in viii, 3, or xi, 1–2). The Pléiade editors thought the change with respect to the use of this term “one of the most notable evolutions observed in Spinoza’s vocabulary between the TTP and the TP” (p. 1490). But it seems that if Spinoza intended to use this term in a new sense, he did not consistently carry out that intention.

In the TTP Spinoza had used somewhat different language to express what seems to be the same concept: negotium publicum, or commune, or negotia imperii (translated “public business” or “affairs of state“). This language occurred too infrequently to make the index, but examples can be found at III/197, 222, 223, 225, 233. It’s not common in the TP, but not entirely absent.

PUBLISH

Edere, vulgare

Although edere and vulgare often mean “publish” in the sense in which we would use that term, it sometimes refers to an informal type of publication which might better be called “circulation.” When Spinoza says that the books of the New Testament were first “made available” in languages other than Hebrew (TTP vii, 15), the process was not publication in the sense that term has now.

PUNISHMENT

Supplicium

RABBI

Rabinus

See Gebhardt V, 16, for useful comment on this term.

READING, TO READ

Lectio, legere

“Reading” is my default translation for lectio. Both the Latin and the English are ambiguous, between a non-technical sense in which it refers simply to the act of reading a text (exemplified at TTP iv, 19; v, 44) and a technical sense in which it refers to “the form in which a given passage appears in a copy or edition of a text” (OED 6, exemplified at TTP vii, 23, 58, 63, 67). In some occurrences of the technical sense of lectio it has seemed better to translate by “version.“

REASON

Ratio

Ratio is a term which resists simple treatment. Principally it is used to refer either to a faculty of the mind, or to a ground offered for believing or doing something, or to an argument. Spinoza’s commitment to reason is nicely expressed in TTP xv, 23, where he writes that “reason . . . is really the light of the mind, without which it sees nothing but dreams and inventions.” For a caution about understanding Spinoza’s commitment to reason, see the entries on EXPERIENCE, FOUNDATION, and HISTORY OF NATURE.

Ratio sometimes is equivalent to natura, in the sense of the essence of a thing. TTP viii, 23, is a passage illustrating this. It also has a non-technical use in which it might be translated manner or way; occurrences in this sense will not be indexed unless as part of a phrase which seems important in its own right.

REBELLION, REBELLIOUS

Seditio, seditiosus

My default translation for seditio and its cognates is “rebellion.” I take it that in modern English usage “sedition” has more strongly negative connotations, as involving some degree of disloyalty. Sometimes this seems warranted (e.g., in TTP xix, 35; xx, 36). But for the most part “rebellious” seems sufficient.

RECORD OF FACT

Narratio

See HISTORY

RELIGION

religio

What distinction does Spinoza make between religion and superstition? He clearly wants to make a distinction between these phenomena which is not relative to the speaker or the context—as it is in Hobbes. (Cf. Leviathan vi, 36; xi, 26.) In Letter 73 Spinoza says that the chief difference between religion and superstition is that religion has wisdom as its foundation, whereas superstition has ignorance as its foundation (IV/308a–309a). But he treats belief in miracles as superstitious, and would probably regard as superstitious attempts to avert disaster through prayer and sacrifice (TTP Pref., 3), and the belief that seers can foretell the future (TTP Pref., 5–6). If this is right, much of what we normally classify as ordinary religious practice, Spinoza would regard as superstition. In his reply to Albert Burgh Spinoza calls Catholicism a form of superstition, and attributes the persistence of Judaism to the effectiveness of its superstition (IV/321a–323a). I believe he would regard as superstitious any belief in an invisible, intelligent, powerful, supernatural agent who can be influenced by prayer, sacrifice, and other forms of religious ritual.

REPEAL

abrogare

Where abrogare refers to the action of a government, as it usually does, “repeal” seems right. In some contexts it refers to the action of a citizen, in which case “disregard” is more appropriate.

REPRESENTATIVE, DEPUTY

Vicarius

REPUBLIC

Respublica (or res publica)

“Republic” is my standard translation for respublica in the TTP. My intention in adopting it is simply to signal the presence of a (potentially theory-laden) term which, it often appears, might equally well be translated “state.” But I try to reserve “state” for imperium as much as possible. It often occurs in the same context, and I would like readers to be aware when Spinoza is using respublica rather than imperium. These indications of Spinoza’s usage are intended to help English readers work out their own theory of that usage.

There’s a use of the term “republic” in political theory which Russell Hanson crisply summarized when he wrote that

the hallmark of republican politics is the subordination of different interests to the common weal, or what is in the interest of all citizens. To ensure this outcome, government in a republic can never be the exclusive preserve of one interest or social order; it must always be controlled jointly by representatives of all major groups in a society. (“Republic,” Routledge Encyclopedia of Philosophy)

In some contexts it does appear that Spinoza intends to use respublica to designate a state in which particular interests are subordinated to the common interest. See particularly TTP xvi, 34–37. But I’ve been unable to find any context where he uses respublica to classify a state as having the kind of power-sharing which Hanson associates with the term (and which historians generally associate with the paradigm of all republics, pre-imperial Rome). Moreover, Spinoza does use respublica in TTP v, 15, to refer to Egypt under the Pharaoh, and in xvii, 18, to refer to the Roman state after it succumbed to what was effectively one-man rule, even if republican forms were retained. The use of “republic” thus runs some risk of being misleading. But it seemed best to run that risk, in order to give a better sense of Spinoza’s usage.

TTP v, 15, seems to be a good context to show that respublica and imperium are sometimes treated as rough synonyms. I think this is quite common, though not always so clear. (Cf. Totaro’s comment, Totaro 2007, 499n1.) That respublica and imperium are no more than rough synonyms is clear from the fact that imperium has a wider range of possible meanings. Respublica is never used in a way which would invite translation by the terms “authority” or “command” or “sovereignty.”

In the TP respublica often requires a different treatment. See the official definition in iii, 1, where Spinoza defines several of the terms he uses in his political theory. There he gives respublica a special sense, where it clearly does not designate either a state in general or a special kind of state, but an aspect of any state, its common activities, as directed by the sovereign. See PUBLIC AFFAIRS.

REPUTATION

Fama

RESPONSIBILITY

Cura

See CARE

RESTRAIN, LIMIT

Coercere

REVELATION

Revelatio

I believe the phrase Prophetia sive Revelatio in TTP i, 1, should be taken as marking a genuine equivalence, with the consequence that whatever uncertainty attends prophecy also attends revelation.

REVERE

See WORSHIP

REWARD, COMPENSATION

Praemium

RIGHT

Jus

Jus presents harder problems for the translator than lex does. Classically it’s ambiguous between “law” and “right,” the former understood (roughly) as a kind of command, the latter understood (roughly, again) as a kind of permission. Cf. Leviathan xiv, 3, where Hobbes criticizes legal theorists for confusing jus and lex, which “ought to be distinguished, because ‘right’ [jus] consisteth in a liberty to do or to forbear, whereas ‘law’ [lex] determineth and bindeth to one of them.” The ambiguity Hobbes complains of is deeply embedded in classical usage.⁷ It is often difficult to decide which sense is in play.

The translator’s life would be easier if Spinoza consistently used jus and lex in the way Hobbes recommended. And often Spinoza does use jus in the sense of a right, a principle permitting a certain kind of action. A good example occurs in TTP xvi, 2, where he writes that “it is by the supreme right [jus] of nature that fish are masters of the water, and that the large ones eat the smaller.” But he is not consistent about this. Often he uses jus in what must be a prescriptive sense, as when he writes that before the exodus the Jews “had no laws [leges] peculiar to themselves, and were not bound by any law [lex is presumably understood], except natural law [jus naturale], and, no doubt, the legislation [jure] of the Republic in which they were living (insofar as it was not contrary to divine natural law [legi divinae naturali])” (TTP v, 14). In general, when it seems to me that Spinoza is talking about a permissive principle, I translate jus as “right.” When it seems to me that he is talking about a principle which binds people to act in a certain way, I translate jus as “law.” Translators sometimes try to accommodate the ambiguity of jus by giving it a double translation. The NS translator does this at III/308/11, when he renders jura by rechten en wetten. I follow him there, but in general don’t like this practice.

Though I’ve translated TTP v, 14, in the way which seems to me best, the whole idea of a jus naturale—that is, of a prescriptive law, which might bind the people who are subject to it, but which would be independent of any human legislative body—seems very problematic in Spinoza. The account of natural right he develops in TTP xvi, 2–11 says clearly that each individual has a natural right to do whatever it can do, that it’s only in virtue of our being members of a political community that we can be said to be bound or obliged to do anything.

I find Spinoza’s argument for this claim in TTP xvi unsatisfactory,⁸ but I take TTP iv, where Spinoza argues that God cannot be conceived as a lawgiver, to provide a better argument. It’s common in early modern natural law theory to think of natural law as a divine command, and Hobbes had argued that the only way we can properly conceive the laws of nature as laws is to think of them as divine commands.⁹ Spinoza argues in TTP iv, 23–37 that God cannot be conceived as someone who creates law by issuing commands. So it’s hard to know what the term jus naturale might mean for Spinoza—at least if jus naturale is defined as a natural prescriptive law. Nevertheless, that notion is clearly in the text and the translation should reflect this. An interesting case occurs in TTP xvi, 18.

Though jus can mean “law” in Spinoza, I think that usually it means “right.” I take it that Spinoza conceives of natural rights in much the way Hobbes does, as entailing that their possessor is permitted to do or have something, without excluding others from an equal (or perhaps greater) right to do or have that thing. So if, in the state of nature, I see food which I take to be necessary for my self-preservation, I have a natural right to use it. But so do you, if you are similarly situated. We should not think that anyone has given us this permission or that anyone has a duty to see that we can exercise that right. It’s just the case that no one has any exclusive right to use it. In the end our respective “rights” will be determined by our comparative power.

I’ve translated the phrase jus et institutum naturae by “the right and established practice of nature.” This phrase doesn’t occur often, but the contexts where it does occur are important (most notably, TTP xvi, 2). “Established practice,” though sanctioned by the OLD, and as good as any other option I can think of, is not ideal. Spinoza seems to understand this language as referring to the way things necessarily act, in accordance with their nature. So it’s an “established practice” in nature that the large fish eat the smaller. We should not imagine that this “practice” comes from a decision anybody had any choice about. This is just the way things are—necessarily. And because things are necessarily that way, there can be no moral objection to their being that way. A context which I think supports this interpretation is TTP xvi, 19.

RIGHT

Fas

Fas and nefas refer primarily to what is considered right (permissible) or not according to divine law, though classically they can refer to acts in accordance with or contrary to the moral law. I think Spinoza tends to use these terms in their primary sense, but it is not always easy to tell.

RIVAL

Aemulus

RULE

Regula, imperium, dominus, princeps, rex

RULER

Princeps, imperator, rector

SADNESS

Tristitia

SALVATION, WELL-BEING, SAFETY

Salus

SCIENCE

Scientia

Scientia and its cognates occur quite frequently and often in contexts where it seems to me that the obvious translation, “science,” is going to be misleading. See the entry KNOWLEDGE.

scientia naturalis [= cognitio naturalis]
natural science
III/16, 23, 68, 81

scientia vera [= explicatio per primas causas]
true science
III/29, 30

SCORN

Contemptus

SCRIBE

Scriba

For discussion, see AUTHOR.

SECT, SECTARY, SECTARI

Secta, sectator, to follow (habitually, constantly)

The connotations, I think, are that a sectary follows a particular leader constantly, and hence (on the assumption that any leader is bound to go wrong some of the time) blindly or uncritically.

SECULAR

Profanus

SECURITY

Securitas

In TTP iii, 20, Spinoza says that the end of every state is to live securely and conveniently. There is a similar statement in TP i, 6. In TTP xx, 12, he says that the end of the republic is really freedom. Perhaps the tension is somewhat lessened if we recall that for Spinoza freedom requires mastery of the passions, and that in a state where there is no security, the passion of fear will be unavoidable and difficult to control.

SEDITION, SEDITIOUS

Seditio

See comment under REBELLION

SENATE

Senatus

In its frequent occurrences in the TP, I translate senatus by “senate.” Similarly in Letter 75. But this seemed wrong for the one occurrence in the TTP, in viii, 33, where “assembly of elders” seemed better.

SENTENCE

Sententia

It’s clear that sententia is used ambiguously, but not clear how best to capture the ambiguity. In one crucial context (TTP vii, 16–18), it seems that Spinoza is talking initially about linguistic artifacts, considered in abstraction from their meaning, which is yet to be determined. I’m not sure this is what Spinoza means, but it’s what I mean when I translate sententia by “sentence.” Sometimes, however, he seems to be talking about the sentence taken, not in abstraction from its meaning, but as interpreted in a particular way, perhaps the most common or natural way. See TTP vii, 19, where I use “statement” to mean “a sentence interpreted in a particular way.” Two sentences will make the same statement if the same fact makes them true. Elsewhere Spinoza clearly has in mind the opinions those sentences express. In such passages I use “opinion.” See also UTTERANCE

SERVICE

Vacatio

SHAMELESSNESS

Turpitudo

SHREWD

Callidus

Callidus occurs frequently in conjunction with astutus (here typically translated “cunning“). It seems clear that Spinoza intends some distinction between these terms, without its being quite clear what the distinction is. Both seem to refer to an ability to make intelligent use of your experience, combined, perhaps, with a certain lack of scruple. Pace Ramond (in his note to TP i, 3), I don’t think we can say simply that callidus has positive connotations and astutus negative ones. It’s true that astutus is connected with the notion of trickery, whereas callidus is more connected with a skill acquired by experience. But TP vii, 4 seems to be a context where both terms are used in a positive sense. Hence, I’ve rendered astutus by “clever” there.

SIMPLE

Simplex

Yes, this is a property of God. But it seems to just mean “not composed of parts.” See Letter 35 (and Letter 36 at IV/184).

SIN

Peccatum, peccare

In classical Latin and in Spinoza peccare has a much broader meaning than “sin” does in English, often being used to refer to mistakes and wrong acts without any implication of moral fault or religious offense. (The meaning seems to be much narrower in Ecclesiastical Latin.) This makes it feel somewhat strange to use “sin” for peccare in certain passages (e.g., in TP iv, 4–5, and viii, 19–20), where it was tempting to translate peccare by “do wrong” or “break the law.” Nevertheless I decided that in this case I should accept a certain strangeness for the sake of consistency.

Spinoza’s most important discussions of sin are in TP ii, 6–8, 18–23. TP ii, 6 is particularly interesting for its rejection of the doctrine of original sin.

SKILL

Ars

SLAVE, SERVANT

Servus

Servus is ambiguous between these two possibilities. Generally I have translated servus by “slave,” but it’s not clear that this is always appropriate. Cf. Spinoza’s discussion of slavery in TTP xvi, 32–35, and his reference to the Babylonian captivity in xix, 13–15.

SOCIAL ORDER, SOCIETY

Societas

I favor “social order” as a translation of societas when I think Spinoza is conceiving the societas as one which has laws someone is empowered to enforce. This occurs frequently, and seems to be the most common usage. Cf. TTP iii, 14–16, 20; v, 18; xvi, 25; and especially iv, 29, where Spinoza equates forming a societas with setting up an imperium.

But sometimes Spinoza contemplates the possibility of a societas which does not require laws, e.g., at TTP v, 20. There I prefer “society.” This is a “possibility” only in a loose sense of the term: it would require all men to desire only what reason teaches them to desire, and men are not constituted in a way which would permit this “possibility” to be realized. “Society” also seems preferable at TTP v, 22 and 23, where Spinoza seems to be thinking of the members of the society as a collective entity, but in abstraction from the government they might institute, and at TTP v, 33, where he is thinking of a society as a collective entity which transcends the boundaries of any organized political community.

The index includes references to the correspondence with Oldenburg regarding the Royal Society, described as a “philosophic” society (IV/164). I use “alliance” when societas refers to the kind of union formed by two states, as in TP vii, 24.

SOUL

Anima

In general my preferred translation of anima is “soul.” But anima does not occur often in the works translated in Volume II, and when it does, it’s usually in the letters of Burgh or Steno. The occurrences in the TTP sometimes need to be translated by “life” or “breath.“

SOVEREIGN(TY), SUPREME POWER, SOVEREIGN POWERS

(Summum) imperium, summa potestas, summae potestates

I take this family of terms to refer to the ultimate decision-making body in a state, whether that is an individual (as in a monarchy), a small group (as in an aristocracy or oligarchy), or the whole body of citizens (as in a democracy). Cf. Grotius 1647: “By supreme power (summa potestas) I understand the person or body with authority (imperium) over the people (populo) subject only to the authority of God” (I, 1). Similarly in Grotius 1625: “That [power, potestas] is called supreme whose acts are not subject to the right of anyone else, so that they cannot be rendered invalid by the will of any other human” (I, iii, 7). Cf. Hobbes, DC v, 11.

As I understand his political philosophy, Spinoza, like Hobbes and Bodin, thought that there must be a sovereign in any state, though unlike them he preferred democracy to the other possible forms of government. In the TTP he makes this clear as early as v, 23, 25. Though imperium is highly ambiguous in Spinoza, TP ii, 17 seems to be a context where it is particularly clear that sometimes it means sovereignty.

SPEAK, SAY

Loqui

SPECIAL

Singularis, peculiaris

“Special” can represent either singularis or peculiaris, terms which seem to be used interchangeably in TTP iii, 22. But I translate singularis differently in different contexts, as special, but also as singular, individual, or particular.

SPECULATION, SPECULATIVE

Speculatio, speculativus

The notion of speculation enters into a number of central Spinozistic theses. He condemns making it a crime to hold certain speculative opinions (TTP Pref., 11). He is opposed to interpreting Scripture in the light of Greek philosophical speculations (Pref., 18; xiii, 4–6), and thinks religion would be improved if it were freed of all philosophic speculations (xi, 24). He contends that the prophets do not speak with authority when they discuss speculative matters (i, 24; ii, 15, 24–51).

But what are speculative opinions? It seems that Spinoza has in mind principally scientific, philosophical, or theological claims about such things as the nature of the solar system, the nature of God, and human freedom. In TTP ii, 52, speculative opinions are contrasted with those which concern the conduct of our lives. And in iv, 16, they seem to involve contemplation of the nature of God. (Cf. Boethius, Consolation of Philosophy iv, 1; v, 2.)

In xviii, 23, Spinoza suggests that because speculative opinions are subject to debate, they are uncertain. But at xiii, 6, he says that the fundamentals of Scripture enumerated in the preceding chapter are speculative matters, and some of those at least—the existence and omnipotence of God, for example—are presumably propositions he thought were certain, if not for everyone, then at least for philosophers. Cf. v, 38–39.

STATE

Imperium, civitas, status

I discussed the problems of translating imperium at length in Curley 1997. Though I’ve changed my mind to some extent about the issues, that discussion may still be useful to fanatical Spinozaphiles. And anyone who can read French will want to consult Akkerman 1997.

“State” is still by far the term I use most frequently to translate imperium, understanding that term in those contexts to refer to any organized political society, no matter what its particular form of organization, so long as there is some person (or collective body) in it which has the ultimate authority to make, enforce, and repeal laws, and decide about war and peace, and other collective actions of the society. A central passage illustrating this usage is TTP iii, 12–21.

The term imperium, in this sense, thus implies that the government of a society so organized is sovereign. So in TTP iii, 47; v, 14, when Spinoza talks about the loss of the Jewish imperium, he is referring to a time when the Jewish state ceased to exist as an independent political entity.

Quite frequently Spinoza uses imperium to refer to the person (or collective body) which has the right or power to make final decisions, or to the power that person or body has. In such cases I typically translate imperium by “sovereign” or “sovereignty.” Important passages illustrating this usage are TTP v, 23, 27–28; TP ii, 17. TTP xvi, 47, is an interesting context where civitas occurs in the sense of a state, and imperium to refer to its sovereignty.

Less frequent, but not rare, are contexts in which it seems best to translate imperium by “command” (TTP iv, 7, 27; vi, 4, 55; xv, 9; xvi, 61) or “control” (TTP ii, 51; xiv, 27; xv, 49; xvii, 8, 9) or “rule” (TTP iv, 68; v, 22; vi, 3, 4, 58, 69; xvi, 6; xx, 1, 3) or “authority” (TTP v, 22; xix, 35; TP ix, 14). Rarely it seems necessary to translate imperium by “empire,” e.g., in TTP x, 25 or xii, 39.

I take it that “second state” (secundum imperium) in discussions of the political history of the Jewish state refers to the period more commonly known now as the Second Temple period, which lasted from c. 538 B.C.E., when the exiles returned from Babylon and rebuilt the temple until the destruction of the temple in 70 C.E. in the first Jewish-Roman war. This period may be subdivided into the period of Persian domination, from c. 538 to Alexander’s conquest in 332, the Hellenistic period, from Alexander’s conquest to the revolt of the Maccabees, c. 167, the Hasmonean (or Maccabean) period, from c. 167 to c. 63 when Pompey conquered Jerusalem and Roman rule began. During the Hellenistic period Judea was ruled first by Alexander, then by the Ptolemies, and finally by the Seleucids.

I have avoided translating the phrase summum imperium by “sovereignty,” which passages like TTP xvii, 49 made tempting, preferring “supreme command.” In TP vi, 10, Spinoza does use summum imperium in connection with a military commander who is not sovereign in the Hobbesian sense.

The English “state” also seems often to be the most natural translation for status, when that term is used as a very general term to refer to the condition of some thing.

STORY

Historia

See HISTORY

STRAIGHTFORWARD, GENUINE

Sincerus

Sincerus occurs infrequently, but in two important passages where Spinoza is describing the kind of history of scripture he is calling for. In TTP vii, 7, I rendered it by “straightforward”; in viii, 1, by “genuine.” “Honest” was a tempting alternative. In the only other occurrence I know of, it modifies lectio, and seems best translated by “natural.”

STRENGTH, STRENGTH OF CHARACTER

Fortitudo

Human power is to be measured by fortitudo mentis (III/280, 360). Note the equation of fortitudo with libertas animi at III/275. Cf. the analysis of this concept in E III P59S.

STRIVING

Conatus

The noun conatus is an important term in Spinoza’s metaphysics, referring to the striving of each thing to continue in existence and increase its power of action. The related verb conari frequently does not have a similarly special meaning, but is simply a quite ordinary verb referring to attempts to do something, without any reference to the striving for self-preservation. Conatus in its technical sense does not occur frequently in the texts in Volume II. The non-technical sense of the verb is quite common. I cite here a few occurrences which illustrate the non-technical usage—III/284, 309, 320, IV/268—but will not otherwise index it.

SUBJECT

Subditus, subjicere

As a noun “subject” in Volume II almost always refers to a political subject, not a logical one. The concept of a logical subject does occur in Letter 60, but only there, I think.

SUBJECT TO

Obnoxius

Generally “subject to” works well as a translation of obnoxius (though “liable to” or “vulnerable to” might work equally well). What we are vulnerable to in these cases is generally some evil (superstitution, or an accident, or the affects). In one exceptional case I felt it necessary to render obnoxius by “servile flatterer.“

SUBSIST, STAND FIRM, CONTINUE IN EXISTENCE

Subsistere

The multiplicity of translations is undesirable and should probably be reduced.

SUPERIORITY

Praestantia

SUPERSTITION

Superstitio

On IV/323 Spinoza will say to Albert Burgh that fear of hell is the only cause of superstition, but this seems inconsistent with the analysis in the Preface to the TTP. For more, see RELIGION.

SUPPOSE, PRESUPPOSE

Supponere, praesupponere

Spinoza uses supponere frequently, sometimes in contexts where it seems to me natural to translate it by “suppose,” sometimes in contexts where “presuppose” seems more natural. (I would use “suppose” where the supposition is apparently explicit, and “presuppose” where it seems to be only implicit.) In medieval Latin both senses are apparently common, though it seems neither occurs in classical Latin.

Spinoza uses praesupponere and its cognate, praesuppositio, very infrequently. In those few contexts adherence to the rule of the preceding paragraph seems to require that I translate it by “suppose.“

SYMBOL (OBSCURE)

Hieroglyphicum

The Latin term is a loan word from the Greek, where it seems to refer only to the symbols used in Egyptian writing. Spinoza uses it in a more general sense, to refer to symbols generally, with the connotation, I think, that the meaning of the symbol is obscure. The OLD has nothing to say about hieroglyphicum, but Latinitas Hungariae (the only dictionary in the Database of Latin Dictionaries to have an entry for it) offers an explanation consistent with this theory, and Glazemaker’s translations of the term confirm it. Most of the occurrences in the TTP (i, 20; ii, 20; and vii, 37) are nicely handled by this definition.

The occurrence in ADN. VIII (at TTP vii, 66) is controversial. Strauss took it to mean “unintelligible” or “essentially unintelligible” (Strauss 1988, 148). This seems to me indefensible, given Spinoza’s use of the term elsewhere.

TEACHER

Doctor

This is the role Spinoza assigns to Christ (in TTP vii, 31–32), where the contrast is with one who speaks as a lawgiver. It is also the role he assigns to the apostles (in TTP xi), where the contrast is with one who speaks as a prophet.

TEACHING

Doctrina, documentum

So far as I can see, Spinoza uses the Latin terms pretty nearly synonymously, except that documentum is especially likely in contexts where the teachings in question are moral, whereas doctrina is more apt to be used when the teachings in question include those Spinoza would class as speculative. And in those contexts I am more apt to translate doctrina by “doctrine.”

TEMPERAMENT

Temperamentum

Classically temperamentum can mean either a mixture or blend of substances “in due proportion” or a compromise between extremes of policy, conduct, or character. Both meanings seem to be in play in Spinoza’s usage of this term: he thinks of a person’s psychological dispositions to cheerfulness or sadness as having a basis in the constitution of his body. (Cf. TTP ii, 13, 18.)

TESTIMONY, TESTIFY

Testimonium, testari

Testimonium can mean testimony, but often needs to be translated by “evidence,” e.g., at III/75/10, where the reference is to the signs by which Moses established his authority.

THEOCRACY

Theocratia

In TTP xvii, 31–32, Spinoza says the Hebrew state in the period after the covenant at Mount Sinai “could be called a theocracy,” on the ground that it made no distinction between the civil law and religion, counted anyone who was defective in religion as an enemy of the state, and considered anyone who died for religion as having died for his country. Religion here was understood as obedience to God’s revealed will. But he also says that all these things consisted more in opinion than in fact.

A bit further on in the same chapter (¶41) he calls the Hebrew State after the death of Moses a theocracy, on grounds best explained in xvii, 60.

THEOLOGIAN, FOOLISH THEOLOGIAN

Theologus, theologaster

Theologaster apparently does not occur in classical Latin. There’s no entry for it in the OLD, or in any of the dictionaries available in the Database of Latin Dictionaries. It’s rare in Spinoza, apparently occurring first in a letter from Oldenburg to Spinoza (Letter 7, IV/37), and later in the TTP (xvii, 99). In each case it’s clear that the connotation is negative, though not clear precisely what the problem is with the theologians in question. Glazemaker’s translation in Letter 7 (onnosele Godgeleerden) suggests that they are foolish or silly. His translation in the TTP (onbeleefde bylopers) perhaps suggests rude and inexperienced apprentices. Akkerman translates “pseudo-theologen” (TTP xvii, 99).

THEORETICAL

Theoreticus

At TTP xix, 51, Spinoza glosses theoreticus as the kind of speculation which can never have any use.

THINK OF, THINK UP, INVENT

Excogitare

THOUGHT

Cogitatio

TIME

Tempus

TRUST, TRUSTINGNESS

Acquiescere, credulitas, fides

TRUTH, TRUTHFULNESS

Veritas, veracitas

Veritas, of course, is just “truth.” Veracitas occurs only in TTP vii, 90, an important context which attempts to explain the nature of religion. The term is not classical, and available dictionaries of later Latin on the whole do not seem very helpful. But the general idea suggested by Chauvin’s Lexicon is that it involves an integrity in speech and action, which moves the person who possesses this virtue, not only to speak the truth, but also to do what she believes to be right.

TURK

Turca

Though sometimes Spinoza uses the term “Turca” to refer specifically to subjects of the Ottoman Empire (III/298), more commonly he uses it (as is common in the seventeenth century) to refer to Muslims, of whatever nationality. (Cf. III/8.) For Spinoza the Turks exemplify the worst aspect of ordinary religion: its use of superstition to control the common people, and its hostility to freedom of thought and expression (III/7). Consistently with his pluralist tendencies, he holds that Turks and other non-Christians “have the spirit of Christ” and will be saved if they practice justice and loving-kindness toward their neighbors (IV/225b). He does not appear to think that Turks generally behave better or worse than any other religious group in this regard (III/8). But like many Europeans of his day, he is not well-informed about the history of Islam, thinking that it has never experienced schism. (Cf. IV/322a.)

UNCONDITIONAL

See ABSOLUTE

UNIVERSAL

Universalis, catholicus

(THE) UNIVERSE

Universum

Lewis and Short gloss universum as “the whole world,” or “the universe.” Chauvin’s brief equation of universum with mundus seems essentially to agree. I am inclined to add a qualifier: “the totality of finite things.” I suspect that most of Spinoza’s contemporaries would have thought that, if we set God apart, the things in the universe are all finite. But it seems to me likely that Spinoza does not think an enumeration of the totality of finite things (if it were possible) would tell us everything there is in the universe. In addition to the finite things, there are also the fixed and eternal things, which are infinite. Cf. TdIE 100–101 or E I PP 21–23.

UNMANLY, FEMALE

Muliebris

When muliebris is applied to a man, the more obvious translation might be “womanish,” but I have preferred “unmanly” because it seems to me to suggest more clearly a failure to live up to an ideal of manliness which I believe was important to Spinoza. Among the characteristics indicating such a failure would be a disposition to tears, and to invoke divine aid in danger (cf. TTP Pref., 4). There seems to be no denying that however enlightened Spinoza may have been in other respects, he did not hold enlightened views about women, thinking them inferior to men, and naturally subject to being ruled by men (TP xi, 4). Nevertheless, he does sometimes attribute positive traits to the kind of mentality he thinks of as characteristically female, like a disposition to think of God as merciful. Hence, the translation of ingenio muliebri at TTP ii, 17.

USE, USURP

Usurpare

Usurpare can simply mean “use,” and is common in that sense in linguistic contexts. In political contexts it also occurs fairly frequently, but ambiguously, as it seems to me. There are contexts where “usurp,” implying the wrongful taking of power, seems inescapable (e.g., at TTP xvii, 30, 37; xviii, 37; xx, 3, 45). But there are other contexts where it seems best to avoid those negative implications. E.g., in xvii, 20, where Spinoza makes a general statement about what happens when kings take power. The immediate example is Alexander, whose succession to the throne was uncontroversially lawful. Sometimes it seems to me unclear whether the negative connotations are intended. E.g., at TTP xvii, 83, 113, and xviii, 6, the example is the high priests’ assumption of absolute power after the Maccabean revolt, which involved their assuming both religious and political authority. Spinoza clearly disapproves of their rule. But if the description of this event in 1 Maccabees 14 is correct, there doesn’t seem to have been anything unlawful about it. In these contexts I have chosen to describe their action as a “taking for themselves,” rather than a usurpation.

UTTERANCE

Oratio

I take it that when oratio is rendered by “utterance,” which is most of the time, the reference is to a spoken sentence considered in abstraction from the meaning which might be attached to it. TTP vii, 46 seems a clear case where this treatment is right.

VALID

Ratus

VENGEANCE, TO AVENGE

Ultio, ulciscor, vindex

VICE

Vitium

VIRTUE, EXCELLENCE

Virtus

Classically virtus has a wide range of meanings, among which the following are most prominent and relevant to Spinoza’s thought: manliness, courage, strength, excellence, ability, worth, and merit. It can also mean moral goodness, though that meaning is not nearly as central as it is in English and certainly does not suggest chastity, as the English term does. The translation is biased in favor of translating virtus by “virtue,” with the hope that this Glossary entry will be sufficient to correct potential misunderstandings. Frequently in contexts where the translation is “virtue,” it would be equally plausible to translate by “excellence” or “power,” and sometimes I have preferred those terms (particularly “excellence“).

Spinoza’s usage is undoubtedly influenced not only by classical authors, but also by Machiavelli’s use of virtù in The Prince. This is an extremely important concept in Machiavelli, one of Spinoza’s favorite authors. Students should pay particular attention to the discussion of Agathocles in Ch. viii.

VOTE

Suffragium

WAR

Bellum

WARNING, ADVICE

Monitio

WEAK-MINDED, WEAKNESS OF CHARACTER

Impotens animi, impotentia animi

“Weak-willed” would have been a good alternative. The defect appears to be an inability to control one’s passions.

WEAKNESS

Imbecillitas

WEALTH

Divitiae

WELFARE

Salus, incolumitas

Incolumitas is rare, occurring only at III/231 and 233, where it is used (along with pax) to translate shalom in the quote from Jeremiah.

WHOLE

Integer, totus

WICKED; WICKEDNESS

Improbus; malitia

WILL

Voluntas, arbitrium

WISDOM, WISE

Sapientia, prudentia, peritus

I’ve tended to translate prudentia as “wisdom.” Where I use “prudence,” it’s usually because of the presence of sapientia in the same context. Spinoza may not make a sharp distinction between these terms, but it’s convenient to be able to record the difference even if it is only verbal. Classically the term prudentia emphasizes wisdom in practical matters, but it’s not clear to me that it has that connotation for Spinoza. What does seem clear is that prudentia does not have for Spinoza the negative connotations (of excessive caution) which its English cognate seems now to have.

For a discussion of peritus, which I sometimes translate “wise,” see the Glossary entry on EXPERIENCED.

WOMAN

Mulier

WONDER

Admiratio, portentum, miraculum

In Spinoza admiratio and its Latin cognates generally do not have the positive connotations its English cognates do. So “wonder” or some variant thereof generally seems best, signifying a psychological reaction to an extraordinary event.

The Latin portentum does not, in Spinoza’s usage, seem to have the same connotations as its English cognate. It is an extraordinary phenomenon, whether or not it is taken as a sign of some momentous event to come. So it has seemed better to me to avoid using the English cognate.

WORD

Verbum

WORK, EFFECT

Opus

Opus occurs frequently in the controversy over faith and works, discussed in TTP xi, 21, and at greater length in TTP xiv. Note that Spinoza identifies the works necessary for salvation with the practice of loving-kindness and justice. See particularly TTP xiv, 33, and xviii, 26.

TTP vi, 22 is a key passage on the relation between God’s essence and the operations of nature. Chauvin’s definition of operatio as the exercise of some power or forces, from which an effect follows, seems to justify my translation of operari as “to produce an effect.” But I find that translation somewhat cumbersome, and sometimes translate by “act” or “operate.“

WORLD

Mundus

Mundus is commonly translated as “the world,” or (acc. to Chauvin) the structure of all bodies. I have not found any context in Spinoza where it is clearly given its Leibnizian sense of a totality of finite things considered as having temporal dimensions, i.e., as enduring over time, from the beginning of the world to the end. (Cf. his Théodicée, Part I, §8.) But it seems clear that when Leibniz speaks of God as having chosen the best of all possible worlds, he was thinking of each world as having a temporal dimension, as having its future implicit in it at the moment of its creation.

WORSHIP

Adorare, cultus

Where adorare takes a divine being as its object (e.g., at III/8/23, 19/11), or a human being or other finite thing, improperly treated as if worthy of worship (e.g., kings, at III/6/33, or the books of Scripture, at III/10/25, or the golden calf, at III/40/21, or the Sun, Moon, Earth, etc., at III/81/33), I translate adorare by “worship.” But where the object is a human being not being treated as if divine (III/200/12–13), or God’s action through hidden external causes (as at III/47/23), “revere” seemed more appropriate. Cultus and its cognates seem less problematic.

WRITER

Scriptor

For discussion, see AUTHOR.

WRONG

Injuria

The etymology of injuria makes it clear than an injuria is a violation of law or of someone’s rights. This helps to explain the definition at TTP xvi, 41, and much of Spinoza’s usage. There will still be problems: it’s easy to think that injuries from other people violate our rights, not so easy to think that injuries from beasts do. Cf. TTP iii, 13.

ZEAL

Studium

Latin-Dutch-English Index

ABROGARE (LEGEM)

vernietigen, afschaffen (wet)

to repeal, disregard (a law)

III/71, 192, 207, 209, 220, 222, 241, 244, 245, 294, 303, 319, 331, 334, 348

ABSOLUTUS; ABSOLUTE

volkomen (en volstrekt); volkome(nt)lijk, volstrekt(elijk), onbepaaldelijk, ganselijk absolute, unconditional, finished; absolutely, unconditionally, without qualification, without reservation, without exception, completely, simply, in itself, by itself

III/10, 11, 24, 51, 54, 55, 57, 58, 63, 65, 66, 68, 69, 73, 74, 78, 79, 85, 90, 91, 93, 116, 152–54, 160, 169, 172, 173, 177, 179, 181, 185, 187–89, 192–94, 197, 198, 202, 203, 205–11, 215, 221, 222, 229–31, 233–40, 272, 276, 277, 279, 282, 287, 292, 295, 297–99, 302, 308, 309, 313, 314, 317, 320–23, 325, 326, 331, 342, 347, 354, 358, 359

IV/165, 170, 173, 180, 185, 186, 188, 189, 208, 263–65, 267, 278, 319, 331, 335

ABSURDUS

ongerijmd

absurd

III/5, 8, 37, 64, 83, 85, 87, 88, 91, 98, 116, 184, 188, 191, 194, 279, 286, 307, 325, 330–32, 341, 342, 347

IV/166, 183, 245, 251, 253, 255, 258, 259, 278, 283, 309, 315, 319, 323, 326, 332

ACCOMMODARE

schikken, voegen

to accommodate, adapt

III/9, 37, 40, 42, 43, 54, 61, 62, 64, 65, 69, 70, 77, 99, 101, 104, 117, 148, 149, 151, 158, 167, 171, 173, 178–81, 183, 185, 199, 223, 228, 229, 232, 233, 236, 291

IV/170, 171, 208, 209, 210, 214, 217, 301, 314

ACTIO; AGERE

werk, werking, doening; werken, doen, handelen

action; to act, do

III/33, 38, 60, 61, 62, 63, 65, 68–70, 76, 81, 89, 92, 99, 103, 116, 178, 187, 188, 193, 194, 202, 215, 235, 241, 242, 247, 274, 275, 277, 279, 280, 282, 285, 286, 291, 292, 293, 295

IV/221, 264, 285, 294–96, 297, 310–12, 325, 328

ADAEQUATUS; ADAEQUATE

evenmatig; evenmatig(lijk)

adequate; adequately

III/64, 65, 84, 276, 280

IV/269, 270, 284

ADMINISTRATIO; ADMINISTRATOR, ADMINISTER; ADMINISTRARE

bediening; bedienaar; bedienen, bestieren administration; administrator, minister; to administer

III/8, 72, 206–14, 217, 218, 220, 222, 234, 235, 237, 238, 275, 292, 299, 302–4, 306, 331, 332, 344, 345

IV/288, 289

ADMIRATIO; ADMIRARI, MIRARI; MIRUS; ADMIRABILIS

verwondering; (zich) verwonderen (over); wonderlijk, wonder; wonderlijk; wonderlijk wonder, amazement, surprise, admiration; to admire, to wonder (at), to be amazed; amazing, astonishing, a wonder, remarkable; admirable, wonderful

III/5, 8, 9, 24, 27, 28, 34–36, 81, 84, 85, 90, 97, 98, 111n*, 143, 177, 179, 202, 204, 205, 216, 246

IV/178, 236, 250, 281, 287–90, 293

ADORARE

aanbidden

to worship, revere

III/6, 8, 10, 19, 40, 42, 47, 63, 81, 82, 92, 102, 127, 147, 159, 161, 162, 165, 176, 177, 200, 214, 218

ADVERSARIUS; ADVERSARI; ADVERSUS

tegenstrever; uit haat (werken), tegen

zijn, tegen strijden; tegen

opponent; to oppose, be opposed to, be

in conflict with; contrary (to)

III/7, 72, 81, 234, 244, 247, 274, 304, 313, 352

IV/166, 182, 212, 221b, 296, 300, 302, 316, 317, 324

AEQUALITAS; AEQUALIS; INAEQUALITAS; INAEQUALIS

gelijkheid; gelijk; ongelijkheid; ongelijk equality; equal, the same; disproportion; unequal

III/15, 16, 27, 37, 45, 47–50, 54, 59, 61, 73, 74, 88, 170, 177, 195, 196, 198, 203–07, 211, 216, 218–20, 230, 237, 239, 241, 245, 290, 291, 303, 305, 313–16, 322, 327, 329–32, 334–36, 347, 357, 360

IV/190–92

AEQUITAS; AEQUUS; INIQUITAS; INIQUUS

billijkheid, gerechtigheid; rechtvaardig, (het) billijk, het rechte, billijkheid, gerechtig; onbillijkheid, ongerechtigheid; onbillijk equity, righteousness; equitable, (the) right, fair, righteous; inequity; inequitable, wrong, resentful

III/31, 38, 52, 99, 103, 177, 178, 186, 196, 230, 231, 239, 241, 243, 247, 286, 305, 309, 312, 315, 317, 320, 321, 349, 350

IV/190

AESTIMATIO; AESTIMARE

achting; hoogachten, achten, waarderen evaluation; to regard (as), value (as), view (as), assess, ask (as a price)

III/8, 9, 15, 27, 44, 72, 137, 204, 206, 210, 215–17, 234, 243a, 273, 280, 315, 320, 328, 346, 347, 355

IV/164, 166, 167, 209, 214, 216, 253, 301, 303

AETERNITAS; AETERNUS; AB AETERNO; IN AETERNUM

eeuwigheid; eeuwig; van eeuwigheid; voor eeuwig

eternity; eternal, everlasting, permanent; from eternity; to eternity (usu.), forever (occ.)

III/10, 27, 55, 56, 57, 62, 63, 68, 82, 83, 85, 86, 95, 102, 103, 113, 114, 157, 158, 162, 166, 192, 199, 216, 219, 220, 221, 222, 276, 279, 282, 284, 307, 318, 319, 325, 334, 354, 357, 358

IV/181, 185, 186, 198, 211, 224, 251, 255, 257, 281, 283, 284, 288–91, 293, 298, 308, 314, 319, 330, 334

AFFECTUS; AFFICERE

hartstocht, drift; aandoen

affect; to affect

III/6, 12, 25, 26, 31, 67, 73, 98, 187, 188, 190, 199, 202, 203, 214, 240, 273–75, 278, 281, 284, 286, 291, 295, 297, 298, 308, 309, 311, 326, 352, 355–57, 359, 360

IV/208, 221, 266, 267, 312

AMBIGUITAS; AMBIGERE; AMBIGUUS

twijfelachtigheid; twijfelen; twijfelachtig ambiguity; to dispute; ambiguous

III/100, 102, 103, 106, 107, 109, 126, 151, 165, 236, 317, 340

IV/209, 304

AMOR; AMARE; INIMICITIA; INIMICUS

liefde; beminnen, liefhebben; vijandschap; vijand

love; to love; hostility; enemy

III/8, 55, 59–61, 66, 67, 103, 168, 176, 191, 201, 202, 214–16, 233, 245, 274, 287, 288, 310, 356

IV/223, 259, 292, 296, 297, 318

Amor Dei, erga Deum, divinus; Deum amare

love of God, toward God; to love God

III/41, 55, 56, 59–61, 67, 87, 165, 177, 178, 198, 283, 288

IV/213, 221–23, 312, 323, 327

Amor proximi, erga proximum (concivem)

love of one’s neighbor (fellow citizen)

III/168, 174, 176, 177, 216, 275

IV/216, 297

ANCILLA; ANCILLARI

dienstmaagd; een dienstmaagd van . . . ijn handmaid; to be the handmaid of

III/11, 12, 29, 180–82, 184, 188

IV/298

ANGELUS

engel

angel

III/19, 20, 21, 35, 40, 43, 64

IV/165

ANIMA

ziel, leven

soul, breath, life, spirit

III/7, 23, 25, 50, 357

IV/253, 279, 281, 288, 289, 291–95, 297, 298, 303, 322

ANIMUS

gemoed, ziel

heart, mind, spirit, disposition, soul, intention, character

III/5–10, 12, 21, 22, 24–27, 31, 37, 41, 44, 47, 52–54, 57, 59, 62, 65–73, 75, 78, 79, 87–90, 99, 101, 103, 104, 116, 140, 144, 148, 151, 155, 156, 162, 167, 172–74, 176, 178–80, 186, 190, 194, 196, 200, 202, 203, 212–16, 218, 225, 226, 235, 239, 241, 243–45, 247, 274, 275, 280, 296, 298, 308, 310, 321, 324, 327, 340, 343, 360

IV/166, 167, 186, 187, 189, 195, 207, 267, 322, 327, 412

APOSTOLUS; APOSTOLATUS

apostel; apostelschap

apostle; [status of] being an apostle

III/10, 13, 21, 28, 43, 72, 76, 108, 109, 112–15, 151–54, 155–58, 160, 162, 163, 164, 167, 169, 175, 221

IV/215, 282, 283, 285, 287, 288, 296, 314, 318

APPETITUS; APPETERE

lust, begeerte; begeren, trachten appetite, inclination; to want, desire, seek

III/22, 25, 73, 190, 191, 194, 198, 212, 219, 229, 275, 277, 279, 282, 283, 297, 320, 326, 331

IV/252, 266

ARBITRIUM; ARBITRARI

believen, wil; achten, menen

will, decision, initiative; to think, reckon

III/52, 75, 104, 116, 151, 152, 193, 194, 197, 242, 292

IV/208, 210, 214, 216, 217, 252, 296, 325

Libertas arbitrii, liberum arbitrium

free will, freedom of the will

III/178

IV/222, 255, 263, 265, 267

See also LIBERTAS VOLUNTATIS

ARISTOCRATIA, IMPERIUM ARISTOCRATICUM; ARISTOCRATICUS

heerschappij der voornaamsten, bestiering der voortreffelijksten; adelijk, aristocratische

aristocracy, aristocratic state; aristocratic

III/208, 211, 272, 282, 284, 298, 323, 324–26, 328, 337, 346, 347, 353, 356, 358

IV/336

ARS; BONAE ARTES

kunst, list; goede kunsten

art, skill, ingenuity, device, cunning; liberal studies

III/24, 73, 187, 219, 239, 243, 247, 297, 299, 314, 315, 336, 346

IV/188

ATHEISMUS

godverlochening

atheism

III/30, 87

IV/166, 218, 219, 221, 226

ATTRIBUTUM

toevoeging

attribute

III/37, 40, 48, 64, 169–72, 175, 176, 179

IV/181, 260, 261, 275, 277–79, 302, 334

AUTHOR

schrijver, jemand die radt of schrijft, insteller, stichter

author (usu.), someone who urges an action (rar.), someone who holds a position of authority (rar.)

III/25, 35, 43, 55, 93, 98, 99, 101, 102, 105, 108–11, 119, 122–24, 130, 134, 144, 149, 162, 163, 181–84, 225, 272, 310, 334, 351

IV/164, 241, 251, 255, 286, 294, 295, 297, 301–3

AUTHORITAS

gezag, achtbarheid (en gezag), macht en gezag

authority

III/9, 16, 37, 38, 53, 69, 73, 74, 76, 80, 87, 97, 102, 105, 108, 110, 111, 114, 116, 117, 141, 146, 150–53, 155–57, 159, 166, 173, 180–82, 185–87, 196, 198, 202, 209, 214, 217, 218, 220, 222, 223, 226, 228, 234, 235, 237, 238, 241, 243–45, 247, 335, 355

IV/166, 261, 262

AXIOMA

kundigheid

axiom

III/76, 77, 167

IV/184, 197, 199, 209, 210, 212, 224, 260, 303, 305

BEATITUDO; BEATUS; BEATE

zaligheid, geluk, gelukzaligheid; zalig, gelukzalig; gelukzalig

blessedness; blessed; blessedly

III/41, 44, 45, 50, 60, 62, 65, 67, 69–73, 76, 78–80, 87, 97, 103, 111, 116, 155, 164, 174, 184, 186

IV/213, 215, 256, 257, 298, 308, 327

BELLUM

oorlog

war

III/6, 32, 75, 78, 93, 122, 125, 163, 196, 197, 204, 207, 209–11, 214–16, 224, 227, 235, 282, 290–92, 294–96, 298, 299, 300, 303, 305, 306, 310–13, 316–18, 320, 322, 335–37, 348, 351

IV/164, 166, 168

jus belli

law of war, right of war

III/209, 210, 211, 290, 294, 296, 306, 317, 322, 351

BIBLIA

schrift

the Bible

III/91, 99, 101, 104, 106–8, 112, 135, 137–40, 145, 147, 148, 155, 158, 163, 181, 184–86

BONUS; BONITAS; BONA

goed, vroom; goedheid; goederen

good; goodness; goods, possessions, property

III/5, 22, 25, 26, 31, 33, 35, 38, 41, 42, 44, 53, 62, 63, 66–70, 74, 77, 80, 99, 104, 116, 118, 137, 160, 166, 175, 177, 178, 184, 186–88, 191–93, 196, 216, 217, 232, 239, 241, 243–47, 279, 282, 283, 286, 291, 294–96, 299, 300, 305, 311, 316, 318, 328, 333–35, 342, 345, 346, 353, 354, 356

IV/166, 167, 208, 211, 213–16, 221b, 222, 262, 272, 284, 285, 291, 292, 293, 296, 300, 308, 312, 319, 329

bene agere, bonum agere

to act well, to do good

III/42, 50, 52, 54, 66

bonum commune, publicum

common, public good

III/194, 301, 333, 334, 345, 346

IV/274, 316, 329, 333, 334, 352

summum bonum

the supreme good

III/59, 60, 61, 103, 192

IV/220, 223, 228

CAPTUS; CAPERE

bevatting; begrijpen

power of understanding, grasp; to grasp

III/10, 21, 23, 36, 37, 42, 43–45, 54, 62, 65, 70, 77, 78, 81, 84–87, 92, 95, 98, 99, 156, 172, 173, 178, 180

IV/168, 208, 210, 214, 286, 314, 333

CASUS

geval, gevallig ding

chance, event, case, circumstance, outcome

III/31, 33, 87, 89, 92, 93, 101, 109, 124, 137, 163, 164, 229, 231, 274, 292, 353

IV/188, 251, 255, 259, 263

CAUSA

oorzaak

cause, reason, explanation, case

III/5–8, 10, 15, 16, 18, 23, 27–30, 36, 38, 46, 47, 57, 58, 60, 81, 82, 84–86, 89–91, 94, 96, 107, 110, 111, 113, 115, 117, 127, 129, 131, 137, 139, 140, 142, 143, 149, 159, 161, 162, 173, 175, 178, 179, 187, 188, 198, 201, 204, 215–17, 220, 227, 236, 237, 239, 240, 245, 274, 276, 277, 280, 281, 284, 285, 288, 290, 292–95, 297, 299, 301, 302, 304–6, 308–11, 321, 325–27, 329, 331, 333, 338, 342, 353, 357, 358

IV/167, 172, 178–80, 182, 188, 189, 193, 194, 198, 207, 211, 232, 263, 264, 266, 267, 269–71, 275, 277, 278, 297, 302, 305, 307, 308, 312, 315, 317, 323–27, 329, 332, 333

CERTITUDO; CERTUS; INCERTUS

zekerheid; zeker; onzeker

certainty; certain, definite, fixed; uncertain

III/5, 9, 10, 15, 16, 18, 28–31, 34, 47, 48, 52, 57–59, 61, 66, 71, 81, 83–86, 88, 98, 99, 102, 105–7, 109, 111–14, 116, 126, 129, 130, 135, 137, 141, 149, 150, 152, 159, 160, 167, 170, 171, 175, 180, 185–89, 191–93, 199, 200, 211, 213, 233, 236, 237, 274, 275, 279, 281, 283, 288, 295, 308, 309, 313, 327, 354, 357

IV/171–73, 177, 180, 185, 186, 188, 189, 225, 243, 256, 260, 262–66, 275, 279, 281, 283, 284, 286, 288, 290, 293, 297, 298, 304, 307, 310, 318

certitudo mathematica (seu philosophica)

mathematical (or philosophical) certainty

III/30, 32, 179

certitudo moralis

zedige zekerheid

moral certainty

III/30, 31, 32, 111, 185

CHARITAS (ALSO SP: CARITAS)

liefde, genegenheid

loving-kindness

III/10, 11, 42, 71, 80, 97, 162, 166, 168, 170, 171, 173, 175, 176, 177, 179, 180, 185, 186, 216, 226, 229, 230, 243, 247, 288

IV/213, 226, 287, 296, 308

charitas erga proximum

love of one’s neighbor

III/71, 168, 174, 176, 177, 216, 230, 243, 275, 288

IV/213, 216, 220, 226, 297

CIRCUMSTANTIA

omstandigheid

circumstance

III/17, 31, 34, 43, 75, 78, 89, 90, 94, 96, 166, 184, 290, 293

IV/216, 245, 248, 254, 325, 328

CIVIS; CONCIVIS; CIVILIS

burger; medeburger; burgerlijk

citizen; fellow citizen; civil, political

III/61, 196, 204, 206, 210–16, 219–22, 226–28, 238, 240, 241, 273, 276, 284, 285–88, 291, 293–95, 297, 299–303, 305, 306, 308, 309, 311–18, 320, 322, 329, 337, 342, 349, 354, 355, 358

IV/212, 213, 216, 217, 292, 293

CIVITAS

stad, staat, burgerlike staat, burgerschap

state, commonwealth, city, citizenship

III/22, 32, 38, 131, 136, 149, 195n, 196–99, 209, 214, 215, 231, 233, 274, 284, 285–300, 302, 304, 306–8, 309, 313, 315–19, 321, 324, 343, 346, 347, 351, 357

IV/217, 283, 285, 286, 293, 298

CLARUS; CLARUS ET DISTINCTUS

klaar, bekent; klaar en onderscheiden clear, well-known, famous; clear and distinct

III/6, 9, 10, 16, 19, 20, 26, 30, 35, 38, 42, 43, 50, 58, 59, 60, 76–78, 84–86, 100, 101, 102, 104, 111, 113, 136, 148, 149, 171, 184, 336, 357

IV/183, 188, 198, 244, 254, 254, 257, 261, 264, 266, 269, 282

COACTIO; COGERE; COACTUS

dwang; dwingen; gedwongen, bedwongen compulsion; to compel, coerce, force, constrain, require, necessitate; compelled, coerced

III/39, 41, 58, 59, 64, 71, 74, 75, 83, 97, 105, 116, 120, 124, 149, 150, 175, 177, 192, 193, 195–97, 200, 202, 205, 207–9, 214, 216, 218, 236, 239, 245, 278, 282, 296–98, 307, 311, 315, 316, 337, 342, 346, 354, 356

IV/171, 173, 195, 205, 222, 258–60, 263–65, 267, 295, 310, 312, 321

COERCERE

intomen, bedwingen, beteugelen, dwingen

restrain, limit, keep within limits, put down, compel, keep in check, control

III/7, 202, 212, 213, 225, 244, 246, 275, 312, 327, 346, 354

IV/313, 322, 326, 327

COGITATIO; COGITARe

denking, gedacht; denken, overwegen thought, thinking, reflection; to think (of), ponder, intend, deliberate

III/9, 17, 19, 36, 38, 48, 62, 65, 68, 93, 109, 110, 112, 135, 169, 178, 180, 182, 215, 227, 240, 243, 274, 287, 352

IV/174, 179, 184, 185, 188, 208, 259, 263, 265–67, 275–79, 290, 293, 294, 297, 302, 305, 333

COGNITIO; COGNOSCERE

kennis; kennen, onderzoeken

knowledge, inquiry; to know, to investigate, learn, find out (about)

III/3, 10, 15, 16, 17, 21, 27–30, 42, 44, 59, 60, 63, 66, 68, 77, 80, 82, 85, 86, 98–101, 103, 106, 110, 111, 114, 117, 118, 150, 151, 153, 155, 164, 167, 168, 170, 172, 173, 175, 178, 198, 275, 316, 320, 333, 342, 343, 350, 353

IV/167, 169, 170, 189, 210–12, 214, 259, 261, 268, 269, 275, 277, 283, 285, 305, 306, 315, 326, 328, 329

cognitio Dei, cognitio divina; cognoscere (novisse) Deum

knowledge of God; to know God

III/15, 28, 37, 55, 56, 59–62, 67, 85–88, 168–72, 179, 198, 288

COHAERENTIA; COHAERERE

samenhanging; samenhangen

coherence; to cohere

III/191, 279, 319

IV/166, 167, 170, 173

COMMODUM, COMMODITAS; COMMODE; INCOMMODUM

voordeel, middel, nut en voordeel, nuttigheid, bekwaam; in gemakkelijkheid; ongemak

advantage, means, convenient, suitable; conveniently, satisfactorily, comfortably; disadvantage, inconvenience, bad consequence, ailment, ill, difficulty

III/9, 48, 57, 70, 71, 76, 81, 82, 113, 159, 183, 188, 203, 243, 245, 246, 274, 284, 289, 353, 355

IV/216, 234, 235, 303, 322

COMMUNIS; COMMUNE

gemeen; het gemeen

common, general, ordinary, everyday; collective body

III/7, 10, 12, 15, 23, 24, 27, 47, 53, 61, 64, 74, 80, 88, 99, 100, 102–4, 107, 111, 115, 117, 118, 129, 135, 138, 156, 162, 167, 168, 172, 177, 179, 194, 195, 205, 207, 210, 213, 215, 216, 229, 230, 242, 245, 247, 274, 276, 281–86, 288, 291, 292, 294, 296–99, 304, 308–12, 315, 319, 323, 329, 332, 333, 344, 346, 347–49, 352, 353, 355, 357, 359

IV/211, 228, 239, 251, 259, 260, 262, 275, 278, 281, 284, 286, 288, 315, 318, 321

CONATUS; CONARI

poging; pogen

striving; to strive, to try

III/277, 278, 279, 290, 291

IV/266

CONCEDERE

toestaan

concede, admit, grant, permit, allow, yield

III/7, 11, 12, 18, 31, 35, 36, 38, 39, 53, 58, 66, 74, 76, 80, 88, 104, 115, 135, 139, 147–49, 153, 155, 159, 170, 173, 180, 182, 183, 189, 191, 195, 198, 201, 203, 214, 216–18, 220, 225, 226, 228, 235, 236, 238, 240, 243, 245–47, 282, 285, 287, 288, 303, 306, 307, 312, 315, 329, 332, 337, 345, 346

IV/212, 217, 225, 226, 236, 242, 251, 252, 254, 259, 260, 262, 267, 276, 284, 300, 303, 308, 310, 317, 318, 327

CONCILIUM

raad, raadsvergadering, vergadering council, deliberation

III/101, 111, 144, 150, 164, 209–11, 222, 226, 242, 282, 292, 294, 301–5, 307, 309–13, 325, 326, 328–31, 333–35, 339, 340, 342, 344, 346–52, 354, 355, 358, 359

IV/175

CONCORDIA; CONCORDITER

eendracht; eendrachtelijk

harmony; harmoniously

III/179, 182, 194, 219, 224, 245, 246, 274, 288, 295–98, 311, 360

IV/242, 256, 259

CONDITIO; CONDITOR; CONDERE

voorwaarde, lijding, gewoonte, aard, gesteldheid, stand, staat; stichter; bouwen, maken

condition, character, term, provision, position, state; author, founder; establish, make, found, originate

III/7, 27, 31, 40, 49, 55, 62, 122, 128, 210, 211, 217, 218, 220, 222, 225, 226, 241, 244, 246, 274, 276, 290–92, 294, 306–8, 319, 321, 326–28, 331, 334, 336, 342–44, 346–49, 351, 354, 355, 359

IV/208, 211, 252, 293, 295, 297, 302, 317

CONFIRMARE

bevestigen, versterken

to confirm, prove, strengthen (the authority of)

III/10, 20, 31, 32, 53, 65, 67, 69, 72, 73, 76, 77, 87, 90, 92, 120, 126, 129, 146, 147, 152, 153, 155–57, 159, 163, 167, 173, 176, 177, 186, 187, 198, 210, 211, 219, 227, 228, 233, 234, 242

IV/251, 258, 282, 298

CONFUSIO; CONFUNDERE; CONFUSUS; CONFUSE

verwarring; verwarren; verward; verwardelijk

confusion; to confuse; confused; confusedly

III/6, 29, 32, 35, 82, 84, 92, 100, 102, 105, 133, 148, 173, 188, 198, 237, 238, 278, 357, 358

IV/170, 180, 252, 255, 281, 287, 304, 305, 323, 324

CONSENSUS; CONSENTIRE; CONSENTANEUS

overeenkoming, toestemming; overeenkomen; die . . . overeenkomen

consent, agreement; to be in harmony; consistent, in agreement (with)

III/40, 43, 65, 70, 74, 94, 101, 122, 124, 173, 178, 205, 230, 282, 321, 356

IV/170, 171, 176, 282, 285, 286, 321

CONSERVATIO; CONSERVARE

behoudenis, bescherming; bewaren, behouden

preservation; to preserve

III/6, 12, 25, 46, 47, 53, 56, 57, 61, 68–70, 73, 83, 116, 190, 192, 193, 195–97, 199, 200, 203, 205, 206, 222, 232, 233, 235, 242, 247, 276–79, 289, 291, 295–97, 306, 309, 314, 321, 323, 326, 329, 342, 346, 348, 354, 356, 357

IV/218, 239, 288, 289, 292, 296–98, 319

CONSILIUM; CONSULTATIO; CONSULERE

berading, raad; beraden; zorgen

plan, advice, policy, judgment, prudence, counsel, council, advisors; consultation, consulting; counsellor; to plan, consult, consider, look after, consider the interests of, take care of, deliberate, ask advice

III/5, 6, 22, 24, 68, 131, 137, 150, 154, 183, 194, 195, 197, 199, 202, 204–7, 209, 210, 213, 220, 231, 233, 238, 240, 273, 274, 285, 289, 290, 297, 298, 301, 303, 308–10, 312–16, 320, 325, 329, 336, 340, 341, 344, 346, 352, 353

IV/164, 165, 168, 186, 187, 248, 282, 284, 291, 296, 299, 329, 330

CONSTANTIA; CONSTANS; CONSTANTER; INCONSTANTIA; INCONSTANS

standvastigheid; standvastig, bestandig, volstandig; standvastig, volstandiglijk; onstandvastigheid; ongestadig, onbestandig

constancy; constant, stable; steadfastly, constantly; inconstancy; inconstant

III/6, 9, 12, 27, 29, 37, 47, 48, 54, 59, 62, 66, 67, 68, 82, 144, 152, 173, 196, 200, 203, 215, 217, 224, 225, 282–84, 286, 295, 296, 308, 320

IV/177, 189, 259, 264, 267, 318, 321, 322

CONSTARE

blijken, bestaan

to be evident, established, clear, show, known from, consist of, be made up of, depend on

III/9, 17, 29, 30, 31, 34, 40–42, 80, 81, 114, 115, 119, 164, 166, 182, 186, 204, 297

IV/188, 242, 261, 270, 275, 281

CONTEMPTUS, CONTEMPTIO; CONTEMNERE; CONTEMTOR

verachting; verachten; verachter

contempt, scorn; to disdain, hold s.o. in disdain, scorn; one who disdains, despises

III/8, 9, 27, 43, 97, 103, 148, 158, 177, 187, 196, 202, 203, 223, 226, 293, 295, 320, 343

IV/219, 229

CONTINGENTIA; CONTINGERE; CONTINGENS

gebeurlijkheid; gebeuren; gebeurlijk contingency; to happen; contingent

III/5, 33, 35–37, 40, 76, 81–83, 87, 92, 95, 110, 130, 133, 137, 140, 164, 166, 191, 194, 229, 231, 236, 237, 278, 343, 353

IV/211, 312

CONTRACTUS; CONTRAHERE

verdrag; verdrag maken

contract, agreement; to contract, agree, enter into an agreement, conclude, reduce

III/196–98, 200, 210, 290, 291, 294, 306

IV/266

CONTRADICTIO; CONTRADICERE

tegenzeg(ge)lijkheid; tegenspreken

contradiction; to contradict

III/40, 63, 139, 143, 147, 149, 184, 187, 281

IV/182, 184, 236, 243, 245, 250, 251, 256, 257, 260, 261, 263, 267, 283, 285, 294, 298, 304

CONTROVERSIA

geschil (en tegenstribbeling)

controversy, dispute

III/7, 9, 104, 144, 150, 165, 177, 237, 244, 246, 309, 317

IV/168, 207, 209, 212, 256, 258, 260, 262

CONTUMACIA; CONTUMAX

hardnekkigheid, weerspannigheid; stijfzinnig

obstinacy, stubbornness; obstinate, stubborn, stiffnecked

III/12, 33, 43, 48, 53, 75, 78, 94, 153, 168, 172, 174, 176, 179, 180, 217, 219, 243, 295

CONVENIRE

overeenkomen

agree, make an agreement, be compatible with, meet, be applicable to, converge

III/10, 16, 18, 28, 29, 42, 66, 68, 83, 84, 88, 98, 100, 103, 104, 113–15, 133, 134, 138, 140, 147, 148, 156, 157, 166, 172, 175, 185, 186, 194, 201, 213, 245, 274, 281, 290, 297, 304, 309, 314, 321, 326, 327, 334, 340, 341, 347, 348, 353, 354, 357

IV/166, 167, 169, 170, 173, 184, 194, 208, 210, 211, 240, 244, 251, 253, 257, 259, 270, 278, 283, 284, 288, 295, 299, 310

CORPUS; CORPOREUS; CORPORALITER; INCORPOREUS

lichaam; lichamelijk; op een lichamelijke wijze; onlichamelijk

body, corpus; corporeal; corporeally; incorporeal

III/8, 16, 18–21, 25, 26, 28, 30, 32, 33, 46, 47, 49, 57, 63, 69–71, 76, 93, 101, 113, 114, 181, 205, 234, 241, 278, 280, 282, 284–87, 292, 302, 306, 311, 331, 352

IV/172–74, 177, 188, 217, 240, 253, 255, 267, 268, 277, 279, 284, 292–94, 297, 298, 307, 313, 326–34

CORRUPTIO; CORRUMPERE; CORRUPTUS; INCORRUPTUS

bederf; bederven; bedorven; onbedorven corruption; to corrupt; corrupt; uncorrupted, without corruption

III/8, 10, 105, 106, 123, 134, 135, 148, 149, 158, 160–62, 165, 166, 180, 182, 183, 187, 203, 222–24, 242, 243, 247, 304, 311–13, 316, 317, 339, 341

IV/213, 288, 297, 323

CREATIO; CREARE; CREATURA; RES CREATA

schepping; scheppen, verkiezen; schepsel; een geschapen ding

creation; to create, appoint; creature; created thing

III/18, 19, 25, 30, 39, 64, 68, 81–83, 113, 169, 217, 276–78, 286, 289, 296, 321, 331, 339, 347, 348, 350, 353, 354

IV/217, 222, 242, 246, 247, 251–53, 255, 259, 262, 266, 275, 277, 284, 289, 298, 310, 311, 329, 330

CREDERE; CREDULITAS; CREDIBILITAS

geloven, vertrouwen; lichtgelovigheid; geloofwaardigheid

believe, think, trust, entrust, lend (money); credulity, trustingness; credibility

III/5, 6, 8, 9, 19, 23, 25, 30–33, 35–43, 45, 50, 51, 54, 56, 61, 62, 78, 83, 86, 87, 90–94, 100, 101, 113, 114, 128, 133, 135, 136, 139, 150, 164, 166, 169, 170, 172, 174, 177, 178, 181, 185–87, 202, 204, 206, 207, 214, 215, 219, 240, 244, 246, 273, 274, 277, 287, 290, 292, 297, 298, 307, 309, 311, 314–16, 321, 348, 356

IV/178, 186, 196, 222, 226, 242, 247, 249, 252, 256, 261, 266, 282, 283, 285, 286, 288, 293, 295, 298, 305, 314, 315, 319, 320, 323, 328, 333

CULPA; CULPARE; CULPABILIS

schuld, misdrijf, vergelding; beschuldigen; beschuldiglijk

fault, guilt; to blame; culpable

III/108, 273, 353, 357

IV/207, 220, 309, 310

CULTUS; COLERE

dienst, oeffening, toestelling; eren, dienen

(form of) worship, pursuit, practice, cultivation, ceremony, dress, refinement, adornment; to worship, practise, cultivate, pursue, cherish

III/7, 8, 10, 19, 38–41, 45, 49, 55, 68, 72, 96, 106, 112, 146, 152, 160, 161, 177, 191, 198, 205, 212, 214–19, 226, 228, 229, 232, 233, 238, 243, 275, 281, 283, 288, 289, 296, 307, 311, 319, 329, 345

IV/207, 209, 212–18, 226, 287, 295, 311

CUPIDITAS, CUPIDO; CUPERE; CUPIDUS; CUPIDE

lust, begeerte; natrachten; begerig, gierig; met vermaak

desire; to desire; desirous, ambitious, greedy; eagerly

III/5, 11, 17, 18, 46, 61, 73, 74, 81, 97, 157, 170, 171, 181, 190–92, 201, 203, 216, 218, 277, 278, 283, 297, 323, 324, 344, 351, 353–57

IV/166, 223, 228, 267, 305, 326, 327

CURA; CURARE

zorg; zorg dragen, zich bemoeien, bezorgd zijn

care, concern, responsibility; to care for or about, take care, look after, attend to, heed, be concerned to/about, devote oneself to

III/12, 16, 19, 28, 29, 38, 40, 41, 51, 60, 71, 74, 75, 77, 88, 97, 102, 104, 126, 157, 189, 210, 212, 218, 224, 236, 246, 247, 274, 275, 281, 282, 289, 295, 302, 303, 311, 329, 331, 332, 333, 338, 343

IV/215, 218, 231, 234, 235, 273, 286, 292, 297, 302, 335

DAMNUM; DAMNARE

kwaad, nadeel, schade; veroordelen

harm, loss, expense; to condemn, discredit

III/7, 9, 31, 42, 63, 70, 71, 74, 75, 87, 104, 120, 168, 176, 180, 186–88, 191, 192, 196–98, 199, 201, 203, 207, 210, 214–16, 226, 232, 236, 238, 241, 243, 244, 246, 280, 286, 288, 290, 305, 321, 322, 334, 355

IV/210, 218, 236, 272, 288, 290, 291, 323

DECRETUM, DECRETALE; DECERNERE; DECRETARE

besluit, besluiting, zinnelijkheid; besluiten decree, decision; to decree, decide; make religious decrees

III/5, 11, 15, 22, 25, 38, 42, 46, 54, 59, 63, 65, 76, 83, 85, 96, 150, 152, 153, 162, 164, 165, 184, 192, 195, 199, 200–202, 209, 211, 222, 223, 225, 228–39, 241, 242, 245, 247, 282–86, 289, 291, 292, 294, 296, 302, 303, 307–10, 333, 335, 338, 339, 348, 350, 356

IV/208, 211, 217, 224, 265–68

liberum decretum

free decision, decree, will

III/356

IV/265–68

DEDUCTIO; DEDUCERE

afleiding; afleiden, betogen

deduction; to deduce, [add: show], draw (a conclusion), develop, reduce (a prop. to absurdity)

III/21, 30, 62, 67, 68, 76, 77, 98, 105, 107, 112, 114, 130, 141, 153, 167, 175, 244, 274, 276, 308, 319, 347, 353

IV/183, 221, 254, 268, 270, 271, 278, 279, 333–35

DEFECTUS; DEFECTIO; DEFICERE; DEFICIENS

gebrek; afval; afvallen; afgevallen

defect, lack; defection; to defect, fail (in one’s duty to, loyalty to); a defector

III/6, 55, 56, 63, 65, 73, 107, 108, 112, 137, 152, 206, 210, 213–15, 217–19, 228, 293, 339, 346, 359

IV/166, 182, 185, 256, 260, 269

DEFENSOR; DEFENDERE

verdediger; verdedigen

defender; to defend, protect, preserve, maintain, observe

III/6, 7, 11, 37, 44, 57, 71, 97, 98, 104, 118, 134, 161, 165, 176, 180, 182, 191, 193–96, 200, 205, 222, 226–28, 241, 244, 275, 280, 285, 295, 297, 299, 301, 309–12, 316, 327, 333, 337, 340, 344, 355, 357

IV/168, 242, 258, 261, 307, 308, 321

DEFINITIO; DEFINIRE

bepaling; bepalen

definition; to define

III/15, 27n, 57–59, 77, 98, 99, 115, 167, 171, 175, 176, 193, 195, 276, 277, 282, 288, 293, 296, 314, 318

IV/179–82, 184, 265, 266, 268–71, 277, 284, 333–35

DELIRIUM; DELIRARE

buitenspoorigheid; spoorlos zijn

delusion; to rave, be insane, be mad

III/5, 6, 9, 98, 134, 186, 189, 287

IV/250, 266

DEMOCRATIA; DEMOCRATICUS

volksheerschappij, volksbestiering; volkelijk

democracy; democratic

III/193, 194, 195, 206, 230, 239, 245, 282, 284, 298, 310, 323, 329, 330, 358, 359

DEMONSTRATIO; DEMONSTRARE

betoging; betogen, tonen

demonstration; to demonstrate

III/7, 10, 11, 30, 33, 78, 82, 84, 91, 94, 99, 105, 111–15, 126, 150, 157, 159, 165, 167, 168, 170, 174, 175, 185–87, 230, 232, 235, 272, 274–76, 284, 291, 307, 314, 319

IV/173, 174, 179–81, 183, 184, 189, 195, 220, 221, 260, 274, 278, 279, 288, 296–98, 302, 315, 323, 324, 331, 334

DETERMINARE; DETERMINATUS

bepalen; bepaald, eindig

to determine, settle, make determinate, limit, set limits to, define; [add: limited], determinate, definite

III/9, 10, 25, 46, 57, 58, 75, 81, 82, 85, 103, 109, 110, 137, 140, 168, 173–75, 177, 184, 185, 189–91, 193, 195, 196, 216, 222, 229, 232, 235, 237, 240, 242, 243, 277–81, 285, 287, 291, 298, 323–26, 329, 332, 335, 339, 351, 355

IV/172, 177, 181, 184–86, 240, 259, 263–66, 269, 284, 288, 296, 315

DEUS

God

God

III/3, 5, 7, 8, 10, 15–21, 23–31, 33–44, 45, 46, 47–50, 52–55, 59, 60, 62–65, 71, 77–89, 93–96, 99, 101, 102, 113, 114, 120, 122, 125, 127, 135, 144, 150–54, 158, 160–65, 167–71, 173, 175, 177, 178, 179, 181, 183, 184, 186, 198–200, 204–16, 221–23, 225, 230, 231, 233, 239, 243, 247, 277–79, 282–84, 288, 289, 308, 346

IV/180, 182, 185, 186, 221, 259, 260, 261, 271, 283, 293, 295–97, 308, 310, 312, 316, 319, 328, 333, 335

idea Dei (obj. gen.), idea de Deo; imago Dei

idea of God; image of God

III/16, 19, 20, 30, 60, 61, 67, 84, 87, 88

IV/261

mandatum, ordo, praeceptum Dei (divinum)

God’s (divine) command, order, precept

III/38, 52, 89, 90, 122, 152–54, 156, 174, 176, 198, 205, 206, 208, 210, 229, 231–33

mens Dei

God’s mind

III/25, 26, 27, 28, 32, 33, 52, 163

natura Dei, divina

nature of God

III/15, 16, 18, 23, 38, 40, 62–66, 68, 82–84, 162, 167, 171, 172, 176

IV/179, 180, 185, 186, 208, 211, 212, 221–23, 251, 252, 255, 260, 297, 311, 312

potentia Dei

power of God

III/23, 24, 26, 28, 38, 43, 45, 46, 81, 83, 85, 189, 198, 205, 206, 276, 277

IV/211, 325, 328

potestas Dei

'power of God

III/23, 198, 284

IV/312, 325, 326

providentia Dei

providence of God

III/10, 20, 81, 82, 84, 86–89, 144, 229

IV/168, 289

regnum Dei, divinum, regnum coelorum, coeleste

the kingdom of God, of heaven, God’s kingship, divine kingdom

III/65, 72, 103, 206, 214, 222, 228–31

verbum Dei

word of God, God’s word

III/10, 17, 18, 89, 97, 138, 143, 158, 159, 160, 161, 162, 163, 164, 182, 185, 186, 236

IV/218, 282, 288, 294, 321, 323

voluntas Dei

will of God

III/18, 25, 52, 62, 63, 65, 70, 81–83, 85, 86, 89, 198, 199

IV/259

DEVOTIO; DEVOVERE; DEVOTE

aandacht (tot God, in haar Godsdienst), godsdienst(igheid), godvruchtigheid; —; aandachtelijk

devotion; to destine; in a spirit of devotion

III/10, 17, 72, 73, 75, 78, 79, 81, 90, 91, 94, 135, 148, 160, 161, 166, 177, 215, 216, 239, 244

IV/330

DIGNITAS; DIGNARI; DIGNUS; INDIGNUS

waardigheid, waarheid, staat, trap van waardigheid; believen; waardig; onwaardig

dignity, status, position conferring status, excellence, rank; to think fit, deign; worthy, deserving; unworthy

III/8, 16, 38, 41, 51, 56, 72, 102, 142, 214, 215, 220, 221, 224–26, 300, 312, 321, 324, 330, 337, 346

IV/165, 175, 177, 178, 235, 236, 265, 276, 284, 289, 290, 293, 295, 303, 327

DIRECTIO; DIRIGERE

besturing; schikken, sturen, besturen, regeren

direction, guidance, course, governance; to direct, guide, apply

III/33, 38, 47, 61, 65, 77, 82, 88, 117, 177, 178, 190, 191, 194, 197, 200, 202, 203, 231, 274, 279, 284, 287, 292, 295, 344, 351

IV/188, 264, 288, 289, 294, 325

DIVINITAS; DIVINUS; DIVINITUS

Goddelijkheid; goddelijk; als van Gods wegen

divinity; divine, of God, religious; in the name of God, by divine agency

III/5, 9, 15, 23, 24, 37, 38, 44, 53, 68, 75, 81, 82, 97–99, 112, 113, 121, 122, 150, 155, 158, 160, 161, 162, 165, 169, 172, 173, 175, 180, 182, 198–200, 201, 206, 207, 213, 217–20, 226, 229–32, 236, 238, 239, 247, 273, 314

IV/214, 215, 217, 255, 256, 272, 284, 288, 312

divinitas Scripturae

divinity of Scripture

III/9, 98, 99, 130, 162, 165

DIVISIO; DIVIDERE; DIVISIBILIS; INDIVISIBILIS

verdeling; delen; deelbaar; ondeelbaar division; to divide; divisible; indivisible

III/43, 72, 96, 107, 163, 193, 208, 210, 211, 223, 228, 235, 238, 285, 300, 306, 318, 324, 327, 338, 345, 349, 354

IV/182, 184, 192, 294

DIVITIAE; DIVES; DIS

rijkdom; rijk; rijk

wealth, money; rich person; wealthy

III/57, 67, 70, 196, 225, 246, 299, 314, 356, 359

IV/219, 228, 229

DOCTOR; DOCTUS; DOCTRINA, DOCUMENTUM; DOCERE

leraar; geleerd; lering (en onderwijzing), leerstuk (en bewijs); leren, onderwijzen teacher, learned person; learned; teaching, lesson, doctrine; to teach, show

III/7–10, 15, 16, 18, 28–31, 35, 37, 38, 39, 41–43, 44, 47, 50, 54–56, 59, 62, 64–73, 77–79, 87, 89–91, 96–99, 101–7, 112–15, 126, 141, 151, 152, 155–58, 160, 163–68, 172–74, 178–81, 183, 185, 186, 190, 198, 203, 206, 213, 215, 222, 225, 226, 229, 233, 235, 237, 240, 241, 244, 246, 247, 275, 291, 319, 346

IV/165, 168, 175, 189, 209, 210–12, 214, 216–19, 224–26, 228, 236, 281–83, 285, 287–90, 293, 295, 296, 298, 299, 308, 314, 315, 320, 328

DOGMA; DOGMATIZARE; DOGMATICUS; DOGMATICE

leerstuk, regel; leren en onderwijzen; onderwijzer; op een onderwijzende wijze doctrine, authoritative judgment, teaching; to propound a doctrine; dogmatist; as doctrine

III/95, 152, 153, 158, 174–81, 184, 185, 206, 221, 237, 238

IV/210, 214, 217, 218, 224, 273, 282, 296, 298, 299

DOLUS

bedrog

deception, (evil) intent (to deceive), (w. malus) bad faith

III/6, 186, 190–92, 193, 196, 239, 241, 243, 246, 279, 290, 342

DOMINUS; DOMINATOR; DOMINIUM, DOMINATIO; DOMINARI

heerschappij, heer; heerscher; heerschappij; heersen

lord, master, mister; ruler; dominion, mastery, command, domain; to rule, be the master, to act as a despot, rule despotically, dominate

III/19, 22, 27, 53, 66, 76, 87, 177, 195, 207, 209, 216, 226, 240, 278, 296, 298, 312, 313, 315, 318–20, 322, 332, 334, 359

IV/234, 283, 291

DONUM

gave

gift

III/15, 29, 41, 44, 45, 47, 50, 53, 78, 112, 113, 156, 162, 168, 170, 182

DUBITATIO; DUBITARE; DUBIUS; INDUBITATUS

twijfel(ing); twijfelen; twijfelachtig; ontwijfelbaar

doubt; to doubt, raise the question, wonder, hesitate; doubtful; indubitable

III/5, 7, 8, 20, 28, 31, 32, 34, 38, 39, 50, 51, 57, 59, 84–87, 90, 102, 105, 108, 109, 111, 112, 114, 128, 133, 135, 136, 139, 140, 142, 144, 148, 151, 157, 165, 166, 169, 177, 182, 187, 188, 199, 231, 274, 278,

IV/166, 174, 186, 189, 243, 245, 256, 259, 260, 262, 269, 277, 278, 288, 289, 294, 308, 311, 317, 327, 331, 340

DURATIO; DURARE; DURABILE

during; duren; geduurzaamheid

duration; to last, endure; durable

III/6, 18, 74, 215, 221, 224, 280

IV/181, 185, 310

DUX; DUCTUS (RATIONIS); DUCERE

beleider, veldoverst, krijgsovererst, hertog; beleid (van de reden); leiden

leader, commander, officer, general, duke; guidance (of reason); to lead, guide, move, bring, take, think

III/20, 21, 55, 72, 80, 87, 106, 130, 131, 188, 190, 192–95, 202, 203, 212, 214, 219, 231, 274, 275, 277, 278, 280–83, 285–88, 291, 296, 297, 300, 305, 308, 310, 312, 314, 315, 326–28, 331, 334, 337, 348, 349, 356, 359

IV/165, 218, 223, 224, 282, 288, 295, 296, 312, 318, 323

ECCLESIA; ECCLESIASTICUS

kerk; kerkelijk

church, place of worship; ecclesiastic

III/8, 9, 21, 76, 79, 114, 157, 167, 175, 177, 228, 234–37, 244, 321, 345

IV/216, 280, 282, 283, 286–88, 290, 291, 293, 295, 296, 309, 316, 317, 321–24

EFFUGIUM; EFFUGERE

uitvlucht; ontvluchten, overtreffen escape; to escape

III/68, 159, 172, 198, 204, 310

ELECTIO; ELECTUS; ELIGERE

verkiezing; verkiezen; verkiezen, uitverkoren

choice, election, selection; chosen people, the elect; to choose, elect, select

III/9, 31, 33, 39, 44–50, 53–57, 69, 110, 120, 126, 127, 137, 142, 150, 157, 164, 173, 192, 194, 207–12, 218–20, 222, 225–27, 234, 235, 238, 247, 256, 279, 286, 292, 300–307, 309–13, 315, 318, 321–24, 327, 328, 330–39, 341–45, 348–52, 358, 359

IV/243, 278

libera electio

free choice

III/33, 358

IV/256

ENS; ESSE (AS A NOUN, SOMETIMES WITH GREEK DEF. ART. TO)

wezen; ’t wezen

being; being

III/38, 39, 40, 77, 93, 177, 287

IV/179, 181–86, 253, 256, 271, 275, 278, 335

esse in se; inesse

to be in itself; to be in, be associated with

IV/161, 179, 198, 291, 332

perseverare in suo esse, conservare se, suum esse

persevere in one’s being, preserve one’s being

III/46, 73, 189, 190, 196, 206, 276–79, 289, 291, 295, 309, 346

quantum in se est

as far as it can by its own power

III/189, 190, 191, 278, 279

ERROR; ERRARE

doling, misslag; dolen

error; to err, be mistaken

III/12, 29, 41, 97, 98, 102, 105, 114, 137, 147–50, 165, 171, 176, 180, 181, 185, 199, 247, 280, 298, 327

IV/166, 174, 177, 209, 210, 213, 215, 269, 270, 281, 285, 290, 292, 294, 298, 305, 307, 323

ESSENTIA; ESSENTIALIS; ESSENTIALITER

wezenheid; wezenlijk; wezenlijk

essence; essential; essentially

III/63, 178, 276, 296

IV/180, 186, 212, 264, 275, 277, 278, 284, 288, 303, 305, 313, 334

essentia Dei

essence of God

III/18, 20, 60, 82–85, 169, 179

IV/212, 240, 302, 333, 335

EVIDENTER, EVIDENTISSIME

klaar(blijke)lijk, zeer klaarlijk

clearly, with utmost clarity

III/42, 54, 56, 78, 96, 104, 109, 111, 114, 118, 123, 125, 126, 129, 144, 147, 148, 159, 160, 165, 168, 169, 174, 177, 187, 211, 231, 233, 238, 240

IV/168, 228

EXCOGITARE; EXCOGITATIO

bedenken; uitvinding

to think of, think up, design, invent, imagine, devise, find, contrive; discovery

III/7, 8, 37, 97, 166, 173, 203, 205, 208, 214, 216, 226, 245, 305, 315, 336, 341, 350, 356

IV/209, 228, 261, 281

EXCOMMUNICARE

bannen

to excommunicate

III/222, 228, 235

EXCUSARE; EXCUSABILIS

verontschuldigen; verontschuldiging hebben

to excuse; excusable

III/37, 68, 108, 143, 147, 153, 166, 187, 285, 316

IV/168, 264, 268, 274, 286, 310, 325, 327, 329

EXEMPLAR

afscrift

pattern, model, copy, example

III/20, 109, 110, 129, 140, 149, 151, 171, 177, 178

IV/165, 233, 234, 273, 305, 335

EXEMPLUM

voorbeeld

example, model, precedent, deterrent, case

III/6, 20, 57, 76, 82, 84, 88, 91, 94, 100, 104, 105, 108, 109, 115, 116, 127, 139, 141, 160, 171, 173, 183, 200, 210, 211, 220, 223, 225–28, 233–35, 244–47, 289, 297, 307, 314, 318, 321, 328, 331, 343, 352, 357

IV/213, 215, 228, 257, 263, 265, 267, 276, 278, 284, 290, 291, 294, 295, 298, 314, 328, 335

EXISTENTIA; EXISTERE

wezenlijkheid; wezenlijk to zijn

existence; to exist

III/38, 58, 60, 63, 81, 82, 84–86, 102, 165, 177, 179, 189, 191, 241, 276, 277, 279, 282, 287

IV/168, 172, 177, 179, 180, 185, 197, 198, 239, 240, 242, 243, 246, 249, 251–54, 257, 265, 266, 268, 269, 275, 277, 278, 284, 286, 313, 331–33, 335

existentia Dei

existence of God

III/10, 18, 19, 63, 81, 82, 84–86, 177, 179

IV/168, 183, 185, 197, 198, 240, 313

existentia necessaria

necessary existence

IV/179–84

EXPERIENTIA; EXPERIRI

ervarenheid, ondervinding; beproeven, bevinden

experience; to experience, to learn from, know by experience, to try, to test

III/16, 29, 47, 56, 70, 76, 77, 87, 92, 118, 153, 167, 196, 199–203, 205, 215, 231, 232, 239, 244, 246, 273, 274, 278, 298, 301, 312, 321, 336, 359

IV/174, 175, 197, 202–4, 236, 244, 247, 262, 265–67, 269, 282, 284, 285, 288, 290, 297, 305, 313, 321, 327

EXPERIMENTUM

ondervinding

experiment

IV/164, 166, 167, 169, 174, 177, 205

EXPLICATIO; EXPLICARE

uitlegging; verklaren

explanation; to explain, display, declare, smooth out

III/16, 34, 36, 58, 84, 85, 91, 97, 101, 103–5, 108, 113–17, 122, 123, 127, 128, 132, 135, 148, 164, 167, 171, 175, 181–83, 208, 277, 308, 325

IV/166, 168, 174a, 183

EXPRIMERE; EXPRESSUS; EXPRESSE

uitdrukken; uitgedrukt; uitdrukkelijk to express, to make explicit; explicit; explicitly, expressly

III/10, 11, 17, 18, 22, 23, 26, 28, 38, 51, 55, 56, 60, 65, 67, 86, 95, 102, 106, 108, 111, 115, 128, 137, 147, 151, 153, 154, 163, 170, 171, 175, 176, 181–83, 186, 188, 192, 193, 197–200, 205, 206, 210, 211, 221, 228, 229, 231, 233, 242, 247, 285, 287, 306, 307, 323, 326, 330, 333, 359

IV/179, 182, 184–86, 221, 223, 251, 253, 269–71, 277–80, 283, 305, 306, 309, 316, 334

EXTENSIO

Uitgestrektheid

extension, extent

IV/184–86, 268, 275–79, 331–34

FACIES

gedaante

face, aspect, form

III/18, 20, 21, 40, 121, 204, 297, 318

facies totius universi (naturae)

face of the whole universe (of the whole of nature)

IV/276, 278

FACTUM

daad, bedrijf

deed, what someone has done, action, fact

III/7, 54, 89, 91, 96, 116, 119, 121, 166, 169, 197, 218, 222, 226, 227, 242, 245, 285, 292, 328, 352, 353

IV/251, 252, 255, 259

FALSUS; FALSITAS; FALSIFICARE; FALSO SIMILE

false, mistaken; falsity, something false; falsify; improbable

III/8, 31, 43, 58, 87, 97, 105, 112, 114, 115, 137, 146, 152, 159–61, 172, 176, 182–86, 188, 192, 204, 225, 239, 243, 244, 278

IV/166, 167, 174, 189, 209, 217, 220, 221, 223–25, 260–62, 269, 281–83, 289, 290, 294, 308, 320, 324, 332

FAMA; INFAMIA; INFAMIS

gerucht, achting; laster en schande;

(formidable, good) reputation; disgrace; notorious, disreputable

III/60, 70, 124, 204, 224, 242, 343, 346, 358, 300, 330, 360

IV/262, 300

FAMILIA; PATERFAMILIAS

geslacht; huis vader

family (generally in the TTP), clan (TP); head of a family

III/55, 130, 141, 148, 211, 234, 300–304, 305, 312, 313, 327, 329, 330, 333, 340

FAS; NEFAS; NEFARIUS

geoorlofd; schelmstuk, ongeoorloofd, niet geoorlofd; ondeugend mensch

right, proper, permissible, not sacrilegious; sacrilege, wrong, impermissible; wicked (man)

III/5, 7, 161, 203, 207, 226, 235

IV/166, 212, 310, 311

FATUM; FATALIS

noodlot, noodzaaklijkheid, uitgang; schadelijk, droevig

fate, outcome, decree; destructive, fatal, fateful

III/24, 58, 131, 137, 140, 162, 204, 227, 323, 353, 357

IV/208, 210, 211, 218, 221–23, 267, 310–12, 318, 324, 325

FELICITAS; FELIX; FELICITER

geluk, voorspoed; gelukkig; voorspoedig happiness, prosperity, good fortune; happy, fortunate, successful; successfully, fortunately, auspiciously

III/5, 7, 44, 45, 47–49, 60, 67–71, 88, 126, 144, 158, 240, 243, 274, 310, 318, 320, 323, 359

IV/207, 213, 215, 220, 254, 272, 273, 290, 291, 296, 304

FIDES; FIDERE; FIDELIS; FIDUS; INFIDELITAS; INFIDELIS

geloof, trouw (en oprechtigheid), belofte; vertrouwn; gelovig; getrouw; ongelovigheid; ongelovig

faith, belief, good faith, trust, assurance, word, loyalty, allegiance; to trust; faithful, trustworthy; loyal; lacking faith; nonbeliever

III/8–11, 15, 16, 30, 56, 61, 65, 69, 76, 78–80, 87, 91, 96, 99, 102, 108, 111–13, 118, 120, 142, 151, 154, 156, 157, 159, 166–71, 173, 174, 175, 176, 178, 179, 180, 182, 184, 186, 187, 192, 193, 196, 197, 199, 200, 203, 205, 210–12, 214, 219, 222, 224, 233, 242, 243, 245, 246, [add: 247], 275, 280, 290, 291, 297, 298, 312, 314, 315, 321, 322, 356, 357

IV/168, 178, 214, 215, 228, 242, 243, 245, 249, 258, 262, 284, 286–88, 291, 295–97, 299, 303, 308, 313, 314, 320, 322, 328

fides catholica sive universalis

catholic or universal faith

III/174, 177

IV/285, 289, 318

FINGERE; AFFINGERE; FIGMENTUM; FICTUS

verdichten; opdichten, toepassen, toeschrijven; verdichtzel; verdicht

to feign, to invent, to suppose, to indulge in hypotheses, to hypothesize, to make up; to ascribe (fictitiously), to ascribe an invention; invention; fictitious

III/5, 9, 19, 20, 28, 34, 36, 53, 65, 80, 82, 93, 96–98, 134, 135, 140, 147, 148, 150, 159, 166, 180, 184, 199, 210

IV/171, 182, 186, 189, 211, 212, 218, 220, 228, 245, 266, 267, 269, 297, 313

FINIS; CAUSA FINALIS

eind; eind oorzaak

end, purpose; final cause

III/42, 48, 58–62, [add: 82], 121, 156, 168, 179, 185, 194, 196, 203, 205, 220, 224, 240, 241, 295, 296, 316, 342, 350

IV/175, 209, 217, 272, 287, 288, 295, 305, 325

FIXUS; BONA FIXA

vast (en bondig, en bestandig); vaste goederen

fixed, lasting, firmly established; immoveable goods, real property [change in proof]

III/45, 55, 82–84, 86, 95, 169, 191, 205, 290, 308, 311, 316

IV/188

FOEDUS; CONFOEDERATUS

verbond; bondgenoot (of verenigd)

covenant, alliance, agreement; ally, united

III/53, 55, 56, 159, 161, 163, 196, 197, 200, 209–11, 290, 291, 306, 315, 317, 323, 347

FORMA; FORMA SUBSTANTIALIS

vorm; zelfstandig vorm

form; substantial form

III/28, 221, 224, 227, 228, 297, 319, 321, 327, 330, 331, 341, 353–55, 358

IV/164, 168, 178, 208, 222, 224, 261, 268, 293, 312

FORTITUDO; FORTIS

sterkte, vroomheid; sterk

strength, strength of character; strong

III/22, 24, 193, 275, 280, 296, 298, 357, 360

IV/326, 327

FORTUNA; INFORTUNIUM; FORTUNATUS; FORTUITUS

geval, lot of geval, welvaren; ongeluk; voorspoedig; gevallig

fortune, good fortune, good luck, position, fate, wealth; misfortune; fortunate; chance

III/5, 6, 8, 41, 44, 45, 46, 47, 66, 68, 88, 101, 103, 115, 135, 144, 203, 212, 323, 324, 337, 345, 353–56, 359

IV/188, 247, 251, 252, 255, 259, 318

FRAUS; FRAUDARE

bedrog; leur stellen

fraud, intent to deceive; to cheat

III/186, 192, 203–5, 358

FUNDAMENTUM; FUNDARE; FUNDAMENTALIS

grond, grondvest, beginzel; steunen, stichten, grondvesten; grond

foundation, fundamental principle; to found; fundamental

III/9, 10, 11, 15, 21, 27n, 31, 47, 57, 64, 66, 68, 69, 73, 76, 95, 100, 102, 104–7, 114, 117, 118, 124, 135, 139, 150, 157, 158, 165, 173–77, 179, 186, 187, 189, 194–96, 231, 235, 240, 242, 276, 287, 295, 299, 302, 307, 308, 314, 340, 344, 346, 357

IV/190, 211, 221, 251, 252, 256, 281–83, 286, 287, 308, 311, 323, 330

fundamenta societas/imperii/civitatis/reipublicae

foundations of (a, the) society, state, etc.

III/60, 189, 195, 214, 240, 242, 299, 301, 307, 308, 319, 323, 325, 326, 334, 340, 344–46, 351, 353, 356

GENS; GENTILIS

volk, landaard; heiden

nation, people; pagan, gentile

III/7, 9, 39, 40, 48–51, 53, 55, 56, 69, 72, 114, 144, 153, 156, 158, 160, 167, 215, 217, 221, 321, 329, 331, 337, 341, 351, 356

IV/207, 213, 214, 218, 219, 226, 291

GLORIA; GLORIARI

roem; zich vermeten, zich beroemen

esteem, self-esteem, love of esteem, glory; to glory, pride oneself, boast

III/34, 44, 71, 80, 157, 187, 193, 171, 203, 213, 222, 224, 226, 245, 274, 275, 297, 310, 311, 315, 327, 344, 354, 356

IV/197, 291, 297, 309, 328

GRATIA; GRATUS

genade; aangenaam

grace, favor; pleasing

III/53, 110, 165, 168, 169, 177, 188, 213, 275, 312, 313, 323, 335, 343

IV/167, 212, 291, 292, 294, 297, 298

Dei gratia

God’s grace

III/26, 35, 41, 42, 55, 65, 151

HEBRAEUS; HEBRAIZARE; HEBRAIZANS; HEBRAISMUS; HEBRAICE

Hebreer; Hebreeusche spreekwijzen hebben; geen die hebben kennis van de Hebreeuwsche taal; een Hebreeusche spreekwijze; op de Hebreeusche wijze Hebrew; to express oneself in a Hebrew manner; Hebraist; Hebraism; in (proper) Hebrew

III/9, 10, 15, 17, 22, 24, 27, 38, 39, 44, 45, 48, 50, 52, 54, 55, 63, 66, 69–71, 73, 76, 88, 92, 93, 100, 110, 111, 116, 133, 136, 141, 161, 162, 169, 203, 205, 206, 209, 210, 213, 215, 217, 221, 222, 230, 231, 233, 235, 237

HIEROGLYPHICUM

verborgen vertoning, inbeelding, verbeelding

(obscure) symbol

III/20, 34, 105, 111n*

HISTORIA; HISTORICUS, HISTORIOGRAPHUS; HISTORICE

historie, geschiedenis; geschiedschrijver; op een wijze, die geheel volgens de orde der geschiedenis, op een geschiedenisser wijze

history, story, (historical) account, (historical) narrative; historical, historian; historiographer; historically, in an historical manner

III/19, 31, 35, 36, 43, 50, 61, 62, 66, 77–79, 89, 91, 92, 95, 99, 101, 105, 106, 109, 110, 119–25, 128–35, 140, 142–46, 148, 149, 156, 163, 164, 166, 167, 179, 184, 187, 203, 210, 212, 219, 224, 238, 278, 314, 315, 318, 331

IV/189, 197, 262, 286, 287, 290, 296, 324, 325, 330

historia, historicus Hebraeorum

geschiedenis, geschiedschrijver der Hebreen

history, historian of the Hebrews

III/128, 129, 203, 221, 222, 244

historia naturae

history of nature

III/92, 98, 102, 185

historia Scripturae

history of Scripture

III/98, 100–102, 104, 111, 117, 118, 185

HOMO; HUMANUS; INHUMANUS

mens; menselijk; onmenselijk

man; human, secular, civilized: devoid of human feeling, uncivilized

III/5, 6, 8, 10–12, 15, 16, 18, 20, 21, 25, 27n, 33, 34, 37, 38, 40–42, 44, 46–48, 58–62, 64, 66, 67, 69, 70, 73, 74, 77, 78, 80–82, 85–88, 91, 95, 97, 99, 112, 148, 156, 158, 161, 163, 164, 167–69, 171, 176–79, 182, 185, 186, 189–94, 198–202, 205, 213, 215, 218, 228, 229, 231, 240, 243, 244, 246, 247, 273–75, 277–79, 281, 283, 284, 286, 288, 289, 291, 293–98, 308, 311, 312, 314–17, 319, 322, 324–26, 328, 329, 342, 347, 351–53, 355–57, 359, 360

IV/165, 166, 168, 173, 174, 208–10, 213, 222, 236, 262, 263, 266–68, 272, 277, 278, 284, 285, 292, 294, 295, 308, 310, 315, 319, 325, 327–30

humana natura, natura hominum

human nature, nature of men

III/6, 15, 21, 27n, 46, 47, 58, 61, 64, 69, 73, 74, 88, 166, 191, 201, 244, 245, 273, 274, 276–78, 287, 291, 293, 294, 297, 308, 309

IV/166, 180, 252, 255, 309

HONESTUS; HONESTE; HONESTAS

eerlijk, oprecht; eerlijk; eerbaarheid honorable; honorably, respectably, [add: honestly]; decency

III/46, 77, 138, 140, 173, 176, 177, 212, 216, 244–47, 312, 317, 320, 326, 359

IV/318

HONOR

Eer, ambt

honor, public office

III/8, 19, 40, 56, 67, 70, 198, 208, 212, 218, 244, 293, 310, 313, 324, 327, 329, 334, 346, 354, 356, 357

IV/214, 217, 219, 228

HOSTILITAS; HOSTIS; HOSTILITER

vijandschap; vijand; vijandelijk

enmity; enemy; as enemies

III/8, 73, 121, 173, 190, 194, 196, 197, 201, 203, 204, 206, 210, 211, 213, 214, 224, 233, 240, 245, 281, 288, 289, 290, 293, 294, 299, 305, 306, 314, 315, 317, 320, 329, 346, 357

IV/258, 319, 321

HUMILITAS; HUMILIS

ontmoedigheid; nederig

humility; humble, abject

III/22, 121, 225, 319

IV/285, 289, 290, 323

HYPOTHESIS

onderstelling

hypothesis

III/131

IV/166, 168, 174, 176, 177, 180, 183, 184, 233, 252, 297, 314, 315

IDEA

denkbeeld

idea

III/6, 28, 30, 62, 67, 158, 284

IV/170, 188, 189, 199, 212, 240, 253, 257, 261, 269–71, 275, 277, 278, 280, 284, 302, 305, 320

IDEATUM

gedenkbeeld of gedachte

object

IV/174, 270, 277, 302, 305

IGNORANTIA; IGNORARE; IGNARUS

onwetendheid, onkunde; niet weten, niet kennen, onkundig zijn; onwetend, onkundig, dwaas

ignorance; not know, fail to know, be ignorant of, have no knowledge of, know nothing about, not be familiar with, fail to be aware of; ignorant, unknowing, foolish

III/5, 23, 27, 28, 30, 35–37, 39, 41–44, 47, 58, 65, 68, 71, 78, 79, 81, 84–86, 93, 95, 98, 106, 108, 109, 111, 114, 115, 123, 130, 134, 164, 168–70, 173, 175–79, 182, 185, 189–92, 197, 198, 204, 207, 245, 247, 277, 279, 282, 283, 291, 314, 320, 334, 337, 353

IV/166, 170, 208, 210, 211, 219, 224, 226, 227, 241, 251, 259, 261, 266, 267, 269, 289, 298, 307, 308, 310, 313, 324, 325, 328, 330

IMAGINATIO; IMAGO; IMAGINARI; IMAGINARIUS

inbeelding, verbeelding; beeld; inbeelden; inbeeldig, inbeeldelijk

imagination, way of imagining; image, appearance, portrait; to imagine; imaginary

III/5, 17–21, 27n, 28, 29, 30, 31–35, 38, 40, 48, 64, 81, 84, 85, 90–93, 111, 152, 153, 158, 159, 167, 171, 186, 317, 321, 356

IV/170, 189, 193, 243, 251, 253, 254, 261, 267, 284, 286, 313, 329

IMBECILLITAS; IMBECILLIS

zwakheid; zwak

weakness; weak

III/25, 34, 38, 40, 42, 65, 66, 79, 82, 138, 172, 224, 359

IV/315

IMPERIUM; IMPERATOR; IMPERARE

heerschappij, rijk, macht; veldoverste; gebieden

state, sovereign(ty), command, control, rule, authority, empire; ruler, commander, dominion; to command, rule

III/6, 7, 10, 11, 16, 41, 42, 47, 48, 49, 50, 54–59, 63, 64, 66, 68–76, 81, 82, 91–94, 96, 116, 122n, 125, 126, 128, 132, 152, 166, 178, 182, 184, 187, 190, 193–222, 224–37, 239, 240, 242–45, 247, 273, 275–77, 282, 283, 284, 285–303, 305, 306, 308, 309, 310, 312–15, 317–22, 324–38, 340–44, 346–59

IV/208, 213, 216, 217, 236, 286, 287, 321

primum imperium

first state

III/122, 215, 220–22

*secundum imperium

the second state [see Glossary on “state”]

III/215, 220–22

summum imperium, summus imperator, jus summum imperandi

supreme command, supreme commander, supreme right to command

III/11, 193, 200, 209–11, 213, 234, 292, 300, 327

INDIFFERENTIA; INDIFFERENS

onverschillendheid; onverschillig, onverschillend, noch goed noch kwaad

indifference; indifferent

III/33, 38, 62

IV/213, 246, 250, 251, 255, 259, 266, 296

INFINITUS

oneindig

infinite, infinitely many, countless, unlimited

III/5, 83, 86, 93, 246, 279, 287

IV/173, 174, 181, 195, 198, 199, 210, 244, 253, 256, 257, 260, 269, 270, 276, 278–80, 283, 289, 291, 319, 330–32, 335

INGENIUM

vernuft (en schranderheid), aard, (zin en) verstand, zin en neiging, begrijp

mentality, (native) ability (or intelligence), wit, talent, understanding, temperament, mind

III/7, 11, 24, 33, 37, 42, 47, 53, 54, 61, 62, 65, 70, 75, 77–79, 102, 105, 117, 118, 147, 158, 167, 173, 177, 199, 203, 215, 217, 239, 244, 245, 275, 280, 282, 285, 286, 295, 309, 321, 341, 346, 352, 355, 356

IV/166–69, 207, 209, 220, 234, 250, 265, 281, 284, 290, 293, 301, 302, 305, 325

INJURIA; INJURIAM FACERE

ongelijk; ongelijk aandoen

wrong, injury, violation of right, assault; to wrong

III/5, 47, 104, 106, 117, 141, 196, 198, 239, 341, 355, 356

IV/217, 218, 226

INSANIA; INSANIRE; INSANUS

dwaasheid; spoorloosheid veroorzaken, buiten ’t spoor lopen/hollen; zinneloos insanity, madness; to be insane or crazy, rave; insane, mad

III/5, 8, 9, 123, 129, 136, 180, 182, 183, 187, 287

IV/244, 246, 258, 283, 285, 286, 289, 290

INSTITUTUM; INSTITUERE

instelling, inzetting; instellen

institution, something instituted, established practice, custom, plan, purpose; to institute, set up, organize, establish a practice

III/16, 19, 49, 62–64, 69, 70, 74, 76, 103, 104, 108, 111n*, 118, 137, 150, 151, 160, 171, 187, 189, 190, 192, 198, 201, 203, 205, 208, 216, 217, 219, 226, 237, 238, 243, 244, 273, 274, 278, 282–86, 295, 296, 302, 303, 307, 308, 314, 321, 323, 326, 336, 338, 341, 344, 347, 348, 357, 358, 359

IV/207, 213, 215, 219, 272, 294, 304, 318

INTEGER; INTEGRITATE ANIMI; INTEGRITAS MORUM

geheel, volkomen, oprecht; oprechtigheid des gemoeds; oprechtigheid der zeden whole, complete, unprejudiced, unimpaired, undiminished, healthy, (with de) anew, again; wholeheartedly; integrity of character

III/7, 9, 10, 11, 62, 64, 73, 76, 77, 87, 90, 96, 106, 108, 111, 118, 123, 128, 150, 178, 194, 195, 198, 202, 205, 216, 229, 244, 278, 283, 284, 290, 292, 298, 300, 303, 304, 309, 315, 323, 324, 325, 329, 338, 345

IV/165, 186, 200, 204, 240, 254, 285, 300

INTELLECTUS; INTELLIGENTIA, INTELLECTIO; INTELLIGERE; INTELLIGIBILIS; INTELLIGENS

verstand; verstaan; verstaan; wel te verstaan, verstandelijk; verstanding

intellect, understanding; understanding; to understand, to mean; intelligible; intelligent

III/8–10, 16, 18–21, 25–29, 34–36, 41, 45–48, 50, 57, 59–68, 72, 76, 77, 81–89, 92–94, 98, 100, 110–13, 115, 118, 119, 122, 123, 127, 129, 145, 163, 164, 167, 168, 170–72, 178, 184, 202, 207, 211, 274, 278–80, 293

IV/166, 168, 174, 188, 189, 209–12, 221, 222, 262, 263, 265, 269, 275–77, 295, 303, 310, 312, 320, 323

intellectus (absolute) infinitus

(absolutely) infinite intellect

IV/174, 278, 280

intellectus purus, pure intelligendum

pure intellect

III/29, 93, 98

IV/189

INTENTUM, INTENTIO; INTENDERE

einde, oogwit, oogmerk; uitstrekken, strekken, pogen, doelen

intent, purpose; to stretch, aim at, intend, have an aim, emphasize, be attentive to

III/27, 30, 43, 44, 46, 49, 79, 82, 87, 95, 108, 109, 134, 141, 167, 168, 174, 176, 180, 181, 184–86, 190, 191, 195, 199, 203, 218, 221, 240, 279, 286, 287, 292, 312, 355

IV/169, 261, 291, 302, 328

INTERPRETATIO; INTERPRES; INTERPRETARI

uitlegging, verklaring; verklaarder; verklaren, uitleggen

interpretation; interpreter; to interpret, translate

III/5, 9–12, 15, 16, 21, 24, 35, 52, 75, 82, 84, 91, 92, 94, 97–102, 105, 106, 108–17, 134, 135, 138, 148, 149, 151, 155, 159, 172, 178, 180, 192, 196, 206–10, 212, 218, 220, 222, 223, 225, 226, 228, 229, 232, 236, 237, 239, 240, 247, 282, 285, 292, 294, 320, 321, 341, 345

IV/210, 215, 219, 224, 225, 244, 282, 296, 315, 324

INVESTIGARE

opspeuren, naspeuren, verkrijgen, verstaan

to investigate, to find (out), search for

III/21, 28, 29, 76, 78, 85, 92, 98, 100, 102, 104–7, 112, 115, 164, 168, 185

IV/180, 215, 270

INVIDIA; INVIDERE; INVIDUS; INVISUS

nijd; benijden

envy, ill-will; to envy, be jealous of; envious; envied, detested

III/8, 44, 53, 193, 196, 203, 218, 225, 243, 274, 275, 281, 298, 312–14, 329, 335–37, 344, 352, 355, 356

IV/262

IRA; IRASCI; IRATUS; IRACUNDUS

gramschap; vergramd werden; vergramd; gramsteurig

anger; to become angry; angry; prone to anger

III/5, 6, 19, 31–33, 52, 65, 91, 101, 121, 161, 180, 190, 191, 193, 203, 217–20, 224, 225, 232, 241, 242, 244, 247, 274, 279, 281, 344

IV/218, 266, 291, 327, 328

ISRAËL; ISRAËLITA; ISRAËLITICUS

Israël; Israëliet; Israëlitische

Israel; Israelite, man of Israel; of Israel

III/18, 20, 38, 39, 40, 49, 52, 55, 63, 64, 78, 87–89, 108, 121, 122, 124–27, 133, 134, 142, 144, 152, 154, 160, 174, 179, 210, 224

IV/178, 213, 314

JEHOVA

De Heer

Yahweh, THE LORD

III/18, 24, 38, 39, 71, 87, 162, 169–71, 217

JUDAEUS

jood

Jew, man of Judah

III/8, 16, 18, 19, 23, 24, 33, 39, 48–51, 53–57, 64, 69, 70, 72, 78, 79, 81, 87, 88, 90, 94, 105, 114, 116, 125, 145, 146, 158–61, 166, 167, 169, 170, 173, 186, 200, 224

IV/178, 213–15, 218, 287, 296, 315

JUDICIUM; JUDEX; JUDICARE

vonnis, oordeel, gerechtigheid; rechter; oordelen, vonnissen

judgment, court; judge; to judge

III/7, 8, 11, 12, 59, 61, 67, 72, 73, 79, 91–93, 96, 99, 101, 110, 117, 122, 125, 126, 130, 132, 133, 135–37, 149, 152, 153, 155–57, 160, 164, 168, 171, 172, 175, 177, 179, 182, 185, 187, 190–92, 199, 203, 207, 210, 211, 213, 214, 217, 219, 222, 223, 226, 229, 232, 233, 235–43, 245–47, 263, 280, 285–88, 291, 292, 294, 295, 304, 305, 307, 309, 316, 317, 319, 320, 322, 332, 333, 335, 339, 341–44, 348–51, 353, 355

IV/165, 166, 168, 174, 176, 177, 180, 183, 185, 186, 207–10, 213, 216–18, 222, 225, 226, 229, 230, 233, 241, 250, 251, 256, 257, 260, 265, 284–86, 294, 296, 298, 302, 305, 312, 315, 328, 335

JUS; JUS JURANDUM

recht, wet; eed

right, law, legislation, due, authority; oath

III/7, 10, 11, 15, 16, 27, 37–39, 49, 57–59, 73, 74, 75, 85, 111, 116, 117, 119, 122, 177, 189–94, 196–203, 205–8, 210–17, 219–22, 224–31, 233–42, 246, 247, 275–77, 279, 281–95, 298, 299, 301, 303, 305, 307, 308–10, 312–16, 318–35, 337, 338, 341, 342, 347–53, 355, 357–59

IV/166, 212, 217, 224, 233, 239, 273, 281, 296, 312, 320, 321, 325, 327, 329

sui juris esse; (alicuius) juris; communis juris

van zijn recht behouden, haar eige recht behouden, onder zijn/haar eige recht staan; aan een anders verbonden, onder een anders recht; van een gemeen recht

to be one’s own master; subject to (someone’s) control, something (the person) has a right to; subject to the control of the community

III/75, 76, 201, 208, 210, 225, 229, 230, 231, 235, 239, 240, 242, 280, 281, 286–89, 290, 291, 293–95, 299, 312, 314, 347, 351

jurisperitus, juris prudens

rechtsgeleerde

jurist

III/301–4, 313

jus circa sacra, jus sacrum

right concerning sacred matters, sacred right

III/11, 218, 219, 228, 234, 236–38, 247

jus divinum

divine legislation, law, right

III/73, 75, 198, 199, 213, 219–21, 225, 230, 232, 236, 312

IV/296

(jus et) institutum naturae

(right and) established practice of nature

III/189, 190, 192, 279

jus naturale, naturae

natural right, law

III/11, 72, 189, 190, 192, 193, 195, 198, 199, 201, 205, 221, 229, 230, 239–41, 276, 277, 279–85, 289, 290, 294, 318

IV/239, 335

JUSSUS; JUBERE

gebod; bevelen

command, order; to command, order, ask (to do)

III/41, 60, 70, 75, 89, 90, 103, 104, 119, 122, 123, 130, 137, 153, 154, 174, 186, 194, 199, 200, 208, 209, 212, 221, 225, 231, 238, 302, 303, 346, 358

IV/233

JUSTITIA; JUSTUS; INJUSTITIA

gerechtigheid, rechtvaardigheid, billijkheid; gerechtig, rechtvaardig; ongerechtigheid

justice, equity; just, legitimate, righteous (rar.); injustice

III/10, 11, 38, 42, 44, 45, 59, 64, 65, 67, 71, 72, 103, 104, 106, 110, 161, 165, 166, 168–73, 176–80, 186, 196, 206, 220, 221, 226, 229–31, 241, 242, 276, 284, 286, 304, 307, 320, 321, 332, 342, 357

IV/215, 226, 273, 291, 296, 298, 317–19

LAETITIA; LAETARI; LAETUS

blijdschap; zich verblijden; blij

joy; to rejoice; joyful

III/27, 32, 33, 44, 59, 74, 75, 216, 284

IV/295

LECTIO; LECTOR; LEGERE

lezing; lezer; lezen

reading (usu.), version, material; reader; to read

III/61, 79, 80, 101, 109–11, 116, 122, 126, 127, 129, 134–40, 143, 146, 147, 149, 151, 153–55, 160, 180, 212, 217, 224, 238, 276, 314, 315, 318, 321, 337

IV/208, 210, 231, 237, 241, 243, 249, 259, 282, 291, 304, 306, 309, 317, 327

LEGISLATOR (SOMETIMES TWO WORDS: LEGIS LATOR)

wetgever

legislator, promulgator of laws, lawgiver

III/41, 48, 59, 62–65, 70, 103, 162, 207, 220, 231

IV/175

LEX

wet

law

III/7, 10, 12, 17, 18, 26, 27, 32, 41, 44, 45, 47–50, 54, 55, 57, 58, 59, 60–66, 67, 69, 71–73, 74, 75, 79, 80, 82, 83, 86, 87, 89, 95, 102–4, 113, 114, 116–19, 121–24, 126, 128, 133, 138, 150, 159, 161, 163, 166, 168, 174, 178, 190–93, 195, 196, 198, 206–10, 212, 216–18, 220, 222–26, 231–33, 238, 241, 243, 244, 246, 247, 283, 284, 290, 292, 293–95, 308, 310, 323, 326, 327, 329, 346, 348, 353, 355–58

IV/170, 172, 188, 189, 208, 209, 211, 215, 217, 310, 312, 331, 341–43, 336, 348, 359

lex Dei, lex divina

law of God, divine law

III/10, 23, 27, 49, 57, 59, 60, 61, 62, 64–66, 69, 70, 73, 79, 80, 82, 89, 122, 123, 127, 128, 158, 159, 161, 162, 165, 207, 208, 229, 232

IV/222, 223, 225

lex divina naturalis

natural divine law

III/61, 62, 66, 68, 70, 71, 72, 164, 166, 198

lex divina revelata, leges (Pentateuchi, Mosis), leges Veteris Testamenti

divine revealed law, laws of the Pentateuch, laws revealed to Moses, laws of the Old Testament

III/10, 11, 17–19, 23, 25, 26, 32, 45, 48, 61, 64, 71, 72, 76, 103, 113, 116, 119, 121–23, 127, 128, 133, 142, 150, 210, 222

lex (or regula) naturae, lex naturalis, leges motus et quietis

law of nature, natural law; laws of motion and rest

III/28, 46, 58, 62, 72, 82, 83, 85–89, 91, 95, 96, 189, 191, 199, 102, 229, 277, 279

IV/166, 170, 172, 211, 212

leges (humanae, nostrae) rationis,

leges Reipublicae

laws of (human, our) reason, laws of the body politic

III/71, 190, 191, 195, 229, 279, 286

LIBERTAS; LIBERARE; LIBER; LIBERALIS; LIBERE

vrijheid; bevrijden, verlossen, voltrekken; vrij; ongeveinsd; vrijmoedig

freedom, release; to free, deliver, honor (a pledge); free, independent; worthy of a free man; freely

III/7–12, 33, 41, 42, 49, 51, 54, 62, 65, 66, 71, 73, 74, 96, 98, 115–18, 126, 132, 135, 142, 156, 173, 174, 178, 179, 194, 195, 198, 200, 201, 205, 212–16, 221–25, 228, 233, 239–47, 273, 274, 276–79, 280, 282, 283, 294, 296, 297, 314, 315, 334, 335

IV/165, 168, 175, 198, 204, 209, 210, 212, 218, 220–25, 255, 259, 263, 264, 265, 266–68, 286, 289, 305, 311, 312, 315, 318, 344–46, 352, 353, 357

libertas animi; liber animus; liberali animo

freedom of mind; free spirit, (abl.)

freely; in a manner worthy of a free man

III/9, 11, 41, 73, 193, 274, 275

IV/220

Libertas philosophandi, ratiocinandi, sentiendi

freedom of philosophizing, reasoning, thinking

III/3, 12, 117, 179, 189, 239, 243

IV/166, 235, 236, 330

libertas voluntatis, libera voluntas

freedom of the will, free will

III/43, 178, 278, 359

IV/222, 255, 263, 265, 267

LIBIDO; AD LIBITUM; PRO LIBITU, EX LIBITU, LIBIDINE

begeerlijkheid, lust en begeerte, drift, geilheid en ontucht, overdaad; naar zijn/haar/hun believen, naar/zijn onze lust, na zijn vermaak; naar onze welgevallen, uit de lust, door drift

desire, immoderate (overwhelming, capricious) desire, lust, itch, craving; as one pleases, as they wished, to our liking, anything we like; as an arbitrary example, from the pleasure (of), from immoderate desire, as pleases

III/8, 35, 63, 73, 74, 75, 123, 134, 156, 203, 212, 216, 219, 221, 222, 223, 224, 246, 296, 299, 326, 355, 360

IV/186, 232, 253

LICENTIA; LICET; LICITUS

baldadigheid, vrijpostigheid, verlof, ongebondheid, toegeving; geoorlofd zijn, gelegenheid hebben, mogen; geoorlofd license, unruliness, lack of restraint; it is allowed, permitted, one may or can; permitted

III/7, 19, 35–37, 40, 43, 74, 75, 101, 104, 115, 124, 130, 135, 148, 149, 156, 159, 172, 173, 178, 190–92, 196, 198, 199, 201, 205, 215–17, 219, 224, 225, 227, 228, 232–35, 238, 239, 242, 246, 283, 285, 290, 295, 301, 302, 305, 306, 313, 316, 322, 327, 328, 334, 337, 341–43, 345, 349, 351, 353, 355, 360

IV/166, 174, 183, 187, 208, 216, 232, 242, 243, 246, 252, 254, 270, 275, 281, 283, 286, 295, 300, 302, 315, 334

LINGUA

taal

language, tongue

III/28, 29, 100, 101, 105–7, 109–11, 114, 115, 134, 138, 144, 145, 150, 151, 157, 165, 167, 179, 183, 202, 217, 239, 351

IV/227, 302, 315

lingua Hebraica, Hebraea; apud

Hebraeos, in Hebraeo

Hebrew language; in Hebrew

III/15, 33, 100, 105–11, 114, 133, 134, 138, 144, 150, 151

LOQUI

spreken

to speak, say, (rarely) express o.s.

III/15, 17–21, 23, 26, 28, 30, 31, 38, 52, 56, 63, 65, 66, 68, 80, 91–94, 99, 100, 106, 109, 115, 121, 127, 128, 130, 134, 135, 143, 146, 148, 151, 152, 154–56, 161, 163, 170, 171, 179, 181, 182, 186, 206, 207, 220, 229, 230, 240, 241, 243, 283, 287, 351, 355

IV/209, 210, 212, 215, 262, 266, 284, 292, 295, 303, 314

loqui humano more, ad alicuius captum, modus loquendi

to speak in a human way, according to someone’s understanding, manner of speaking

III/42, 44, 45, 65, 94, 106, 120, 121, 124, 135, 151, 153, 154, 172, 181, 198, 283

IV/315, 328

LUCRUM; LUCRARI [PECUNIAM]; LUCROSUS

winst; [geld] winnen; vorderlijk

profit, bribe, income; to win, make [money]; profitable

III/17, 63, 81, 203, 290, 305, 311, 316, 353, 355

IV/190–93, 322

LUMEN NATURALE, LUMEN NATURAE

natuurlijk licht

light of nature, natural light

III/9, 10, 15, 16, 23, 41, 62, 66, 68, 76, 78–80, 84, 91, 94, 95, 98, 100, 103, 112–15, 117, 152, 155, 156, 162, 163, 167, 172, 185, 187, 188, 229, 230, 231

IV/225

lumen divinum, propheticum, supra naturale, supernaturale, supra naturam

divine light, prophetic light, supernatural light

III/8, 9, 61, 68, 112, 113, 117, 167, 230, 231

IV/298

MAGISTRATUS

overheid, overigheid

magistrate

III/117, 223, 225, 241, 243, 244

IV/212, 215–18, 239, 299

MAJESTAS; MAJESTAS LAESA; MAJESTATEM LAEDERE

achtbaarheid, achtbaarheid en gesag, hoogheid, opperste macht; gekwetste hoogheid; de hoogheid kwetsen

majesty; treason; to commit treason, harm majesty

III/81, 188, 196, 197, 198, 205–08, 222, 228, 239, 240, 245, 293, 334

MALITIA

boosheid

wickedness, wicked conduct, malice

III/37, 96, 112, 135, 137, 160, 161, 165, 182, 274, 295, 354

IV/219, 264, 268, 294–96, 298, 308

MALUS

kwaad, schade

evil, bad

III/5, 6, 8, 22, 24, 32, 33, 37, 44, 48, 50, 52, 55, 59, 63, 66, 68, 74, 91, 97, 104, 126, 159, 165, 175, 178, 184, 191–94, 196, 202, 203, 226, 236, 239, 243, 245, 275, 279, 282, 286–88, 291, 294, 344, 326, 353–55

IV/207–9, 211, 213, 216, 220–22, 248, 268, 284, 293, 308, 312, 317, 334

MANDATUM

gebod, bevel

command, commandment

III/26, 27, 48, 54, 58, 62, 70, 73–76, 116, 122, 151, 154, 163, 169, 170, 172, 194, 195, 200, 202, 203, 206, 209–11, 216, 219, 229–31, 238, 285–87, 307

IV/208, 220, 223, 234, 235

MATHEMATICUS;     MATHEMATICAE; MATHEMATICE

wiskundig; wiskunde; wiskunstiglijk mathematician; mathematics; mathematically

III/30, 32, 36, 111n*, 157, 179, 185, 187, 274

IV/168, 194, 256, 269, 297, 302, 323, 331, 333

MENDA; MENDOSUS; EMENDARE

gebrek; gebrekkig; verbeteren

error; faulty; to correct

III/118, 135–37, 147–49, 158, 159, 164

MENS

geest, ziel, (zin en) mening, gemoed, verstand

mind, intention, purpose, meaning, spirit, thought, soul

III/5–7, 12, 16, 18, 20–22, 25, 26, 27, 29, 47, 52, 60, 64–66, 68, 70, 97, 98, 101, 102, 104–6, 108–15, 118, 135, 155, 159, 160, 170, 172, 176, 179, 180, 182, 184, 188, 191, 193, 201, 214, 229, 230, 241, 242, 244, 275, 278, 280, 281, 283, 285–88, 291, 296, 301, 302, 307, 309–11

IV/166, 168, 170, 179, 188, 189, 209, 210, 212, 216, 219, 223, 231, 233, 241, 255, 256, 266, 268, 272, 277, 279–81, 289, 290, 294, 297, 300, 304, 305, 307, 308, 310, 319, 323

mens authoris, prophetarum

author’s intention, intention of the prophets

III/66, 93, 98, 102, 104–6, 108–13, 115, 149, 163, 182, 284

IV/211

mens divina

divine mind

III/10

IV/212

mens humana

human mind

III/16, 20, 21, 25, 47, 58, 69, 118, 158, 277

IV/173, 174, 214, 272, 277–79, 284, 308, 325, 330

una veluti mente duci

to be led as if by one mind

III/281, 283–87, 297, 326, 331

METHODUS

middel

method

III/9, 90, 94, 98, 102, 104–7, 109–12, 114–17

IV/180, 188, 189, 262, 268, 269, 271, 336

METUS; METUERE

vrees; vrezen

fear; to fear

III/5–7, 12, 23, 61, 74, 75, 191–93, 201, 202, 206, 232, 233, 240, 274, 280, 285–88, 290, 293, 294, 296, 297, 312, 313, 316, 323, 326, 331, 341, 342, 351, 353, 355–57

IV/209, 216, 221–23, 245, 312, 323, 327

MILITIA; MILES; MILITARE; MILITARIUS

krijgsmacht, krijgsordening; krijgsman;

—; —

army, armed forces, military; soldier; to serve as a soldier; military

III/32, 208–10, 212–14, 292, 299, 305, 311–15, 327, 328, 335, 343, 354

MINISTERIUM; MINISTER

bediening; dienaar, bedienaar

ministry, task; minister, public official

III/8, 79, 89, 208, 212, 218, 222, 225, 235, 231, 236–38, 292, 303, 306, 307, 331–34, 335, 344, 349, 350, 353

IV/294, 295, 298

MIRACULUM; MIRARI; MIRUS

wonderdaad; verwonderen; wonderlijke miracle, wonder, marvel; to wonder at, to be amazed; amazing, astonishing

III/5, 8–10, 23, 24, 28, 31, 34–36, 45, 47, 49, 50, 53, 56, 68, 81, 82, 83–84, 84–85, 86, 87, 88, 90–96, 98, 99, 104, 109, 129, 136, 140, 141, 143, 161–63, 166, 167, 181, 182, 186, 188, 190, 218, 219, 226, 233, 279, 289, 317, 320, 322, 352

IV/165, 196, 211, 219, 220, 230, 250, 251, 260–62, 276, 285, 289, 290, 293, 295, 300, 304, 307, 308, 310, 313, 315, 321, 325, 328, 330

MISERICORDIA; MISERICORS; ; MISERERI

barmhartigheid, erbarmenis; barmhartig; erbarmen

compassion, mercy; compassionate, merciful; to pity, have mercy on

III/9, 26, 27, 32, 33, 38, 40, 50, 52, 64, 65, 72, 169, 171, 172, 177, 178, 224, 247, 274, 275

IV/215, 280, 285, 291, 292

MODIFICATIO; MODIFICARE

wijziging; wijzigen

modification; to modify

IV/173, 216, 276, 279

MONARCHIA; MONARCHA; MONARCHICUS

eenhoofdige heerschappij, monarchie; eenhoofdige vorst; eenhoofdig

monarchy; monarch; monarchic

III/7, 205, 207, 208, 211, 224, 226, 227, 235, 239, 271, 273, 282, 284, 298, 299, 307, 308, 317, 319, 321, 323–26, 328, 329, 331, 337, 340, 341, 344, 354

IV/286, 287, 296, 336

MONITIO; MONERE

vermaning; vermanen

warning, advice; to warn, advise, remind

III/12, 21, 27, 28, 30, 31, 38, 42, 43, 45, 50, 55, 76, 94, 103, 116, 121, 125, 147, 153, 156, 163, 188, 221, 223, 228, 231, 233, 236, 240, 247, 291, 319, 321, 333, 339, 340

IV/170, 189, 211, 303, 307, 309, 327, 328

MORALIA; MORES; BONI MORES; MORALIS

dingen de zeden betreffende; zeden; goede zeden; zedig

(precepts related to) morals; practices, customs, ways, character; morals; moral

III/12, 30–32, 35, 42, 56, 62, 65, 70–73, 101, 102, 111n*, 137, 152, 165, 185, 194, 213, 215, 217, 223, 234, 235, 244, 247, 280, 282, 283, 294, 324, 329, 339, 351, 355

IV/207, 209, 210, 212, 213, 215, 218, 219, 297, 303, 305, 328

documenta moralia; morale docere

moral teachings, doctrines, lessons; to teach a moral doctrine

III/70–73, 99, 102, 111, 135, 156, 186

IV/222, 312

MORS; MORI; MORTUUS; MORTALIS; IMMORTALIS

dood; sterven; dood; mens; onsterfelijk

death; to die; dead; mortal; immortal

III/6, 8, 25, 31, 41, 71, 72, 87, 90, 102, 119, 121, 124–27, 129–31, 133, 139, 149, 150, 152,

175, 182, 186, 188, 199, 201, 204–7, 209–11, 213, 215, 217, 219, 227, 232, 233, 234, 237, 245, 275, 287, 296, 305, 318, 319, 325, 334, 357, 360

IV/166, 208, 242, 254, 272, 282, 285, 288, 290, 294, 296–98, 310, 314, 322, 325

MOTUS; MOVERI

beweging; bewogen werden

motion; to move

III/9–11, 24, 32, 35, 36, 53, 54, 57, 78, 79, 89, 91–93, 113, 116, 123, 137, 140, 160, 161, 172, 176, 177, 179, 183, 211, 225, 239, 244, 246, 247, 288, 290, 293, 298, 334, 341, 343, 355

IV/165–67, 171, 172, 174, 177, 198, 205, 208, 210, 211, 214, 263, 266, 268, 271, 276, 292–95, 297, 303, 307, 331–33

motus et quies

motion and rest

III/102

IV/173, 177, 278

MULIER; MULIERCULA; MULIEBRIS

wijf; wijfje; vrouwelijk

woman; simple woman; unmanly, female

III/5, 29, 33, 170, 224, 359

MULTITUDO

de menigte

(the, a) multitude, multiplicity

III/6, 7, 10, 136, 203, 225, 274, 275, 282–84, 287, 288, 294, 296–99, 308, 309, 312, 318, 319, 323, 325, 326, 329–32, 342, 343, 347, 351, 352

IV/179, 256, 331, 332

multitudo libera

a free multitude

III/296, 297, 309, 319

MUNDUS

wereld

world, the earth

III/9, 23, 37, 39, 47, 64, 68, 72, 80, 89, 113, 114, 128, 163

IV/164, 166, 167, 178, 208, 247, 251–53, 255–57, 259, 260, 274, 275, 278, 279, 281–83, 286–90, 294, 296, 298, 304, 313, 319, 320

MUTATIO; MUTARE; MUTABILIS; IMMUTATUS; IMMUTABILIS

verandering; veranderen; veranderlijk; onverandert; onveranderlijk

change; to change; changeable; unchanged; immutable

III/36, 42, 57, 82–86, 89, 92, 94, 95, 105, 106, 108, 115, 129, 138, 149, 156, 165, 169, 218–20, 224, 227, 228, 244, 280, 290, 297, 298, 312, 318, 319, 321, 328, 329, 331, 335, 348, 353, 354, 358

IV/168, 182, 208, 209, 216, 286, 296, 297, 333, 335

MYSTERIUM

geheimenis, verborgenheid

mystery

III/9, 19, 65, 98, 118, 119, 129, 135, 136, 140, 141, 159, 167, 168

IV/210, 214, 285, 294, 323

NARRATIO; NARRARE; ENARRARE

verhaal, vertelling; verhalen; verhalen narration, narrative, account, record of fact; to narrate, to relate, to tell (of); to describe fully, recount, expound

III/9, 17, 19, 20, 29, 31, 34, 36, 40, 41, 43, 48, 63, 66, 69, 77, 79, 82, 84, 89–94, 99, 101, 104, 108, 109, 111, 119–34, 141–43, 145, 152, 154, 156, 161, 162, 164, 167, 204, 210, 224

IV/178, 197, 210, 216, 227, 243, 244, 245, 248, 250, 254, 258, 267, 286, 309, 317, 321, 328

NATIO [= gens]

landaard, volk

nation

III/37–40, 42, 44–51, 53–57, 72, 74, 77, 79, 80, 93, 102, 119, 145, 154, 166, 205, 214–17, 233, 246, 351, 360

IV/322

natio Hebraea

Hebrew nation

III/39, 46, 47, 55, 70, 106, 126, 128

NATURA (TOTA); NATURALIS

(de gehele) natuur; natuurlijk

(the whole of) nature; natural

III/5, 9, 16, 18, 23–25, 27n, 29, 39, 42, 45–48, 58, 60, 73, 76, 81–92, 95–99, 101, 102, 117, 163, 178, 179, 185, 189, 190–92, 195, 198, 206, 217, 231, 276, 277, 279, 281, 284, 286, 288, 289, 293, 295, 297, 314, 315, 318, 319, 354, 359, 360

IV/166, 169, 170, 172–74, 176, 177, 180, 182, 212, 275, 283, 284, 304, 307, 310, 315, 325

pars naturae, totius universi

part of nature, of the whole universe

III/46, 277

IV/166, 167, 169, 170, 173, 176

potentia naturae, rerum naturalium

power of Nature

III/28, 46, 58, 81, 83, 189, 206, 276, 277

IV/198

res naturales

natural things

III/42, 45, 46, 58, 60, 81, 84, 85, 94, 96, 98, 99, 102, 168, 276, 277, 292

IV/332

supra naturam

above nature

III/86, 87

NATURA (= ESSENTIA)

natuur

nature

III/8, 10, 15, 16, 30, 38, 56, 57, 58, 60–63, 70, 73, 81, 95, 99, 106, 109, 111, 116, 117, 137, 152, 171, 183, 215, 274, 278, 280, 281, 288, 289, 294, 297, 308, 319, 320, 329, 341, 347, 353, 356

IV/169–73, 179–85, 188, 189, 208, 209, 211, 212, 215, 216, 251, 265, 269–72, 278, 282, 297, 309, 316, 326, 327, 329

NECESSITAS; NECESSARIUS

nood, noodzakelikheid; noodzakelijk necessity, need; necessary

III/7, 11, 17, 19, 21, 30, 32, 46, 48, 49, 53, 57–65, 68, 69, 73–78, 82–86, 91, 92, 96, 98, 100, 102, 105, 108, 110, 111, 113–17, 123, 127, 130, 131, 147, 152, 153, 156, 157, 160, 164, 165, 168, 170, 172–76, 178–83, 185, 186, 188, 189, 191–93, 196, 198–203, 206, 208–12, 214, 215, 217, 221–24, 226, 228–36, 241–43, 245, 251, 252, 255, 256, 259, 265–69, 271, 273–75, 278–82, 285, 288, 289, 291–93, 296–300, 301, 303, 308–12, 315–18, 324–35, 337, 339, 341, 343, 344, 348–51, 353, 354, 357, 358, 360

IV/164, 179, 180, 183, 186, 188, 189, 200, 206, 208, 210–12, 214, 217, 221–24, 229, 251, 252, 255, 256, 259, 265–69, 271, 292, 293, 296, 297, 308, 310–12, 325–30, 333–35

NEGATIO; NEGARE

ontkenning, derving; ontkennen negation; to deny, be opposed

III/21, 45, 62, 63, 78, 105, 115, 123, 136, 148, 150, 153, 174, 180, 182, 183, 184, 187, 190, 216, 228, 235, 236, 240, 243, 278, 286, 320, 325, 340, 355, 358

IV/184, 209, 210, 221, 225, 240, 242–44, 249, 251, 254–56, 258, 259, 261, 262–64, 267, 278, 283, 285, 286, 296, 297, 312, 314, 315, 317, 320, 321, 326–30

NEGLIGENTIA; NEGLIGERE [CL. SP: NEGLEGENTIA, NEGLEGERE]

onachtzaamheid, achteloosheid; laten leggen, nalaten, achterlaten, verwaarlozen negligence; to neglect, fail to pursue, fail to care for

III/12, 58, 72, 98, 103, 104, 107, 112, 117, 137, 139, 160, 161, 174, 191, 312, 329, 331, 333, 354

IV/224, 259, 292

NOMEN

naam

name, noun, word, term

III/7, 15, 18, 38, 49, 53, 57, 58, 83, 97, 101, 106, 110, 120, 121, 128, 137, 138, 141, 148–51, 157, 161, 163, 169, 170, 204, 209, 213, 222, 227, 242, 292, 293, 300, 301, 315, 324, 333, 336, 342, 346, 351, 352, 355

IV/208, 211, 227, 239, 251, 257, 270, 285, 289, 291, 300, 305, 322

nomen Dei

name of God

III/18, 64, 120, 161, 169, 170, 186, 207, 211, 213, 220, 222, 223

NOTIO

kundigheid

notion

III/16, 28, 77, 84, 85

notio communis

common notion

III/61, 64, 84, 88, 99, 179

NOTITIA; NOTUS

kennis; bekend knowledge, acquaintance; known

III/78, 83, 84, 110, 112, 114, 115, 145, 164, 344

IV/230, 261, 295, 297, 298

notum per se

known through itself

III/61, 76, 84

NUMEN

Godheid, God

divinity, deity

III/5, 6, 87, 88, 92, 204

IV/168, 214, 215, 218, 310

OBEDIENTIA; OBEDIRE

gehoorzaamheid; gehoorzamen obedience; to obey

III/10, 11, 20, 26, 38, 44, 48, 64, 74, 76, 78, 79, 125, 160, 161, 167, 168, 172–79, 184–86, 188, 194, 195, 198, 199, 202, 206, 207, 211, 214, 216, 227, 230–33, 288, 307

IV/218, 220, 221, 288, 291, 292

OBLIGARE

verbinden

to bind

III/75, 122, 123, 161, 174, 198, 202, 294, 351

OBNOXIUS

onderworpen, onderworpeling

subject to (usu.), servile (once)

III/5, 6, 7, 47, 161, 275, 278, 281, 286, 289, 299, 320

IV/188

OBSCURITAS; OBSCURUS; OBSCURE; OBSCURARE

duisterheid; duister; duisterlijk; verduisteren

obscurity; obscure; obscurely; to obscure

III/28, 34, 35, 65, 88, 94, 100, 103, 106, 107, 109–12, 118, 129, 135, 148, 199

IV/181, 183, 197, 246, 256, 257, 282, 300, 313, 333

OBSEQUIUM; OBSEQUI

gehoorzaamheid, onderdanigheid, gedienstigheid; gehoorzamen

obedience, indulgence; to obey, comply

III/168, 174, 176, 202, 282, 283, 284, 294, 296, 299, 315

IV/305

OBSERVATIO; OBSERVANTIA; OBSERVARE

waarneming; eerbiedigheid; waarnemen observation, observance; deference; to respect, observe, keep, keep an eye on, notice

III/7, 41, 48, 49, 54, 62, 71, 83, 102, 106, 119, 135, 141, 149, 176, 217, 218, 224, 231, 295, 301, 304, 308, 319, 326, 332–35, 338, 341, 344, 353

IV/166–68, 171, 177, 262, 269–71, 292, 333

OBTEMPERANTIA; OBTEMPERARE

gehoorzaamheid; gehoorzamen obedience; to obey

III/38, 59, 97, 160, 170, 173, 174, 178, 193, 195, 199, 200, 202, 205, 216, 217, 228, 232, 233, 285, 307

IV/328

OBTINERE

bezitten, hebben, verkrijgen, bekomen, behouden, verwerven, in handen hebben

have, hold, obtain, achieve, be or remain in charge of, maintain control of, succeed (in)

III/11, 57, 121, 125, 170, 182, 184, 188, 200, 204, 212, 218, 221, 229, 237, 281, 286, 295, 298, 308, 314, 318, 321, 322, 326, 329, 330, 336, 347, 349

IV/185, 211, 212, 217, 236, 240, 249, 260, 301

OCCASIO

gelegenheid (usu.), oorzaak (rar.)

occasion, opportunity, circumstances

III/51, 57, 101–3, 109, 110, 126, 131, 144, 188, 219, 223, 274, 343, 348

IV/164, 174–76, 236, 264, 268, 271, 277, 299, 303, 305, 329, 335

OCCUPARE

innemen, bezitten, bemachtigen

occupy, take the place of, appropriate (for o.s.),

III/7, 47, 75, 85, 90, 91, 118, 127, 180, 203, 205, 227, 233, 302, 315, 329, 336, 339, 352

ODIUM; ODISSE, ODIO HABERE; ODIOSUS

haat; haten; gehaat

hate, hatred; to hate; hateful

III/6–9, 22, 29, 56, 89, 97, 104, 174, 180, 190, 191, 197, 201, 202, 212, 214–16, 233, 241, 245, 246, 274, 279, 281, 287, 304, 314, 343

IV/208, 223, 297, 321

OFFICIUM

ambt, staat, plicht, bediening

duty, function, office, service, favor

III/8, 50, 74, 75, 151, 157, 207, 209, 211, 228, 232, 234, 237, 288, 289, 292, 300–304, 306, 308, 314, 315, 322, 331–35, 337–39, 341, 343, 346, 348, 350, 356

IV/164, 167, 177, 187, 209, 216–18, 227, 273, 311, 317

OMNIPOTENS

almachtig

omnipotent, almighty

III/52, 102, 165

IV/186, 284, 285, 289, 291

OMNISCIENS

alwetend

omniscient

III/37, 38

OPINIO; OPINARI

gevoelen (en mening); menen, wanen opinion; to think

III/7–11, 18, 23, 30, 32, 35–43, 47, 53, 54, 64, 78, 79, 81–83, 88, 89, 91–93, 98–100, 104, 110, 114, 132, 135, 140, 142, 172, 173, 177–80, 183, 184, 192, 206, 215, 225, 234, 239, 242, 244, 247, 281, 337

IV/166, 214, 218, 235, 242, 245, 247, 251, 252, 254, 287, 290, 294, 299, 304, 306, 308–10, 314, 324, 328, 333

opinio praeconcepta

preconceived opinion

III/35, 92, 101, 115, 167, 171, 180

IV/209, 246

OPPRESSIO; OPPRIMERE

verdrukking; verdrukken

oppression; to oppress, suppress, silence, overpower, crush

III/103, 104, 204, 205, 213, 243, 246, 275, 281, 289, 323, 328, 352

IV/286, 287

OPTIMI, OPTIMI VIRI, OPTIMI CIVES, OPTIMATES

voornaamsten, de besten (mannen, burgers), voortreffelijksten

an/the elite, the best (outstanding) men (citizens)

III/213, 241, 271, 273, 312, 324, 326, 344, 359

IV/320

OPUS; OPERA; OPERATIO; OPERARI

werk; vlijt, hulp; werk, werking; werken work, action, task; assistance, deed; operation; to produce an effect, act, do, operate

III/11, 12, 23, 24, 46, 50, 58, 65, 73, 80–82, 84–87, 128, 157, 172, 174, 175, 179, 187, 189–91, 215, 216, 226, 230, 241, 243, 276, 277, 279

IV/166, 172, 177, 197, 198, 204, 205, 214, 215, 217, 222, 254, 255, 259, 263, 265, 266, 293–95, 297, 325

ORATIO; ORATOR; ORARE

reden; redenaar; bidden

utterance, speech, prayer; orator, spokesman; to pray, beg

III/8, 15, 26, 31, 37, 42, 52, 76, 100, 105–9, 116, 127, 128, 130, 135, 143, 145, 148, 149, 155, 161, 162, 164, 165, 181, 182, 204, 309

IV/272, 300

ORDO; ORDINARE; ORDINATUS

ordening (en sleur), staat; schikken; in ordening

order, procedure, system, organization, group, rank; to order, put in order, arrange, organize; orderly

III/7, 30, 33, 34, 38, 39, 45, 46, 58, 77, 81–83, 86, 89, 91, 92, 95, 102, 118, 123, 124, 126, 128–31, 134, 135, 142, 143, 148, 161, 162, 174, 175, 183, 189, 191, 208–10, 237, 238, 275, 279, 292, 298, 299, 303, 304, 307, 314, 334–36, 338–40, 343, 348–50, 356–58

IV/166, 170, 177, 208, 211, 268, 271, 279, 288, 289, 294, 295, 298, 299, 303, 304, 314, 322, 329, 331, 333, 334–36, 339, 340, 348–50, 356–58

ordo (universae, totius) naturae

order (of the whole of) nature, or of nature as a whole

III/10, 45, 46, 55, 81, 82, 84–86, 88–90, 95, 96, 162, 191, 199, 277, 279, 282–84

OTIUM; OTIOSUS

tijd, ledigheid, rust; ledig

leisure, (spare) time, freedom (from work), tranquillity, peace; idle

III/12, 81, 144, 216, 218, 219, 227, 237, 315–17, 355

IV/269, 276

PACTUM; PACISCI; PANGERE

verbond, belofte, verbintenis; zich verbinden, verdragen, bedingen

contract, covenant, agreement; to make a covenant, to contract, to agree

III/48, 53, 122, 123, 158, 161, 163, 174, 191–93, 196–200, 205–7, 211, 221, 223, 230, 242, 245

IV/217

PARS; PARTICULA

deel; deeltje

part, share, faction, side, party; particle

III/59, 77, 107, 185, 191, 194, 195, 208, 210, 212, 216, 220, 223, 239, 287, 306, 308, 309, 312, 313, 315–319, 322, 324, 328, 332, 333, 337, 340, 342, 347, 348, 350, 351

IV/170–73, 181–84, 260, 268, 292, 331, 332

pars, particulae naturae, pars cuiusdam infiniti intellectus

(small) part of nature, part of a certain infinite intellect

III/58, 82

IV/166, 167, 169, 170, 173, 174, 176, 191, 277, 279

PASSIO; PATI; PATIENS

hartstocht, lijding, lijden, tocht; lijden; lijder

passion; to admit of, suffer, allow, endure, undergo; one acted on

III/22, 39, 40, 46, 49, 68, 74, 75, 89, 94, 101, 106, 118, 184, [check]152, 196, 200, 202–5, 214, 220, 226, 245, 277, 278, 292, 293, 298, 313, 315, 320, 329, 360

IV/172, 173, 182, 186, 281, 283, 285, 318, 319, 322

passio Christi

the passion of Christ

III/68, 163, 166

IV/285, 310, 325, 328, 330

PATER; PATRIA; PATRIARCHA

vader; vaderland; aartsvader

father, forefather; (a person’s own) country, native land, homeland; patriarch

III/12, 19, 39, 50, 71, 72, 104, 116, 117, 128, 130, 131, 136, 144, 160, 163, 169–71, 200, 202, 206, 209, 213–16, 223, 227, 231, 232, 247, 298, 318, 330, 333, 334, 337, 343, 345, 346, 355, 356, 358–60

IV/178, 250, 280, 282, 283, 285, 291, 303

PATRICIUS

keurrad

patrician

III/323, 324, 326–37, 341–45, 347–51, 355, 356, 358, 359

PAX; PACATUS; PACIFICE

vrede, rust, gemenerust; bezadigd; vredelijk

peace; peaceful; peacefully

III/3, 7, 8, 11, 32, 67, 80, 149, 179, 194, 195, 207, 209–11, 214, 221, 224, 227–29, 231, 232, 235, 240–42, 246, 247, 273, 282, 286, 288, 290–92, 295, 296, 298–300, 303, 305, 306, 308–12, 314, 316, 317, 320, 326, 327, 335–37, 343, 349, 354, 355, 360

IV/168, 175, 290, 293

PECCATUM; PECCARE

zonde; zondigen

sin; to sin

III/20, 25, 37, 42, 52, 54, 70, 91, 135, 158, 159, 172, 178, 190, 198, 199, 211, 215, 229, 247, 276, 278, 282, 283, 284, 292, 293, 295, 331, 332, 353, 355

IV/282, 285, 289, 290, 293, 294, 310, 327–30

PENTATEUCHOS

(Moses) vijf boeken

Pentateuch

III/38, 45, 117–20, 122–24, 152, 153, 170

PERCEPTIO; PERCIPERE

bevatting; begrijpen, vatten, bevatten, verstaan, zien

perception; to perceive, grasp, see, find

III/10, 16, 18, 21, 27–29, 32, 33, 38, 58, 59, 63–65, 76–78, 82, 84, 85, 92, 93, 100, 111, 115, 122, 128, 149, 152, 162, 163, 165, 167, 188

IV/166, 174, 188, 189, 199, 209, 210, 222, 240, 255–57, 261, 269, 274, 275, 279, 297, 302, 324

perceptibilis; imperceptibilis

bevattelijk; onbevattelijk, onbegrijpelijk the perceptible, perceivable; the impossible to perceive, incomprehensible

III/106, 109, 110, 111, 116, 149

PERFECTIO; PERFICERE; PERFECTUS; IMPERFECTIO; IMPERFECTUS

volmaaktheid; volmaakt, volkomen maken; volmaakt; onvolmaaktheid; onvolmaakt

perfection; to perfect, to bring to completion; perfect; imperfection; imperfect

III/21, 29, 53, 58–60, 62, 65, 67, 73, 82, 83, 88, 93, 95, 106, 118, 128, 129, 279

IV/168, 182, 184–86, 206, 208, 246, 248, 252, 257, 260, 270, 271, 282, 285, 286, 289, 290, 293, 295, 296, 298, 303

ens perfectissimum, perfectum

(most) perfect being

III/60

IV/179, 256

PERICULUM; PERICLITARI; PERICULOSUS

gevaar; wagen, in gevaar staan; gevaarlijk danger, risk; risk, to be in danger; dangerous

III/5, 11, 24, 47, 98, 187, 194, 196, 199, 201, 203, 225, 226, 228, 237, 240, 244, 295, 299, 311, 313–15, 318, 319, 326, 328, 330, 331, 335, 344, 346, 353, 354

IV/164, 190–93, 291, 292, 300, 304

PERITIA; PERITUS; IMPERITIA; IMPERITUS

ervaren zijn; ervaren, geleerde, verstandig; onbedrevenheid; onervaren expertise; experienced, learned, wise, expert; inexperience; inexperienced

III/5, 102, 131, 150, 161, 164, 167, 172, 174, 240, 292, 306, 320, 336

IV/208, 209, 213, 230

PERSUASIO; SIBI PERSUADERE, PERSUADERI

vroedmaking; zich vroedmaken

persuasion; to persuade o.s., to believe

III/10, 32, 35, 43, 49, 55, 57, 74, 75, 78, 87, 88, 106, 110, 125, 133, 136, 140, 148, 180, 186, 204, 205, 212, 213, 237, 274, 275, 329, 341

IV/164, 170, 204, 207, 215, 219, 220, 226, 248, 250, 252, 258, 259, 272, 285, 286, 290, 292, 296, 297, 302, 304, 305, 307, 325, 330, 333

PHARISAEUS

Farizeeër

Pharisee

III/43, 53, 55, 71, 72, 105, 116, 118, 136, 138, 141, 146, 147, 150, 164, 180, 223, 225

IV/321

PHILOSOPHUS; PHILOSOPHIA; PHILOSOPHARI; PHILOSOPHICUS

wijsbegerig, wijsgerig; wijsbegeerte; op de wijze der wijsbegerige redeneren, wijsbegeriger te redeneren; wijsbegerige philosopher; philosophy; to philosophize; philosophic

III/3, 9, 10, 12, 16, 29, 30, 36, 41, 43, 44, 88, 92, 93, 95, 114, 115, 117, 158, 166–68, 172–74, 179, 180, 183, 185, 187–89, 198, 237, 243, 273, 274, 293

IV/164–69, 179, 199, 210, 225, 234–36, 241, 242, 244, 245, 253, 254, 256, 258, 259, 262, 268, 272, 273, 279, 281, 284, 287–89, 290, 292, 295, 297, 298, 301, 307, 311, 319, 320, 328, 330, 331, 333

PIETAS; IMPIETAS; PIUS; IMPIUS; PIE; IMPIE

godvruchtigheid; godloosheid, boosheid; godvruchtig; goddeloos; godvruchtig; godloos

piety, religious duty, dutiful conduct; impiety, immorality; pious, one who observes religious duties, religious duty; impious, immoral; piously; impiously

III/3, 7–9, 11, 12, 16, 24, 27, 31, 37, 45, 50, 52, 55, 56, 66, 67, 77, 78, 80, 104, 111, 112, 116, 148, 159–61, 163, 165, 166, 172, 173, 176, 177, 179, 180, 182, 184, 197, 205, 206, 214–16, 218, 221–23, 225, 226, 228, 232–34, 235–37, 240–42, 244, 246, 247, 283, 286

IV/166, 167, 210, 212, 213, 215, 281, 290

PLACERE; PLACITUM

behagen, goed dunken; besluiting, believen, believing en goedvinding to please; decree, decision, fancy

III/6, 12, 21, 57, 58, 72, 82, 96, 97, 162, 173, 176, 297, 340

IV/215, 243, 248, 266, 268, 274, 293, 302–4, 309

PLEBS; PLEBEIUS

het (gemeen) volk, een gemeen man, de slechste slag; van de gemene hoop

ordinary person/people (usu.), the mob (occ. in TTP), plebeians (occ. in TP)

III/6, 65, 77, 78, 91, 122, 138, 167, 172, 208, 219, 222, 223, 225–27, 240, 242, 244, 319, 320, 326, 327, 332, 335, 341–45, 355

IV/198, 199, 216, 217, 322

POLITIA; POLITICA; POLITICUS

staatkunde; burgerlijke bestiering; staatkundig

organized community; politics; political, political practitioner

III/3, 15, 67, 73, 91, 110, 132, 221, 246, 271, 273, 274, 276, 319, 321, 345

IV/178, 207, 218, 227, 234, 238, 276, 288, 299, 301, 303, 304, 306, 307, 313, 322, 323, 331, 335, 336

POLLICERI

beloven

to promise, give assurance

III/280, 291, 300, 313, 322

IV/167, 177, 230, 272

PONTIFEX; PONTIFICATUS; PONTIFICALIS

priester, opperpriester, pausgezind

priest, high priest, pontiff; (high) priesthood; priestly

III/48, 49, 55, 56, 105, 114, 146, 214, 218, 222, 223, 234, 237, 238

IV/296, 317, 324

(summus) pontifex Hebraeorum, Judaeorum

Opperpriester der Hebreën, Joden high priest of the Hebrews, Jews

III/116, 117, 146, 208–10, 212, 213, 215, 219–22, 234, 235, 237, 238

pontifex Romanorum, Romanus

Roomsche Opperpriester

Roman Pontiff, Pope

III/116, 117, 235, 321

IV/296, 324

POPULUS; POPULARIS

volk; volkelijk

people; popular

III/8, 20, 23, 31, 35, 51, 53, 55, 61, 64–66, 74, 75, 119, 121–25, 127, 128, 132, 136, 138, 146, 152–54, 166, 174, 186, 194, 195, 207–9, 211–14, 217–20, 222, 224–27, 232, 235–37, 239, 298, 310

IV/213, 282, 336

POSSIBILIS, IMPOSSIBILIS

mogelijk; onmogelijk

possible, impossible

III/58, 63, 293

IV/205, 264, 269, 271, 274, 284, 330

POTENTIA; POTENS; IMPOTENTIA

macht, vermogen; machtig; onmacht

power; powerful; weakness

III/11, 16, 23, 26, 33, 38, 39, 41, 43, 46, 58, 81, 83, 84, 86, 88, 167, 169, 178, 189–91, 193, 194, 196, 201–3, 224, 228, 235, 240, 276–82, 284, 285, 287–91, 293–95, 298, 299, 312–15, 318, 319, 322–27, 329, 332, 337, 342, 343, 345, 347, 349, 352, 354, 355

IV/173, 174, 182, 188, 220, 267, 277, 284–87, 310, 315, 329, 330, 332

POTESTAS

macht, vermogen

'power, right, discretion

III/11, 23, 29, 106, 116, 195, 196, 200, 203, 208, 222, 233, 235, 277–80, 284, 285, 287, 289, 291, 293, 298, 300, 306, 307, 309, 313, 315, 320, 322, 324, 331, 334, 353, 354, 359

IV/217, 239, 263, 267, 288, 293, 300, 312, 325, 327, 329

potestas, summa; summae potestates supreme power; supreme powers

III/7, 11, 12, 14, 16, 116, 189, 193–99, 201, 207, 210, 225, 226, 228, 229, 232–35, 237, 238, 240–43, 245–47, 284, 286, 288, 289, 291, 292, 299, 310, 318, 324, 344, 348, 352

PRAECEPTUM; PRAECIPERE

gebod; bevelen, verbieden, gebieden command, commandment, precept; to command, order, tell s.o. (not) to do s.t.

III/19, 41, 49, 60, 63, 64, 66, 80, 87, 103, 124, 128, 131, 156, 176, 185, 198, 208, 209, 223, 238

PRAEDICARE; PRAEDICATIO; PRAECO

verkondigen, leren; verkondiging; verkondiger

to preach, proclaim, teach, make a claim, predicate; preaching; preacher

III/10, 72, 112–15, 151, 153–58, 159, 162–64, 167, 170, 207, 233

IV/210, 281, 285, 294, 309, 321

PRAEDICTIO; PRAEDICERE

voorzegging; voorzeggen

prediction; to predict

III/5, 27, 30–32, 36, 48, 51–53, 55, 72, 87, 93, 120, 126, 142, 143, 150, 152, 162, 186, 211, 219, 226

IV/177, 295

PRAEJUDICIUM

vooroordeel, nadeel

prejudice

III/7, 8, 10, 12, 35, 38, 43, 82, 91, 98–100, 104, 108, 110, 118, 180, 188, 217

IV/166, 207, 266, 267, 272, 296, 299, 302

PRAEMIUM

beloning, vergelding

reward, compensation

III/62, 70, 174, 178, 287, 316, 317, 328, 332, 356

IV/208, 209, 218, 220, 223, 324, 330

PRAESCRIPTUM; PRAESCRIBERE

gebod; voorschrijven

prescription; to prescribe

III/17, 44, 45, 48–50, 57–60, 62, 64–66, 75, 113, 168, 171, 178, 192, 212, 216, 239–41, 243, 275, 277–79, 283, 286, 295, 298

IV/189, 218

PRAESTANTIA; PRAESTARE; PRAESTANS

voortrefflickheid; bewijzen, uitwerken; voortreffelijk

superiority, excellence; to fulfill, make good, render, achieve, provide, furnish, supply; excellent, outstanding

III/12, 21, 37, 41, 46, 54, 61, 68, 79, 106, 135, 163, 195, 197, 201, 204, 231, 232, 239, 241, 245, 246, 278, 289, 291, 299, 323, 336, 346, 355

IV/188, 232, 253, 276, 293, 295, 303, 306, 310

PRAXIS

het gebruik

practice, actual life

III/201, 233, 242, 273, 274, 298, 307, 312, 325, 326, 358, 359

IV/273, 299, 307, 309

PRECATIO; PREX; PRECARI; PRECARIUS; PRECARIO

gebed; gebed; bidden; bij vergunning en te leen; bij vergunning, bij toelatting prayer; entreaty; to pray, implore; precarious; precariously, by entreaty, at someone else’s pleasure

III/25, 91, 121, 150, 156, 190, 193, 204, 219, 220, 226, 299, 325

IV/208, 211, 291, 293

PRINCEPS; PRINCIPATUS

vorst; heerschappij, het vorstelijk recht prince, ruler, leader; empire, rule

III/62, 63, 65, 70, 96, 141, 145, 178, 198, 208–16, 218, 221, 222, 231, 234, 237, 296, 297, 314, 322, 331, 332

IV/175, 234–36, 254, 281, 287, 299, 302, 319, 320, 323, 324

PRINCIPIUM

beginzel

(founding) principle, beginning

III/27–29, 39, 43, 84, 95, 98, 100, 114, 117, 156, 176, 276, 353, 354

IV/167, 181, 199, 209, 210, 213, 235, 239, 259, 262, 268, 281–84, 297, 298, 302, 329, 332

PRIVATIO; PRIVARE; PRIVATUS

derving; beroven; bezonder privation; to deprive; private, without [= free of]

III/11, 62, 66, 96, 116, 137, 151, 196, 200, 201, 203, 208, 219, 220, 223, 233, 234, 236, 237, 274, 275, 289, 294, 296, 298, 309, 316, 322, 329, 332, 341, 346, 347

IV/184, 216, 217, 256

PROFANUS; PROFANARE

ongewijd, gemeen; ontwijden secular, profane, unconsecrated; to profane (i.e., deprive something of its religious status)

III/50, 79, 159–62, 214, 220, 234, 236, 247, 315

Ex professo

met voordacht, voorbedachtelijk, met

voorbedachte raad

explicitly, intentionally, in detail

III/103, 109, 128, 166, 171, 172, 195, 221, 226, 228

PROMITTERE; PROMISSIO

beloven; belofte, verdrag

to promise; promise

III/30, 41, 45, 48, 55, 56, 59, 70–72, 75, 91, 126, 131, 169, 192, 193, 197–200, 205, 207, 211, 214, 230, 233, 242, 291

IV/228, 288, 293, 295, 296, 330

PROPHETIA; PROPHETA; PROPHETARE, PROPHETIZARE; PROPHETICUS; PROPHETICE

profetie; profeet; profeteren; profetische; op een profetische wijze

prophecy; prophet; to prophesy; prophetic; prophetically

III/9, 10, 15, 16, 17, 19–21, 23–37, 40–42, 44, 48, 49–53, 55, 56, 63–66, 69–71, 79, 80, 87, 88, 89, 92–95, 99, 101–5, 109, 111–15, 121, 125, 142, 143, 144, 146, 148–60, 162–64, 166–68, 170–73, 178, 180–87, 199, 205, 207, 210, 213, 220, 223, 224, 226, 230, 236, 238, 283, 284, 319

IV/165, 209, 210, 213, 214, 218, 223, 225, 283, 328

Prophetae falsi et veri

false and true prophets

III/31, 33, 87, 186, 207, 220, 225

PROPRIETAS; PROPRIUM; PROPRIUS; PROPRIE

eigenschap; eigen; uw, hun eige; eigentlijk property; peculiar property; proper, rightly belonging to, peculiarly belonging to, (a person or thing’s) own; literally

III/39, 60, 63, 95, 99, 169, 274, 277, 281, 326

IV/168, 180, 181, 183–85, 194, 213, 215, 259, 261, 270, 271, 288, 318, 326, 333–35

PROVIDENTIA; PROVIDERE

voorzienigheid; voorzien

providence; to provide for

III/10, 20, 38, 68, 78, 81, 82, 84, 86–89, 103, 135, 144, 165, 194, 205, 213, 231, 235, 295, 341

IV/168, 218, 289, 297

PROXIMUS (AS A NOUN); PROXIMUS (ADJ.)

naaste; naast

neighbor, relative; proximate, related

III/46, 58, 71, 91, 102, 104, 165, 168, 174, 175, 198, 232, 233, 306, 309, 324, 359

IV/290

PRUDENTIA; PRUDENS; PRUDENTER; IMPRUDENTER

wijsheid, voorzichtigheid; wijs, wijs en voorzichtig; voorzichtelijk

wisdom, prudence; wise, prudent; prudently; imprudently

III/8, 22, 26, 29, 45, 47, 66–68, 141, 150, 205, 223, 295–97, 307, 344, 353, 357

IV/166

PUBLICUS; PUBLICE

gemeen; opentlijk

public, generally recognized; publicly

III/7, 8, 116, 117, 137, 138, 146, 151, 188, 197, 203, 223, 225, 232, 233, 236, 246, 274, 275, 288, 292, 300, 301, 303, 307, 308, 312, 316, 328, 330, 331, 334, 335, 339, 345, 346, 350, 357, 359

IV/164, 212, 217, 218, 235, 236, 289, 292

PURIFICATIO; PURUS; IMPURUS; IMPURARE

zuivering; rein; onzuiver; verontreinigen purification; pure, uncontaminated, simple; unclean, impure; to defile

III/18, 25, 29, 49, 61, 64, 69, 93, 98, 145, 149, 153, 160, 217–19, 229, 231, 233

IV/189, 288

QUAESTIO

geschil, zaak, kwestie, onderzoek

question, problem, dispute, investigation, inquiry

III/11, 44, 77, 95, 154, 175, 225, 227, 236, 272, 288, 290, 292, 302–4, 316, 317, 333, 334, 339–41, 348, 350

IV/169, 181, 187, 190, 193, 198, 259–61, 263, 279, 336

RABINUS

rabbijn

rabbi

III/34, 41, 105, 119, 132, 134, 138, 142, 144, 150, 182, 210

RATIO; RATIOCINIUM; RATIONALIS; RATIOCINARI; SECUNDUM RATIONEM; IRRATIONALIS

reden; redenering; redelijk; redeneren; volgens de reden; onredelijk

reason, reasoning, argument, relation, principle, nature, purpose, account, consideration of, attention to, ratio, proportion; reasoning; rational; to reason; rationally; irrational

III/5–8, 10, 12, 18, 25, 29, 30, 34, 36, 38, 40, 41, 43, 45, 47, 50, 53, 54, 59, 62, 64, 67, 69, 73, 77, 80, 83, 87, 88, 91, 97, 98, 100, 101, 104, 106, 111, 113–16, 118, 120, 124, 128, 134, 136–40, 142, 150, 152, 153, 156–59, 165, 170, 174–76, 178–96, 198, 202, 203, 210, 214, 215, 217, 222, 223, 226, 229, 231, 232, 234, 239–46, 274, 275, 277–80, 282, 283, 285, 286, 288, 291–93, 295–97, 303, 304, 306–8, 315, 318, 319, 322, 326, 328, 330, 333, 339, 340, 341, 347, 350, 351, 354, 357, 359

IV/167, 170–72, 177, 180, 186, 187, 197, 205, 208–10, 213–15, 218, 220, 221, 225, 228, 244, 245, 247, 248, 250–53, 256, 257, 259, 260, 262–64, 267, 268, 276, 278, 281–83, 287, 293, 297–99, 302, 304, 310, 316, 317, 319, 320, 322–25, 327, 333, 335

dictamen (sanae) rationis; documenta (verae) rationis; ratio dictare

dictate of (sound) reason; teachings of (true) reason; reason dictates

III/73, 80, 101, 190, 191, 194, 198, 229–31, 241, 242, 276, 279, 283, 286, 287, 291, 293, 327

IV/303

documenta (verae) rationis; ratio

docet; ratione dirigitur

teachings of (true) reason; reason

teaches; directed by reason

III/70, 183, 203, 215, 229–31, 275, 276, 283, 286, 287, 291, 295, 315

IV/297

ductu (sanae) rationis; ratione duci guidance of (sound) reason; to be led or guided by reason

III/80, 188, 190, 192–95, 198, 202, 274, 275, 277, 278, 280, 282, 283, 286, 287, 291, 294, 297, 308

IV/165

ex (nostrae) rationis praescripto; contra sua rationis praescriptum

according to the prescription of (our) reason; contrary to the prescription of one’s reason

III/275, 277–79, 283, 286, 295, 298

leges humanae rationis; principia suae rationis

laws of human reason; principles of his own reason

III/190, 191, 229, 279, 286

IV/210

ratio (bene)vivendi

(reden en) regel, middel van (wel) te leven

principle (or way) of living (well)

III/41, 46, 59, 60, 69

sana ratio

sound reason

III/7, 73, 80, 83, 190, 195, 198, 240, 241, 283, 286, 287, 291

usus rationis; ratione (recte) utendi the use of reason; using reason (rightly)

III/182, 191, 198, 241, 278–80 IV/319, 323

RATIO MOTUS AD QUIETEM

reden van beweging en rust

ratio of motion to rest

IV/173, 177

RATUS; IRRITUS

bondig; krachtelos

valid; null and void, ineffective

III/161, 169, 191, 192, 205, 280, 288, 304, 308, 310, 311, 318, 335, 340, 342, 348

REALITAS; REALIS; REVERA, REALITER

zakelijkheid; zakelijk, dadelijk, in der daad, zakelijk ding; waarlijk

reality; real; really

III/19, 20, 92, 93, 162, 206, 281

IV/275, 335

REGIMEN; RECTOR; REGINA; REGENS; REGIA

bestiering; bestierder; koningin; bestierder; raadhuis

regime, government, control; ruler, governor; queen; regent; court

III/7, 23, 64, 145, 208, 331–33, 341, 351, 352, 356, 359

IV/276, 286, 292, 293, 296

REGULA; REGULARIS

regel; regelmatig

rule; regular

III/9, 83, 96, 99, 102, 107, 137, 138, 175, 181, 182, 184, 189, 190, 274, 292, 293, 323

IV/263, 264, 295

regulae motus

rules of motion

III/102

IV/166, 167, 174, 177

RELIGIO; RELIGIOSE

Godsdienst; godsdienstelijk

religion, religious scruple, religious duty; in a religious manner, scrupulously

III/5–8, 11, 16, 49, 50, 55–57, 75, 76, 92, 96, 97, 116–18, 123, 124, 140, 141, 146, 153–60, 163–67, 182, 189, 197–200, 206, 209, 210, 213, 217, 218, 220–23, 225, 226, 228–33, 235–38, 246, 247, 274, 275, 283, 288, 289, 291, 307, 317, 319, 345

IV/168, 207, 212–14, 216, 217, 218, 220, 221, 228, 235, 236, 272, 273, 287, 288, 297, 299, 307, 309, 310, 313, 315, 318, 320

Religio catholica, universalis

Catholic religion, universal religion

III/10, 116, 162, 163, 231, 345

IV/225

religio vera

true religion

III/6, 67, 155, 158, 159, 162, 163, 186, 230, 289

IV/272

REPRAESENTATIO; REPRAESENTAMEN; REPRAESENTARE

verschijning, vertoning; vertoning; vertonen

representation; representation; to represent

III/20, 32, 34, 35, 62, 92, 93, 105, 153

IV/233, 279, 284

REPUGNANTIA; REPUGNARE

tegenstreving; tegen . . . strijden

contradiction, incoherence, conflict; to be inconsistent with, to be contrary to

III/7, 10, 12, 38, 40, 41, 54, 57, 72, 83–87, 91, 94–98, 100, 101, 113–15, 139, 140, 150, 159, 170, 179, 181–85, 188, 191, 193, 198, 199, 202, 241, 242, 247, 286, 291, 307, 327, 330, 342

IV/181, 212, 259, 281, 283, 286, 287, 294, 295, 297, 315, 323

RESPUBLICA (SOMETIMES: RES PUBLICA)

gemene staat (sometimes one word), gemenebest

republic, public affairs

III/3, 7, 11, 59, 60, 70–73, 103, 104, 116, 117, 173, 179, 187, 189, 192, 194, 195, 197, 218, 221, 225, 226, 228, 229, 232, 233, 235, 236, 239–47, 273, 282, 284, 289, 292, 295, 302, 321, 324, 328, 332, 333, 337–39, 346, 352, 354, 356–58

IV/166, 167, 212, 213, 215–18, 228

Respublica (imperium, societas, natio) Hebraeorum, Judaeorum, Israeliticorum

Hebrew republic (state, social order, nation)

III/10, 11, 48, 50, 69, 72–76, 122, 126, 128, 133, 134, 201, 206, 220–22, 230, 238

IV/213, 214, 296

Respublica optima, bona

best, good, republic

III/60, 104, 189, 243

Respublica (imperium) Romanum,

Romanorum

Republic (empire, state) of the Romans

III/166, 204, 357

REVELATIO; REVELARE

openbaring; openbaren

revelation; reveal

III/9–11, 15–21, 23, 26–28, 30–40, 42, 43, 48, 49, 51–54, 61, 63–65, 69, 77, 79, 80, 88, 89, 95, 96, 98, 99, 104, 105, 118, 124, 143, 151–56, 160, 167–69, 171, 179, 184–86, 188, 198–200, 203, 205–7, 213, 221, 229, 230, 233, 238, 283

IV/209, 218, 223, 225, 284, 304, 307, 309, 314

REX; REGNUM; REGERE; REGNARE; REGIUS

koning; heerschappij, rijk, koninkrijk; bestieren, besluiten; heersen; koninglijk king; kingdom, reign, domain, throne, rule, realm; to govern, rule, manage; to reign, control, rule; royal, kingly

III/5, 6, 10, 12, 32–34, 36, 39, 41, 43, 45, 48, 49, 56, 64, 65, 72, 74, 76, 81, 92, 93, 96, 120, 122, 125, 126, 132–34, 136, 138, 141–46, 154, 166, 171, 172, 177, 182, 187, 188, 195, 200–209, 211, 212, 216, 219–28, 230–32, 234–38, 245, 246, 273, 295, 298–304, 306–10, 312–25, 329, 331, 332, 336–38, 342, 344, 346, 348, 352–54, 358, 360

IV/168, 174, 177, 188, 213, 285–87, 291, 308, 325, 327

regnum caeleste, caelorum, dei, divinum

koninkrijke Gods, koninkrijk der hemelen

kingdom of heaven, of God

III/65, 72, 103, 206, 214, 222, 229, 230, 231

RISUS; RIDERE, IRRIDERE; RIDICULUS

gelach; belachen; belachelijk

laughter, ridicule; to laugh at, mock, ridicule; mocker; ridiculous

III/11, 19, 36, 53, 86, 114, 146, 148, 150, 177, 188, 191, 204, 273, 274, 279, 293, 319

IV/166, 196, 251, 254, 258, 260, 285, 290, 302, 335

SACERDOS

priester

minister, priest

III/114, 123, 143, 145, 204, 218, 221, 223, 238, 345

IV/295, 317

SAECULUM

eeuw

age, generation, period, century

III/95, 102, 121–23, 125, 126, 133, 163, 235, 273, 275, 289

IV/284, 286, 288, 291, 295, 297

SAEVITIA; SAEVUS

wreedheid; wreed

cruelty, savagery; savage

III/7, 9, 26, 225, 323

IV/216, 284, 286, 288, 291, 295, 297

SALUS; SALVARI; SALVATOR; SALUTARIS; SALVUS

welstand, heil en welstand, vrijheid, zaligheid, behoudenis; zalig worden; verlosser, zaligmaker; heilzaam, gezond; zalig

salvation, well-being, safety, survival; to be saved; savior; salutary; saved

III/7, 8, 21, 24, 45, 51, 62, 79, 80, 96, 97, 111, 115, 147, 155, 157, 160, 165, 166, 169, 175, 177–79, 185, 188, 197, 198, 205, 244, 247, 275, 290, 297, 313, 317, 334, 345

IV/215, 222, 224, 226, 281, 289, 291, 312

salus communis; salus publica, populi; salus imperii; communis subditorum salus; multitudinis salus; salus reipublicae; salus patriae

general welfare; public well-being, well-being of the people; well-being of the state; common well-being of the subjects; well-being of the multitude; well-being of the state

III/7, 12, 194, 197, 218, 232, 247, 275, 290, 291, 294, 298, 299, 308–10, 312, 332, 344, 346, 354, 359

via salutis, ad salutem; ad salutem necessaria

de weg der zaligheid; ter zaligheid noodzakelijk

the way to salvation; necessary for salvation

III/21, 188, 199

IV/308

SANCTITAS, SANCTIMONIA; SANCTUS

heiligheid; heilig

holiness; holy, sacred, saint

III/20, 24–28, 55, 66, 76, 159–61, 197, 214, 219, 273, 322

IV/209, 210, 213, 216, 262, 282, 283, 285, 288–91, 297, 298, 308, 313, 314, 318

SANITAS; SANARE; SANUS; SANO CORPORE

gezondheid; genezen; gezond

health; to heal; healthy, sensible, sound, sane; healthily

III/7, 41, 47, 61, 62, 71, 73, 80, 82, 83, 87, 90, 91, 122, 125, 136, 148, 149, 155, 187, 189, 190, 195, 198, 240, 241, 244, 278, 282, 283, 286, 287, 291, 311, 320

IV/164, 166, 177, 260, 263, 290, 320, 326, 327, 329, 330

mens sana in corpore sano

sound mind in a sound body

III/71, 278

IV/327, 329

SAPIENTIA; SAPERE; SAPIENS; SAPIENTER

wijsheid; verstand hebben, wijs zijn, wezen; wijs; wijselijk

wisdom; to know, be wise; wise; wisely

III/5, 21, 22, 24, 29, 44, 45, 59, 66–68, 72, 75, 77, 93, 141, 152, 170, 184, 187, 190, 205, 224, 243, 273, 277–79, 282, 291, 296, 299, 322, 336, 356, 360

IV/228, 229, 235, 236, 244, 248, 258, 283, 289, 290, 294, 298, 307, 308, 315, 329, 330

SCELUS; SCELESTUS

schelmstuk, misdrijf; schelm, gruwelijk, boos

crime, wickedness; wicked, criminal

III/7, 97, 171, 173, 179, 180, 182, 185, 197, 203, 244, 245, 300, 314, 316, 329, 354

IV/281, 319, 320, 323

SCIENTIA; SCIRE; NESCIRE; INSCITIA; INSCIUS

wetenschap; weten; niet weten; onwetenheid, onkunde, dwaasheid; onkundig 'knowledge, science; to know, learn; not to know; sheer stupidity; not know(ing), ignorant of

III/5, 10, 12, 16, 22, 23, 26–30, 33, 35, 37, 38, 45, 52, 62, 67, 68, 72, 73, 79–81, 84, 85, 87–89, 92, 93, 95, 98, 100–103, 105, 108–11, 113–15, 126, 135, 137, 139, 140, 144, 150, 157, 159, 163, 167, 168, 170–73, 176, 177, 180, 185, 187, 195, 197, 203, 211, 223, 226, 233, 238, 241, 243, 247, 273–75, 278, 291, 292, 302, 310, 320, 321, 323, 327, 346

IV/171, 260, 266, 268–71, 281, 282, 285, 290, 291, 293, 297, 299, 302, 305, 310, 311, 319, 320

SCRIPTOR; SCRIBERE; SCRIPTUM

schrijver; schrijven; geschrift

writer; to write; text, written text, a writing

III/7, 12, 16, 33–35, 37, 42, 43, 51, 54, 64, 66, 77, 84, 91–93, 96, 99, 100–111, 114, 117–29, 131, 134–51, 153, 155, 159, 160, 162–65, 170, 172–74, 179, 180, 182, 186, 221, 223, 244, 246, 273, 274, 319, 338

IV/175, 177, 207, 216, 220, 234, 241, 263, 267, 280, 281, 282, 288, 293, 300, 301–3, 305, 311, 315, 317, 321, 335

SCRIPTURA; (LITERAE) SACRAE; SACRA PAGINA

Schrift; (Heilige) Schrift; de Heilige bladen

Scripture; Sacred Texts; Holy Scripture

III/9, 10, 15–21, 24–29, 31, 33, 35–37, 42–45, 47, 48, 50, 53–55, 62–64, 68, 69, 71, 73, 76–80, 82, 84, 87–96, 97, 98–120, 123, 124, 127, 129, 132–39, 141, 145–50, 152, 155–74, 176, 177, 179–88, 210, 211, 219, 222–24, 246, 291, 318

IV/166, 167, 209, 210, 215, 218, 225, 228, 282, 296, 298, 300, 309, 310, 324, 327, 328, 330

SECURITAS; SECURUS

veiligheid, zekerheid, verzekerdheid, gerustheid; veilig

security; secure

III/9, 46–48, 71, 73, 94, 98, 116, 156, 191, 200, 203–5, 211, 218, 220, 224, 232, 236, 241, 275, 281, 285, 289, 295, 299, 308, 313–16, 322, 326, 329, 332, 349

IV/234, 284, 288, 289, 292, 293, 295

SEDITIO; SEDITIOSUS; SEDITIOSE

beroerte; oproerig; oproeriglijk

rebellion; rebellious, seditious, turbulent; seditiously

III/7, 9, 201, 219, 227, 231, 234, 236, 237, 241, 242, 244–46, 295–98, 307, 309, 313, 326, 327, 355

SENATUS; SENATOR; SENATORIUS

staatsraad, raad; staatsraad; staatsradelijk senate, assembly of elders; senator; senatorial

III/124, 332, 333, 335–41, 343–45, 348–53, 355, 358

IV/313

SENSATIO; SENSUS

gevoel; zin, (zin en) mening

sensation; meaning, sense (= meaning or sense organ), faculty of judgment (rar.)

III/9, 16, 21–25, 61, 76, 77, 92, 93, 100–102, 104–9, 111–17, 119, 122, 126, 131, 136, 137, 140, 148, 164, 165, 170, 180–82, 185, 210, 239, 275, 283, 287, 293, 302

IV/183, 184, 185, 207, 210, 214

SENTENTIA; SENTIRE

mening, zin en mening; gevoelen, achten, oordelen

opinion, sentence, meaning, statement, sentiment, judgment, view; to think, (w. cum) agree (with)

III/8, 12, 18, 27, 35–38, 41–43, 64, 66, 67, 72, 73, 79–81, 87, 96, 97, 100, 101, 104, 112–15, 117, 118, 120, 127, 129, 131, 151, 153, 155, 158, 171, 173–76, 180, 181, 184, 185, 189, 227, 235, 239–43, 245–47, 280, 281, 287, 290, 301, 302, 304, 305, 310–12, 321, 322, 334, 335, 338, 340–43, 345, 348, 351, 355

IV/166, 169, 173, 174, 181, 202, 208, 210, 214, 225, 241, 246, 251

SERVITUS; SERVITIUM; SERVUS; SERVIRE; SERVILIS; SERVILITER

dienstbaarheid; dienstbaarheid; knecht, slaaf of dienaar; dienen, dienstbar zijn, ten dienste te zijn, dienen; dienstbaar; slaafelijk

bondage; slavery; servant, slave; to serve, to be a slave, be subject to; menial, servile; like a slave

III/7, 23, 25, 41, 54, 59, 62, 65, 66, 74, 75, 89, 121, 123, 131, 132, 138, 194, 195, 205, 216, 226, 231, 283, 296, 298, 300, 308, 310, 312, 315, 317, 319–22, 326, 328, 330, 355, 356, 359

IV/168, 221, 233, 289, 295, 303, 305

SIGNUM; SIGNIFICATIO; SIGNIFICARE

teken; betekenis; beteken, bekent maken, kennen te geven

sign; meaning; to tell, signify, mean

III/21–27, 30–32, 36, 38, 43, 45, 56, 57, 66, 67, 69, 75, 76, 84, 87, 88, 91, 93, 94, 100, 101, 105–, 119, 120, 135–40, 145, 151, 153–56, 160, 162, 165, 169, 186, 193, 198, 199, 208, 213, 216, 219, 300, 334, 349, 356

IV/166, 168, 178, 185, 225, 249, 267, 272, 274, 278, 280, 285, 286, 294, 295, 299, 301, 304, 318

SIMPLICITAS; SIMPLEX

eenvoudigheid, oprechtigheid; enkel, enkeld, enkele, eenvoudig

simplicity; simple

III/10, 30, 36, 66, 91, 92, 111, 116, 126, 129–31, 148, 155, 156, 158, 164, 167–70, 172, 174, 176, 179, 188, 193, 204, 215, 241, 243, 345

IV/181, 183, 184, 190, 210, 224, 230, 266, 283, 335

SINGULARIS; SINGULARITAS

bijzonder, zonderling; bijzonderheid particular, special, singular, unique, peculiar; particularity

III/6, 10, 22, 27, 28, 37–39, 42, 46, 48, 49, 53, 54, 61, 72, 79, 135, 138, 139, 154, 155, 157, 162, 163, 167–69, 177, 188, 200, 205, 210, 214–17, 228, 229, 231, 233, 234, 238, 291, 292, 303, 307, 321, 327, 341, 342, 344, 345, 356, 357

IV/211, 213, 217, 265, 266, 278, 279, 280, 300, 314, 322

SOCIETAS; SOCIARE; SOCIALIS

gezelligheid, gemeente, menigte, gemene Staat, gemeenschap; verenigen, samenvoegen; gezellig

social order, society, alliance; unite, combine with; social

III/47, 48, 50, 64, 69, 72–74, 76, 193, 195, 205, 271, 273, 274, 281, 297, 317, 318, 347

IV/164, 174, 177, 215, 287–89, 296–98, 335

SOMNIUM, INSOMNIUM; SOMNIARE

droom; dromen

dream; to dream (up), dream of, indulge in idle fancies

III/5, 9, 16, 18–20, 24, 33, 34, 36, 47, 98, 129, 132, 134, 168, 180, 184, 275

IV/175, 245, 253, 254, 267, 286, 287, 319, 320

SPECIES; SPECIOSUS

gedaante; schoon

species, appearance, air of plausibility; specious

III/7, 15, 57, 137, 204, 323, 326, 342

IV/208, 209, 215, 216, 257, 261, 297, 333

specie + gen [juris, pietatis, religionis] onder schijn van [recht, godvreuchtigheid, Godsdienst] under the pretext of, under the guise of, with an appearance of [right, piety, religion]

III/6, 7, 12, 118, 178, 196, 212, 225, 227, 285

SPECULATIO; SPECULATIVUS

bespiegeling, beschouwing; beschouwig speculation, contemplation; speculative

III/7, 9, 35, 42, 45, 61, 77, 89, 104, 109, 158, 166–68, 188, 225, 237, 246, 306

IV/260

SPES; SPERARE

hoop; hopen

hope; to hope

III/5, 6, 74, 88, 191–93, 196, 202, 244, 280, 285, 288, 290, 296, 297, 312

IV/209, 222, 223, 236, 312, 317

SPIRITUS; SPIRITUALIA, RES SPIRITUALES

geest; geestelijke dingen

spirit, breath; spiritual things, spiritual matters

III/3, 10, 21, 22, 25, 27–29, 42, 56, 77, 153, 178, 188, 233, 289

IV/281, 284, 294, 295, 298, 319, 320, 323, 329

Spiritus Christi; Christum secundum

Spiritum noscere

Spirit of Christ; to know Christ according to the Spirit

III/79, 178

IV/293, 309, 318, 320

Spiritus Dei, Jehovae

Spirit of God, of Yahweh

III/21, 24–28, 43, 155, 162, 176, 221

Spiritus Sanctus

Holy Spirit

III/27, 28, 88, 97, 98, 102, 103, 105, 155, 158, 187, 188

IV/285, 288, 289, 291, 308, 318

STABILIRE; STABILIS

bevestigen; (vast en) bestandig

to stabilize, establish (firmly); stable

III/49, 54, 65, 69, 73, 88, 235, 275, 296, 299, 307–9, 311, 322, 324, 327, 333, 334, 353, 354

IV/214, 235, 236, 239, 245, 272, 282, 284, 288, 293

STATUS

stand, staat

state, condition, situation, order, constitution

III/20, 88, 189, 196, 198, 227, 285, 290, 291, 293, 295, 302, 303, 308, 316–18, 332, 334, 335, 341, 338, 344, 352

IV/172, 174, 216, 263, 292, 294, 296, 308

status civilis

civil state, order, arrangement

III/192, 196, 198, 276, 284, 285–88, 293, 295, 297, 312, 316, 318

status naturalis

state of nature, natural condition

III/192, 195, 198, 205, 229, 245, 281–83, 285–90, 294, 295, 302, 315, 316

IV/239

STUDIUM; STUDERE

(vlijt en) naarstigheid, verlangen; trachten, zoeken, z. benaarstigen

zeal, devotion, concern; to be eager to, be concerned to, concentrate on, desire

III/6, 7, 12, 29, 41, 43, 44, 54, 75, 81, 88, 91, 97, 98, 101, 102, 111, 114, 127, 128, 149, 159, 166, 172, 174, 176, 181, 187, 212, 225, 226, 235, 241, 246, 274, 296, 299, 304, 310–12, 320, 329, 334, 335, 337, 343–45, 351, 353–56, 359

IV/164, 168, 177, 208, 210, 212–16, 218, 230, 236, 249, 254, 260, 265, 272, 290, 292, 295, 296, 300, 303, 330

sine (absque) partium studio

impartially, without favoritism

III/122, 304, 342

STULTITIA; STULTUS; STULTE

dwaasheid; dwaas

folly, foolishness; fool, foolish; foolishly

III/5, 28, 41, 47, 66, 68, 82, 131, 135, 182, 185, 192, 197, 287, 290, 298

IV/198, 220, 244, 246, 249, 256, 258, 286, 289, 290

SUBDITUS; SUBJICERE (ALSO SUBICERE)

onderdaan, onderzaat; onderwerpen, stellen, staan (onder)

subject (political); to submit, subject (politically), make liable to

III/11, 12, 162, 166, 194–98, 200–205, 207, 210, 212, 216, 220, 221, 233, 237, 239, 240, 242, 284, 285–89, 291, 292, 295, 296, 299, 302, 308, 309, 314, 322, 324, 327, 328, 335, 337, 338, 345, 349, 350, 352, 356

IV/165, 211, 212, 217, 218, 221, 239, 284, 311

SUBSISTERE

bestaan

to subsist, stand firm, continue in existence, survive; make a stand

III/48, 74, 116, 201, 320, 346

IV/181, 185, 186, 216

SUBSTANTIA; SUBSTANTIVUS

zelfstandigheid, wezen, einde; zelfstandig substance; substantive

III/22, 42, 43, 169

IV/173, 247, 257, 261

SUFFRAGIUM; SUFFRAGIUM FERRE

stemmen, toestemming; stemmen geven vote; to vote

III/205, 242, 245, 303–5, 309–12, 315, 316, 321, 325, 328, 332, 334, 335, 338–44, 350, 351, 355, 358, 359

IV/259

SUPERSTITIO; SUPERSTITIOSUS; SUPERSTITIOSE

waangeloof, waangelovigheid, bijgeloof, bijgelovigheid; bijgelovig; waangelooflijk

superstition; superstitious; superstitiously

III/5–7, 10, 12, 29, 41, 53, 97, 129, 137, 139, 141, 158, 159, 165, 199, 215, 222, 223, 242, 345

IV/207, 213, 220, 253, 307, 308, 318, 321–23

SUPPLICIUM

straffing, straf

punishment

III/32, 38, 41, 48, 60, 61, 66, 68, 74, 75, 77, 193, 215, 218, 230, 245, 331, 334, 353

IV/220, 223, 287

SUSPICIO; SUSPICARI; SUSPECTUS

bedenken, vermoeden; vermoeden, menen; verdacht

suspicion; to suspect, suppose, think; suspicious, suspected

III/17, 18, 87, 91, 105, 126, 127, 132, 141, 143–45, 149, 161, 205, 218, 227

IV/260, 292, 299

SYNDICUS

Wetverdediger

Syndic

III/332–45, 350, 354, 355

TEMPLUM

tempel, kerk

temple, house of worship

III/8, 23, 34, 49, 56, 120, 132, 145, 146, 150, 160, 161, 163, 204, 209, 210, 211, 217, 219, 220, 224, 234, 238, 275, 307, 345

IV/316

secundum templum

second temple

III/141, 145

TEMPUS; TEMPORANEUS

tijd; gedurig, tijdelijk

time, tense, date, then; enduring, temporal, for a time

III/6, 10, 23, 26, 29, 35, 36, 38, 48–50, 54–57, 69, 70, 72, 73, 78, 79, 81, 82, 84, 87, 88, 92, 93, 95, 101–4, 106, 107, 109, 110, 112, 117, 119–28, 130, 131, 134, 136, 137, 139–46, 154, 157–61, 163, 170, 182, 213, 216, 218–20, 223, 224, 228, 231, 232, 238, 295, 300–306, 309, 313, 315, 316, 322, 330–33, 335–41, 344, 346, 348, 350, 352–54

IV/164, 165, 178, 185, 203–7, 214–16, 227, 233, 241, 242, 255, 260, 272, 273, 276, 279, 286–88, 290, 295, 296, 299, 300, 302, 305, 317, 318, 322, 330, 335

TENERE

houden

to hold, have, grip, bind, possess

III/5, 8, 10, 11, 29, 35, 36, 39, 42, 43, 45, 48, 72–77, 79, 92, 93, 97, 104, 108, 140, 145, 150, 154, 168–72, 174, 177–84, 186, 190, 192–200, 202–6, 209, 210, 212, 214–18, 220, 221, 223, 224, 226, 228, 229, 231–39, 244, 247, 274, 280, 282–84, 286, 288, 291, 293, 294, 299, 308, 312, 318, 323–25, 330, 333, 336, 338–41, 345–47, 349, 350, 352, 358, 359

IV/217, 225, 239, 242, 247, 260, 261, 265, 293, 300, 302, 330

TESTIMONIUM; TESTARI

voorbeeld, getuigenis; getuigen

testimony, evidence; to testify, be a witness

III/16, 27, 31, 37, 38, 40, 45, 49, 50, 52, 55, 69, 70, 75, 76, 87, 88, 97, 99, 108, 114–16, 121, 122, 124, 125, 127, 141–43, 145, 151, 154, 155, 170, 187, 188, 199, 202, 204, 210, 212, 214, 215, 217, 219, 223, 238, 287, 336

IV/187, 213, 214, 245, 248, 249, 254, 258, 264, 282, 284–86, 295, 303, 320, 321

THEOCRATIA; THEOCRATICUS

Godsbestiering; Godbestierlijke theocracy; theocratic

III/206, 208, 211, 319

THEOLOGIA; THEOLOGUS; THEOLOGASTRI; THEOLOGICUS; THEOLOGIZARE

Godgeleerdheid; Godgeleerde; bijloper; Godgeleerd; —

theology; theologian; foolish theologians; theological; theologize

III/12, 44, 69, 95, 97, 98, 115, 118, 172, 179, 180, 184, 185, 187–89, 212, 218, 237, 274, 278

IV/165, 166, 210, 224, 242, 262, 272, 281, 299, 302

THEORIA; THEORETICUS

bespiegeling; beschouwig, in bespiegling, beschouwer

theory; theoretical, theorist

III/201, 237, 273, 326

IV/167

TIMOR; TIMERE; TIMIDUS

vrees; vrezen; vreesachtig

fear; to fear, be afraid of; timid

III/5, 6, 8, 26, 59, 60, 66, 67, 72, 137, 182, 186, 188, 192–94, 196, 201, 202, 204, 213, 217, 219, 234, 245, 281, 288, 289, 291, 295, 297, 299, 306, 311, 314, 355, 357

IV/221, 222, 236, 251, 266, 268, 312, 326, 352, 357

TOLERANTIA; TOLERARE; TOLERABILIS; INTOLERABILIS, INTOLERANDA

lijdzaamheid; verdragen, uitstaan; verdragelijk, verstaanbaar; onverdragelijk endurance; to undergo, submit to, endure, bear; acceptable, bearable, intelligible; intolerable

III/104, 118, 137, 140, 159, 200, 205, 215, 216, 223, 245, 316

IV/215, 319

TOTUS

geheel

whole

III/5, 26, 47, 189, 191, 231, 277, 279, 284, 287

IV/166, 167, 169–74, 176, 184, 208, 212, 257, 260, 278

TRADITIO; TRADERE

overlevering; overleveren, overgeven, onderwijzen

tradition; to hand down, over, tell of, deliver, impart, give (over), pass on, entrust,

III/16, 21, 23, 34, 40, 41, 93, 105, 116–18, 121–23, 140–44, 146–48, 150, 152, 159, 166, 167, 182, 218, 222, 223, 302, 303, 306, 318

IV/213, 215, 218, 269, 272, 273, 282, 288, 289, 296, 301, 307, 319, 321, 324, 330

TRANQUILLITAS; TRANQUILLITAS ANIMI

gerustheid; gerustheid des gemoeds peace, tranquillity; peace of mind

III/44, 47, 67–71, 88, 242, 243, 283, 285, 288

IV/218, 236, 281, 289, 325

TRANSFERRE

opdragen

to transfer, translate, transform, transcribe

III/11, 24, 123, 142, 144, 299

IV/172, 294

jus (jura) transferre, (summam) potestatem, imperium transferre

to transfer a right (rights), power (sovereignty)

III/193, 195–98, 200, 201, 205–7, 214, 220–22, 229, 230, 239, 242, 285, 294, 298, 299, 308, 309, 310, 313, 314, 317, 319, 325, 328, 331

TRISTITIA; CONTRISTARI; TRISTIS

droefheid; bedroefd werden; bedroefd sadness; to become sad; sad, gloomy

III/6, 25, 32, 33, 91, 284

IV/301

TURBA; TURBARE

menigte, verwarring; ontroeren

crowd, turmoil, confusion; to disturb, agitate, dismay, throw into confusion (pass.) to be in disarray

III/36, 98, 146, 320

IV/166, 216, 255, 258, 274, 292

TURPITUDO; TURPIS

lelijkheid; schandelijk

shamelessness; shameful

III/7, 166, 244, 245, 312, 319, 320, 359

IV/290, 323

TUTELA; TUERI, TUTARI; TUTUS; TUTO

beschutting en bescherming, voogdijschap; in veiligheid te houden; veilig; veiliglijk

protection, guardianship; to protect, defend; safe; safely

III/12, 57, 59, 193, 199, 204, 205, 214, 222, 226, 238, 239, 241, 247, 287, 288, 297, 302, 314, 315, 317, 320, 337, 344, 354, 359

IV/167, 175, 217, 218, 273, 298, 304

TYRANNUS

dwingeland

tyrant

III/200, 202, 212, 220, 226–28, 233, 273, 296, 297, 317, 320, 328

IV/336

UNIVERSUM (N. S. NOUN); UNIVERSUS (ADJ.); UNIVERSALIS; UNIVERSALITER

het Heelal; algemeen; geheel, algemeen; in het algemeen

the universe; whole; universal, general; universally

III/10, 15, 43, 44, 57, 61, 69, 73, 88, 102–4, 162, 165, 173, 176, 177, 181, 184, 185, 189, 191, 193, 199, 209, 210, 212, 214, 218, 219, 229, 230, 234, 277, 279, 284, 291, 331, 338, 350–52, 355, 356

IV/171, 173, 184, 190, 208, 211, 212, 223, 230, 240, 246, 252, 253, 257, 263, 282, 289, 291, 294

USURPARE; USURPATOR

gebruiken, trekken (een recht aan zich); een die ’t hoogste recht aan zich trekt to use, take (for o.s.), usurp (power, rights); usurper

III/15, 21, 22, 25, 26, 107, 138, 169, 204, 206, 207, 213, 215, 221, 228, 239, 247

IV/167

USUS

gebruik

use, usage, (habitual) practice, performance, advantage, practical application

III/9, 69, 136–39, 151, 160, 191, 215, 221, 222, 226, 231, 237, 273, 274

communis usus, usus linguae

ordinary usage, linguistic usage

III/100, 101, 106, 109, 138, 140, 164

usus vitae

gebruik des levens (van het leven) the practice of life, how to conduct our lives, the conduct of life, practical purposes

III/9, 16, 42, 58, 103, 104, 108

UTILITAS; UTI; UTILIS; INUTILIS

nuttigheid; gebruiken; nut(tig); onnut utility, advantage, good; to use; advantage (neuter as a noun), useful, advantageous (as an adj.); useless, of no use

III/7, 12, 22, 31, 46, 54, 59, 70, 73, 74, 79, 98, 102, 104, 112, 116, 141, 187, 188, 190–92, 194–97, 199, 204, 205, 215, 221, 229, 232, 233, 235–37, 240, 244, 246, 279, 280, 285, 287, 288, 290, 297, 308–10, 312, 315, 321, 332, 336, 339, 352, 356

IV/168, 186, 204, 228, 262, 281, 290, 298, 299, 303, 323, 335

VACATIO; VACARE

bezigheid; bezig zijn voor

service; to have time for, give time to, find time for, devote o.s. to

III/114, 237, 301, 303, 308, 316, 317, 332

IV/233, 236, 273, 274

VENDICARE (W. SIBI, UT SUUM)

beschermen (voor zich zelf), aan zich eigen maken, bewaren (voor zich) to claim (for o.s.)

III/281, 284, 315, 326

VERBUM

woord

word, verb, term

III/8, 15–18, 20, 21, 28, 34, 35, 42, 43, 64, 102, 105–7, 128, 129, 137–40, 143, 145, 147, 150, 151, 160, 162, 165, 170, 173, 175, 176, 181, 182, 217, 223, 231, 234, 240, 280, 285, 322

IV/183, 210, 215, 261, 262, 283, 284, 293, 295, 297, 302, 310, 315

verbum Dei

word of God, God’s word

III/10, 17, 89, 97, 143, 158, 159, 160, 161, 162, 163, 164, 182, 185, 186, 236

IV/218, 282, 283, 288, 294, 321, 323, 331

VERITAS; VERACITAS; VERUS; VERAX

waarheid; waarachtigheid; waar, waarachtig; waarachtig

truth; honesty; true (usu.), proper (rar.); true

III/8, 9, 17, 18, 20, 28–31, 36, 41–45, 48–50, 52–54, 56–59, 62, 64–70, 72, 73, 78–80, 82, 84, 87, 88, 97–100, 103, 105–7, 109–12, 114–16, 118–20, 129, 134, 137–39, 142–44, 148, 155–59, 161–63, 167, 170–79, 181–98, 204, 207, 212, 220, 222, 229, 230, 236, 239, 243, 244, 246, 275, 279, 288, 289, 296, 308, 316, 320

IV/166, 179, 180, 188, 189, 198, 209, 210, 213–18, 220, 225, 226, 262–65, 268, 269, 272, 281, 283, 285, 286, 288, 290, 292–95, 297, 298, 300, 308, 310, 318, 320, 324–26, 329

veritas aeterna

eternal truth

III/46, 62–65, 82, 83, 178, 192, 198, 231

IV/208, 211, 224

VICARIUS; VICEM OBTINERE, SUPPLERE

plaatshouder, stathouder; de plaats van verkerijgen, bekleden

representative, deputy, vicar; to play the part of, take the place of, represent

III/204, 234, 237, 302–5, 321, 338, 339, 345, 349, 352

vicem Dei (vice supremi entis) agere, gerere

to act in place of God, as God’s representative or agent, in place of the supreme being

III/15, 38–40, 65, 205, 207, 212

VIGILANTIA; VIGILARE; INVIGILARE

wakkerheid en naerstigheid; in het waken, wakker zijn

vigilance; to be awake, watchful, look out (for)

III/17, 18, 31, 34, 47, 68, 298, 306, 308, 325, 332, 333, 356

VINDEX; VINDICTA; VINDICARE

verdediger; wraak; wreken, verdedigen defender; vengeance, taking vengeance; to avenge, punish, defend, free from

III/11, 104, 188, 199, 218–20, 227, 228, 236, 242, 247, 275, 280, 289, 293, 294, 331, 342, 345

IV/207, 217, 266

VIOLATIO; VIOLARE; VIOLENS; VIOLENTER; INVIOLATUS

verbreking; overtreden; geweldig; met geweld; ongeschonden

violation; to violate, break; violent; violently; inviolate, without infringement

III/41, 59, 74, 194, 195n, 197–99, 201, 213, 218, 220, 225, 227, 230, 239, 240, 244, 245, 271, 282, 286, 293, 294, 295, 321, 322, 330–34, 350, 355, 357

IV/288

VIRTUS

deugd, kracht

virtue, excellence, power, worth, courage

III/9, 22, 24, 26, 27, 35, 41, 46, 48, 50, 52–54, 56, 57, 68, 69, 75, 77, 83, 88, 99, 103, 111, 112, 133, 152, 155, 156, 160, 162, 163, 169, 173, 188, 190, 194, 198, 203, 213–15, 220, 224, 225, 236, 239, 243–45, 275, 279, 284, 295, 296, 299, 310, 312, 316, 320, 324, 327, 336, 353–58

IV/165, 208–10, 212–16, 218, 220–23, 259, 264, 267, 268, 273, 285, 287, 289, 294, 298, 299, 307, 309, 319, 324

VIS

kracht, macht, ontzag, geweld

force, power, violence, strength, vigor

III/11, 18, 22, 24–26, 34, 36, 47, 49, 52, 58, 66, 73–75, 78, 81, 86, 98, 112, 114, 116, 131, 147, 163, 180, 190–92, 193, 195, 205, 206, 209, 210, 215, 224, 228–31, 235, 245, 277, 280, 281, 297, 298, 310, 313, 315, 318, 322, 337

IV/166, 169, 175, 177, 178, 180–83, 185, 204–6, 209, 211, 216–18, 249, 259, 272, 293, 296, 310, 315, 323, 325, 329

VITA; VIVERE; VIVIDUS

leven; leven; levendig en krachtig

life, kind of life; to live; vivid

III/7–9, 11, 16, 21, 25, 29, 31, 33, 39–42, 46–48, 57, 59, 61, 62, 66, 67, 71–73, 76, 77, 79, 97, 101–4, 109, 111, 121, 122, 124–26, 128, 133, 152, 153, 155, 170, 178, 179, 185–87, 190, 191, 194–99, 201, 207, 208, 213, 215–17, 219, 221, 226, 229, 230, 238, 239, 241, 242, 245, 246, 274, 275, 277–83, 285, 286, 295–301, 305, 311, 313, 321, 324, 330–32, 335, 343, 356, 359, 360

IV/166, 171, 176, 187, 189, 190, 207, 208, 221, 216, 219, 235, 236, 242, 247, 248, 254, 259, 260, 263, 281, 283, 285, 287–92, 294, 295, 298, 314, 317, 318, 325, 330, 334

ratio vivendi, modus vivendi

way (or manner) of life, of living

III/41, 42, 46, 58, 59, 69, 78–80, 97, 162, 167, 170, 171, 177, 190, 285, 295

vita vera [= ratio bene vivendi, III/41] true life

III/30, 41, 43–45, 48, 66, 69, 171, 177, 178

VITIUM; VITIOSUS

gebrek, zonde; bedorven

vice, defect, moral failing; defective

III/68, 118, 135, 137, 149, 217, 225, 240, 243, 273, 274, 278, 295, 303, 312, 319, 320, 353–56

IV/165, 208, 209, 213, 216, 218, 232, 247, 273, 289, 294, 295, 317, 330

VOLUNTAS; VOLITIO; VELLE

wil; willing; willen

will, desire; volition; to will (to), want to, wish, be willing to, claim, maintain

III/9, 10, 12, 17–19, 22, 25, 33–35, 37, 39, 42, 43, 45, 52–56, 59, 62, 63, 65, 70, 71, 81–86, 89, 94, 96, 99, 101, 103, 105, 106, 108, 110, 112, 114, 119, 125, 126, 134, 137, 139, 140, 142, 144, 148–51, 154–59, 162–64, 173, 175, 176, 180, 182, 185–87, 191–95, 198, 203, 204, 206, 208, 209, 212–14, 217–22, 224, 228, 232, 234–36, 239, 243, 244, 246, 247, 273, 275, 277–84, 286, 287, 289–93, 296–98, 301, 302, 304, 307–10, 314, 315, 318–22, 325–28, 331, 332, 338, 343–45, 349–52, 358, 359

IV/166, 167, 184–87, 191, 194, 199–201, 208, 210, 211, 215, 217, 219, 223, 229, 230, 233, 234, 236, 242, 244, 251, 252, 254–56, 258, 259, 261, 263, 265–68, 270, 272, 273, 279, 286, 289–91, 293–95, 299, 300, 304, 305, 310, 312–14, 318, 319, 323–27, 330, 331, 333, 334

VULGUS; VULGARE; VULGARIS; VULGO

’t volk, ’t gemeen (volk); gemeen genoech is; gemeen; gemeenlijk

common people; to make widely known, publish, spread, circulate; common, ordinary, popular; commonly

III/6, 8, 10, 12, 15, 16, 21, 25, 29, 36, 37, 48, 59, 65, 70, 74, 78, 79, 81, 82, 84, 89, 90, 92, 93, 96, 97, 100, 105, 114–16, 129, 151, 166, 172–74, 179, 180, 183, 241, 244, 246, 319, 320, 326

IV/166, 208, 209, 211, 251, 258, 272, 300, 302, 317, 324, 328

ZADUCAE

Zaducae, Tsadducae

Saduceen, Zaduceen

Sadducees

III/146, 150, 159, 225

Biblical and Talmudic References

When Spinoza quotes from the Bible, I translate his Latin. I do not simply substitute the wording of some standard translation of the Bible. But I always check against the KJV and the RSV, and if there seems to be a significant difference between Spinoza’s translation and those generally accepted nowadays, I try to note that fact. Where it does not seem that any distortion will be introduced, my choice of words may be guided by their choices. Where reference is made to an entire book of Scripture, rather than to a specific passage in it, the reference will be given in the Index of Proper Names.

Old Testament

Genesis 1:2, III/24, 39

2:7, III/25

2:17, III/63, 66

3:8, III/37

4:5, III/5

4:7, III/42

4:8, III/141

4:9, III/37

6:2, III/24

6:3, III/25

6:11–13, III/37

7:11, III/94

9:13, III/89

10, III/119

12:3, III/52

12:6, III/119

14:14, III/121

14:18–20, III/48

15:8, III/30

15:1, III/48

16:9, III/29

18:19, III/38

18:21, III/38

18:24, III/38

20:6, III/18

22:11–18, III/19

22:14, III/120

26:5, III/49

28:16–19, III/160

28:20, III/131

29:35, III/130

31:13, III/131

31:29, III/37

34, III/131

35:1, III/131

35:2–3, III/39

36:31, III/122, 130

37:5–10, III/19

38:1, III/130

41:38, III/24

46:21, III/131

47:7–9, III/131

47:31, III/108

Exodus 1:7–11, III/89

3:12, III/30

3:13, III/170

3:14, III/38

3:18, III/38

4:1, III/38

4:8, III/38

4:21, III/94

4:24, III/52

5:22–23, III/169?

6:3, III/168, 170

7:1, III/15

7:3, III/94

9:10, III/90

10:2, III/88

10:13, 19, III/90

11:8, III/33

14:21, III/90

14:27, III/90

14:29, III/75

15:10, III/90

15:11, III/39

16:27, III/230

16:34, III/121

17:14, III/122

18:11, III/39

18:23, III/208

19:4–5, III/206

19:8, III/206, 230

19:9, III/75

19:18, III/93

19:20, III/183

20:1–17, III/18

20:4–5, III/40

20:5, III/38, 183

20:18–21, III/179

20:22–23:33, III/122

21:23–25, III/103

24:3, 7, III/206

24:4, 7, III/122, 205

24:10, III/19

25:22, III/17

31:3, III/24

32, III/40

32:1–6, III/87

32:19, III/161

33:2–3, III/40

33:11, III/20, 121

33:16, III/40

33:18–23, III/19, 20n, 40

34:6, III/50

34:6–7, III/40, 171

34:7, III/42

34:14, III/183

Leviticus 5:1, III/233

18:27–28, III/55

19:17, III/27

19:17–18, III/233

24:19–20, III/103

25:30, III/136

Numbers 1:1, 2:1, III/121

6:23, III/49

7:11–12, III/132

8:17, III/218

11:17, III/28

11:14–15, III/207

11:28, III/207

12:3, III/121

12:6–8, III/20, 121

14:24, III/22

15:36, III/230

16:3, III/219

16:31–35, III/219

21:12, III/122

22:6, III/51

22:22–35, III/19

24:13, III/52

24:16, III/52

26:38–40, III/131

27:18, III/22

27:19, III/208

27:21, III/208

27:23, III/208

31:14, III/121

33:2, III/122

Deuteronomy 1:1–5, III/118, 128

1:5, III/122

2:1, 17, III/121

2:3–4, 12, III/127

3:11, III/120

4:4–7, III/44

4:6, III/26

4:7, III/49

4:8, III/44

4:12, III/183

4:15, III/181

4:19, III/39

4:24, III/100, 183

4:32, III/44

5:1–21, III/18

5:9, III/38, 183

5:22, III/93

5:24–27, III/206–7

6:4, III/181

6:7, III/212

7, III/126

8:19–20, III/55

9:6–7, III/45

9:20, III/127

9:26, III/121

10:6–9, III/127

10:8, III/218

10:14–15, III/39

10:15, III/44

13:1–5, III/87, 96, 186

13:2, III/31

13:8–9, III/233

16:16, III/216

17:7, III/233

17:9, 11, III/237

17:11–12, III/116

17:14, III/126

17:16–17, III/41

17:19, III/210

18:15–22, III/186, 211

18:22, III/18

21:5, III/212

23:6, III/52

27:8, III/119

27:15–26, III/119

28:36, 68, III/126

29:14, III/122, 123

30:6, III/159

30:19, III/66

31:9, III/119, 123

31:9–13, III/212

31:16, 17, III/126

31:21, III/152, 219

31:27, III/152

32:8–9, III/39

32:44–34:12, III/121

33:10, III/116

34, III/119

34:5, III/121

34:6, III/121

34:10, III/20, 121

Joshua 1:1, III/125

1:1–9, III/208

2:11, III/22

5:12, III/122

6:26, III/222

6:27, III/124

8:30–32, III/119

8:35, III/124

10:11, III/36

10:12–13, III/92

10:13, III/125

10:14, III/125

11:15, III/124

13:22, III/53

15:13, III/124

15:63, III/124

16:10, III/124

22:10–33, III/124–25

23:1–2, III/124

24:10, III/52

24:25, 26, III/123

24:29, III/124

24:31, III/124

Judges 1:1, III/126

1:1–3, III/210

1:29–30, III/124

2:6ff., III/131, 133

2:6–23, III/125

2:18, III/132

3:11, 5:31, 8:28, III/224

3:30, III/224

6:17, III/30

6:34, III/24

8:3, III/22

13:8–20, III/19

14:6, 19, III/24

15:14, III/24

15:15, III/110

16:30, III/110

17–21, III/134

18:29, III/121

21:18, III/222

21:22, III/136

Ruth 1:1, III/126

4:18–22, III/132

1 Samuel 3:4–9, III/18

3:21, III/17

7:13–14, III/133

8:4–5, III/219, 321

9:3–10, 15–16, III/89

9:7–8, III/52

9:9, III/125

11:7, III/23

13, III/133

13:1, III/133, 136

13:15, III/208

14:24, III/222

15:3, III/220

15:29, III/42, 184

16:14, III/24

16:17–19, III/131

17:55–18:2, III/131

24, III/131

24:14, III/31

25:24–31, III/31

25:30, III/208

26, III/131

26:19, III/214–15

27:7, III/133

30:12, III/21

2 Samuel 5:24, III/136

6:2, III/136

7, III/129

7:6, III/129

7:10, III/129

8:14, III/122

12:30, III/120

13:37, III/136

14:15, III/138

14:22, III/138

15, III/313

16:23, III/138

19:22–23, III/207

24:1, III/31

1 Kings 3:12, III/45

6:1, III/132

7:23, III/36

8:27, III/183

10:25–11:8, III/41n

11:29–39, III/210

11:41, III/125

14:19, III/125

14:29, III/125

15:14, III/223

18:4, 13, III/225

20:13, III/33

21:10, III/94

22:8, III/33

22:19, 21, III/28, 43

22:23, III/31

22:48, III/122

2 Kings 1:17, III/134

2:11, III/93, 110

2:16, III/35

3:9, III/122

4:34–35, III/90

8:16, III/134

8:20, III/122

14:25, III/144

17:25ff., III/39

18:17, 20, 22, 32, III/129

20:1–11, III/30

20:8–12, III/36

21:3–9, III/217

25:7, III/148–49

25:27–30, III/126, 148

1 Chronicles 1:43–53, III/130

2:11–15, III/132

2:21–22, III/120

3:17–24, III/141

3:17–19, III/148

4:3, 8, III/146

6:13–15, III/146

8:1ff, III/131

9, III/141

9:17, III/141

17, III/129

17:5, III/129

17:9, III/129

21:16, III/19

23:4–5, 6, III/238

28:11–12, III/238

2 Chronicles 8:13–15, III/238

14:2, III/223

16:10, III/223

18:7, III/33

19:8, III/210

21:12, III/151

22:2, III/134

26:22, III/142

28:5–15, III/224

32:19, III/39

32:32, III/129

33:10, 18, 19, III/144

34, III/33

Ezra 1:8, III/146

2, III/148

2:2, III/146

2:59–63, III/148

2:63, III/146

4:12–15, III/215

5:14, III/146

7:1, III/146

7:6, 10, III/127

Nehemiah 1:2, III/146

2:64, III/147

5:14, III/146

7:5, III/147, 148

7:66, III/147

8:1–12:26, III/145

8:8, III/127

9:20, III/26

10:2, III/146

10:25, III/146

11:19, III/141

12:1, III/146

12:10–11, III/146

12:22, III/146

12:23, III/146

12:26, III/146

12:46–47, III/145

13:2, III/52

Esther 9:20–22, III/145

9:31[–32], III/145, 146

10:2, III/145

Job 2:9, III/94

27:3, III/25

28:28, III/50, 54

31:12, III/101

32:8, III/22

33:4, III/26

34:14, III/25

Psalms 15, III/71

24, III/71

33:6, III/26

33:15, III/50

40:6, 8, III/70

51:12–13, III/25

73, III/87

88, III/141

89, III/142

104:4, III/89

105:24, III/89

135:17, III/21

139:7, III/26

139:21–22, III/214

143:10, III/26

145:9, III/50

145:18, III/50

147:15, 18, III/89

148:6, III/95

Proverbs 1:23, III/22

2:3–6, III/67

2:9–11, III/67-68

13:14, III/67

16:22, III/41, 66, 68

16:32, III/22

24:21, III/234

25:1, III/142

25:28, III/22

Ecclesiastes 1:9–11, III/95

3:19, III/23

3:19–21, III/87

7:20, III/52, 178

9:2–3, III/87, 229, 231

12:7, III/23

Isaiah 1:1, III/142

1:10–17, III/69

1:11–20, III/33

6, III/20, 34

11:2, III/24

13:10, III/93

13:13, III/94

16:9, III/51

19:19, 20, 21, 25, III/51

29:10, III/22

30:1, III/22

33:11, III/22

36–39, III/129

36:5, III/129

38:1–8, III/30, 36

40:7, III/24

40:13, III/25

40:19–20, III/34

44:8, III/34

48:16, III/27

48:21, III/94

57:20, III/67

58:8, 14, III/71

63:10, III/25

63:11, III/26

Jeremiah 1:5, III/51

7:14, III/160

8:8, III/161

9:23, III/171

18:8–10, III/42, 184

21, III/142, 143

21:8–10, III/143

22:15, III/171

22:24–30, III/142, 148

25, III/143

26, III/143

28:9, III/32

29:7, III/231, 233

31:33, III/159

31:35–36, III/95

31:36, III/55

32:18, III/42

32:31, III/217

34:5, III/149

36:2, III/143

37, III/143

38, III/143

45:2–51:59, III/143

48:31, III/51

48:36, III/51

49:7–22, III/34

Lamentations 3:25–30, III/103

Ezekiel 1, III/34

1:1–3, III/143

1:4, III/28

1:12, III/22

2:2, III/22

3:14, III/33

14:9, III/31

14:14, III/144

18:14–20, III/42

20:25, III/217, 219

20:32–44, III/55

20:38, III/56

21:26, III/33

37:9, III/23

37:14, III/25

42:16–19, III/23

Daniel 1:7, III/146

3:12, III/200

4:8, III/24

6:8, III/307

6:15, III/200

7:9, III/28

10:14, III/35

12:2, III/150

12:8, III/34

Hosea 8:6, III/34

10:5, III/160

13:2, III/34

Joel 2:13, III/42

Amos 4:11, III/23

5:5, III/160

5:21–24, III/34

Jonah 4:2, III/50

Micah 2:7, III/26

Zephaniah 3:12–13, III/56

Haggai 2:5, III/26

Zechariah 1:9, III/34

4:6, III/26

7:12, III/26

14:7, III/93

Malachi 1:6, III/223

1:10–11, III/49

2:7–8, III/273

2:8, III/116

Apocrypha

1 Maccabees 1:59–60, III/140

16:24, III/146

2 Maccabees 6:18–31, III/200

New Testament

Matthew 2, III/32

3:16, III/28

5–7, III/156

5:28, III/70

5:4, III/103

5:17, III/103

5:39, III/103

5:40, III/232

5:43, III/233

6:33, III/103

10:1, III/233

10:19–20, III/154

10:28, III/234

12:26, III/43

13:10, III/65

18:10, III/43

24:24, III/31, 96

Mark 10:21, III/48n

John 1:10, III/163

1:32, III/28

9:6–7, III/90

Acts 2:3, III/28

9:3, III/28

15:37–40, III/154

Romans 1:11, III/153

1:13, III/154

1:20, 24–32, III/68, 198

2:25–26, III/54

3:1–2, III/54

3:5, III/42, 65

3:9, III/54

3:19–20, III/59

3:27–28, III/157

3:28, III/65, 151

3:29, III/54

4:15, III/54, 190?

6:19, III/42, 65

7:6, III/65

8:9, III/65

8:18, III/151

9:10, III/42

9:18, III/65, 198

9:21, III/198, 284, IV/312, 326

13:8, III/168

15:15, III/153

15:20, III/157

15:22, III/154

1 Corinthians 3:1–2, III/65

7:6, III/151

7:25, III/152

7:40, III/151, 155

9:19–23, III/54, 88, 158

10:15, III/152

14:6, III/151, 155

16:12, III/154

2 Corinthians 3:3, III/162, 222

Galatians 2:11, III/158

5:22, III/80, 187

1 Timothy 2:7, III/156

2 Timothy 1:11, III/156

Philemon 8, III/156

Hebrews 11:21, III/108

James 2:17, 18, III/175

2:24, III/157

2 Peter 2:15–16, III/52

I John 2:3-4, III/176

4:7–8, III/175

4:12–16, III/171,

4:13, III/3, 175, 176, IV/318a

Jude 11, III/52

The Talmud

On the Sabbath I/13b, II/30b, 150, III/41, 150

Of the Scribes 6, III/140

Baba Bathra 14b, 15a, III/118n, 144n

Index of Proper Names

Aaron III/15, 87, 208, 209, 234

Abigail III/31

Abimelech III/18, 51, 132

Abraham III/19, 30, 37, 48, 49, 119, 120, 169

Abraham ben David, R., III/150

Adam III/37, 61, 63, 66

Aesop IV/175

Ahab III/31, 33, 43

Alfakhar, R. Jehuda III/19n, 181, 182

Alexander the Great III/6, 96, 204, 213, 299n

Ambrosius III/228

Amsterdam III/246

Aquinas III/11n, 86n

Aram III/43

Ariosto III/110n

Aristotle III/80, 114, 168; IV/261

Asa III/223

Asaph III/87

Augustine III/86n

Augustus III/204

Auzoutus, IV/168

Babylon (see also rex Babiloniae) III/141, 233

Bacon (Verulam) IV/189

Balaam III/19, 51, 52

Bomberg Bible III/139

Boyle IV/164, 167, 169, 176, 177, 276

Cain III/33, 37, 42, 43

Calvin III/6n, 8n, 9n, 66n, 99n, 112n

Canaan III/119

Christ III/21, 28, 31, 32, 54, 64, 65, 68, 70, 71, 76, 90, 103, 104, 152, 154–58, 163, 164, 166, 172, 178, 225, 233, 234, 289

Chronicles III/134, 141, 149

Cleon III/204

Cogitata metaphysica IV/268

Colbert IV/302

Colerus III/172n

Costa, Uriel da III/23n, 150n

Counterremonstrants III/246

Curtius, Quintus III/6, 204, 213, 299

Cushan-rishathaim III/132, 133

Cyrus III/141

Darius, III/213

David III/19, 31, 39, 120, 131, 132, 136, 207, 214, 220, 238, 313

Daniel III/40, 144–46, 200

Darda III/29

Democritus IV/261, 262

Descartes III/30n, 31n, 58n, 62n, 89n, 93n, 102n, IV/166, 167, 168, 174, 177, 193, 197, 220, 267–69, 332, 333

Descartes’ Principles III/84, IV/167, 181, 199, 302

Deuteronomy III/127, 128

Dinah, III/131

Ecclesiastes, III/41, 142, 150

English, the IV/175

Egypt III/40

Eleazar III/200, 208, 209

Eli III/17

Elijah III/35, 93, 110, 151

Elisha III/35, 90

Enoch III/51

Epicurus IV/261

Esther III/145, 146

Ethics III/275, 276, 284

IV/268, 271, 277–80, 302, 334

Euclid III/111, IV/261

Eusebius III, 110n

Ezekiel III/33, 40, 143, 150, 154

Ezra III/126–29, 130, 132, 140, 141, 145, 146, 148, 149

Ferdinand (King of Spain) III/56, 322

Genesis III/149, 170

Gersonides (Rabbi Levi ben Gerson) III/132

Gideon III/24, 30, 132, 212

Hagar III/29

Halevi III/169n

Hanani III/223

Hananiah III/32

Hananias III/41

Hannibal III/295

Hebrews III/110

Heman III/29

Hevelius, IV/165, 168

Hezekiah III/30

Hobbes III/16n, 43n, 59n, 73n, 106n, 121n, 144n, 167n, 195n

Hollanders III/344, IV/175

Horace III/8n

Hosea III/143

Huet III/141n, 142n, IV/331, 335

Huyghens IV/165, 166, 168, 174, 177, 301, 302, 305

Ibn Ezra III/15n, 39, 53n, 66n, 119, 118–20, 122n, 126n, 130n, 131, 132n, 144–46, 169n

Isaac III/169

Isaiah III/40, 129, 142, 154

Israel III/39

Jacob III/39, 130, 131, 169

James III/157

Jarghi, R. Salomo III/15 [= R. Solomon ben Isaac]

Jeconiah [= Jehoiakin] III/141, 148, 149

Jehoiakim III/143

Jehoiakin III/141, 142

Jehova III/18

Jephtha III/132

Jeremiah III/103, 104, 142, 143, 151, 154, 233

Jeroboam III/210

Jerusalem III/32, 33, 39, 210, 215, 224

Jethro III/39

Job III/50, 110, 144

John III/174n, 175n

Jonah III/41, 144, 153

Jonathan (Chaldean paraphrast) III/123

Joseph (the son of Jacob) III/19, 24, 130, 131

Joseph (the son of Shem Tob) III/80

Josephus III/42, 49n, 96, 118n, 132, 133, 140, 143, 146, 223

Joshua III/117, 123–26, 128, 132, 133, 207–11

Judaea III/49

Judah III/130

Judges III/125, 126, 128

Kalchol III/29

Kepler IV/176

Kimchi III/136

Kings III/117, 125, 126, 128, 134

Kircher, Athanasius, III/164, 166, 167

Laban III/37

Leibniz IV/302, 303, 305, 331

Leicester III/228

Leo Hebraeus 168n, 170n

Letter 12 IV/331, 332

Levi, III/131

Livy, III/353

Lucas III/48n

Lucretius III/5n, IV/261

Luther III/99n, 121n

Maccabee, Judas III/141, 146

Machiavelli III/296, 353

Mahomet/Mahumet/Mahumed, IV/218, 225, 226, 322

Maimonides III/16n, 17n, 18n, 19n, 20n, 21n, 29n, 33n, 42n, 43n, 62n, 66n, 78n, 79, 80, 89n, 93n, 94n, 95n, 101n, 109n, 113–16, 118n, 150, 150n, 158n, 181, 184

Manasseh, III/217

Manasseh ben Israel III/9n, 18n, 19n, 23n, 31n, 42n, 131n, 133n, 134n, 136n, 142n, 146n, 147n, 148n, 168n, 169n, 170n, 181n, 183n

Manoa III/19

Manuel I (King of Portugal) III/56

Melchizedek III/48, 49

Meyer III/15n, 45n, 102n, 181n, 184n

Micaiah III/28, 31, 33, 43

Morteira, Saul III/55n

Moses III/10, 15, 17, 19, 20, 21, 27, 30, 31, 33, 38–40, 44, 52, 53, 64, 70, 75, 79, 87, 100, 101, 104, 105, 113, 118–27, 132, 144, 150–54, 159, 161, 163, 168–71, 174, 186, 201, 203, 205–11, 213, 219, 222, 230, 234, 237, 238

Mount Sinai III/179, 183

Munster, Bishop of, IV/175

Nahum III/33

Nebuchadnezzar III/23, 24, 33, 200

Nehemiah III/145, 146

Noah III/37, 51, 79, 89

Obadiah III/225

Oldenburg IV/276

Orange, Prince of IV/175

Orlando furioso III/110

Ovid III/110, IV/266n

Palestine III/37

Paul III/28, 54, 59, 65, 68, 80, 88, 151, 153, 154, 157, 158, 160n, 168, 169, 174n, 178n, 187, 190, 198

Persians III/221

Perseus III/110

Pharaoh III/15, 24, 33

Philo Judaeus III/66n, 118n, 141, 142, 146

Pilate III/225

Plato III/168, IV/261

Pliny (the Elder) III/28n

Proverbs III/150

Quintus Curtius III/6, 7n

Rashi (R. Shelomo Yitschaki) III/149

Rehoboam III/210

Remonstrants III/246

Jan Rieuwerts IV/265

Romans III/153

Royal Society IV/164, 174

Ruth III/117, 126, 128

Sallust, III/309

Samson III/24, 110, 132, 212

Samuel III/17, 132, 133, 212, 220

Satan III/43, 144

Saul III/24, 39, 42, 133, 134, 214, 220

Seder Olam III/130n, 131n, 147n, 150n

Seneca III/74, 194

Septuagint III/141

Serrarius IV/167

Sextus Empiricus IV/260

Simeon, III/131

Socrates IV/261

Solomon III/23, 29, 36, 41, 45, 66–68, 72, 87, 132, 224, 229, 231, 234, 238

Tacitus III/5n, 6n, 7n, 12n, 56n, 204, 215, 218, 314, 316

Talmud III/138, 139, 146, 150

Tamar III/130

Terence III/5n, 12n, 75n, 104n, 111n, 148n, 159n, 180n, 187n, 188n

Thales IV/228

Theodosius III/228

Theological-Political Treatise III/276, 345 IV/166, 167, 276, 301, 303, 331, 335

Torquatus, Manlius III/232

Treatise on the Emendation of the Intellect IV/268n

Tremellius III/68, 151

Tschirnhaus IV/274, 276, 301–4

Ulysses III/307

Vespasian III/204, 215

Vitellius III/204

Voetius IV/220

Vossius IV/196

Zedekiah III/142, 143, 148, 149

Zerubbabel III/141

Works Cited

Although the editions listed below are the ones I have used, where possible I have made my references in a way which will be independent of the particular edition used, so that someone who has access to another edition, but not the one I have used, will be able to follow the reference. So, for example, references to Maimonides’ Guide of the Perplexed are to the Part and Chapter of the text, and not to the Volume and Page of the Pines edition.

Editions of Spinoza’s Works¹

A = Theologisch-Politiek Traktaat, tr. & annot. by Fokke Akkerman, 2nd printing, with corrections, Amsterdam: Wereldbibliotheek, 2002.

AHW = Briefwisseling, tr. & ed. by Fokke Akkerman, H. G. Hubbeling, and A. W. Westerbrink, Amsterdam: Wereldbibliotheek, 2nd edition, 1992. Though this translation disclaims text-critical completeness, so long as we have no PUF edition of the correspondence, this will remain an important source for emendations of Gebhardt’s text of the correspondence.

ALM = Tractatus Theologico-Politicus, Traité Theologico-Politique, a new critical edition of the text by Fokke Akkerman, tr. by Jacqueline Lagrée and Pierre-François Moreau. Vol. III of the edition of Spinoza’s works published in Paris by Presses Universitaires de France (Paris: PUF), 1999–. In addition to the notes by the principal editors, this edition also has notes by Alexandre Matheron.

Appuhn = Oeuvres, tr. by Ch. Appuhn, 4 vols., Paris: Garnier, 1966 ed.

Ashkenazi = Joël Askenazi and Jocelyne Askenazi-Gerson (tr.), Abrégé de grammaire hébraique, Paris: Vrin 1987 (reprint of an edition first published in 1968).

Bartuschat 1994 = Politischer Traktat/Tractatus politicus, Latin text ed. & tr. by Wolfgang Bartuschat, Hamburg: Felix Meiner Verlag, 1994.

Bartuschat 2012 = Theologisch-politischer Traktat, ed. & tr. by Wolfgang Bartuschat, Hamburg: Felix Meiner Verlag, 2012.

Collected Works = The Collected Works of Spinoza, ed. & tr. by Edwin Curley, Vol. I, Princeton University Press, 1985.

Cristofolini = Paolo Cristofolini, Trattato politico, edition of the Latin text with an Italian translation, 2nd ed., Pisa: Edizioni ETS, 2011.

Dominguez 1986a = Tratado teológico-político, tr. & notes by Atilano Dominguez, Madrid: Alianza Editorial, 1986.

Dominguez 1986b = Tratado político, tr. & notes by Atilano Dominguez, Madrid: Alianza Editorial, 1986.

Dominguez 1988 = Correspondencia, tr. & notes by Atilano Dominguez, Madrid: Alianza Editorial, 1988.

Droetto/Giancotti = Trattato teologico-politico, tr. & notes by Antonio Droetto and Emilia Giancotti, Turin: Giulio Einaudi, 1984.

Droetto = Trattato politico, tr. with commentary and notes by Antonio Droetto, Turin: Edizioni Ramella, 1958.

Gebhardt = Spinoza, Opera, ed. by C. Gebhardt. Carl Winter Universitätsverlag published the first four volumes of Gebhardt’s edition in Heidelberg in 1925. Gebhardt’s editing of the text has received just criticism, but his account of the formation of the text remains the basis for subsequent discussion. Though now being superseded by the PUF edition, this is still the best available complete² edition of the original language texts.

In 1987 Carl Winter published a fifth volume, containing no additional works of Spinoza’s, but making available an extremely useful commentary on the two political treatises which Gebhardt had been working on before his death in 1934, supplemented by an extended discussion of twentieth-century commentary on the political treatises by Norbert Altwicker.

Gebhardt/Gawlick = Theologisch-Politischer Traktat, tr. by C. Gebhardt, rev. by Günter Gawlick, Hamburg: Felix Meiner, 1984.

Gebhardt/Walther 1986 = Spinoza, Briefwechsel, third edition of Gebhardt’s translation, enlarged by Manfred Walther to accommodate more recent findings, 1986.

MBG = Spinoza, Premiers Écrits, Tractatus de intellectus emendatione/Traité de la réforme de l’entendement, text established by Filippo Mignini, trans. by Michelle Beyssade; Korte Verhandeling/Court Traité, text by Filippo Mignini, trans. by Joel Ganault, Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 2009.

Meijer = W. Meijer (ed.), Nachbildung der im Jahre 1902 noch erhaltenen eigenhändigen Briefe des Benedictus Despinoza, The Hague: Mouton, 1903.

Moreau = Tractatus politicus/Traité politique, Latin text, tr. by Pierre-François Moreau, Éditions Réplique, 1979. Includes an exhaustive index.

OP = Spinoza’s Opera posthuma, a photographic reproduction of the posthumous works, ed. by Pina Totaro, pref. by Filippo Mignini, publ. in Macerata, Italy: Quodlibet, 2008.

NS = Spinoza’s Nagelate Schriften, a xerographic reprint of the Dutch version of the OP, available from Proquest, in Ann Arbor, MI. (UMI Books on Demand).

Pléiade = Spinoza, Oeuvres complètes, ed. by Caillois, Francès & Misrahi, Paris: Bibliothèque de la Pléiade, 1954.

PR = Spinoza, Tractatus politicus/Traité politique, a new critical edition of the text by Omero Proietti, with translation and notes by Charles Ramond, and additional notes by Pierre-François Moreau and Alexandre Matheron. Vol. V of the PUF edition of Spinoza’s works, 2005.

RT = Spinoza, De Rechtzinnige Theologant, of Godgeleerde Staatkundige Verhandlinge, purportedly published in Hamburg in 1693 by Henricus Koenraad. A Dutch translation of the TTP, usually ascribed to Jan Glazemaker. For helpful discussion see Akkerman 2005.

Shirley 1995 = Spinoza, The Letters, tr. by Samuel Shirley, intr. and notes by Steven Barbone, Lee Rice, and Jacob Adler, Indianapolis: Hackett, 1995.

Shirley 1998 = Spinoza, Tractatus Theologico-Politicus, tr. by Samuel Shirley, intr. by Seymour Feldman, Indianapolis: Hackett, 1998.

Shirley 2000 = Spinoza, Political Treatise, tr. by Samuel Shirley, intr. and notes by Steven Barbone and Lee Rice, Indianapolis: Hackett, 2000.

Shirley 2002 = Spinoza, The Complete Works, tr. by Samuel Shirley, ed. by Michael Morgan, Indianapolis: Hackett, 2002. When I refer to “the Hackett editors,” I’m generally referring to the annotation in this edition, though some of it may have been carried over from previous editions of Shirley’s translations, involving different editors.

Silverthorne/Israel = Spinoza, Theological-Political Treatise, ed. by Jonathan Israel, tr. by Michael Silverthorne and Jonathan Israel, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007.

Spruit/Totaro = The Vatican Manuscript of Spinoza’s ETHICA, ed. by Leen Spruit and Pina Totaro, Leiden: Brill, 2011.

Totaro = Spinoza, Tractatus theologico-politicus/Trattato teologic-politico, text (from Akkerman’s critical edition in ALM), tr. and notes by Pina Totaro, Naples: Bibliopolis, 2007.

Van Vloten = Johannes van Vloten (ed.), Benedicti de Spinoza Opera quae supersunt onmia: Supplementum, Amsterdam: Frederick Muller, 1860. (The 1862 edition is available on Google Books.)

V-L 1914 = Opera quotquot reperta sunt, ed. by J. van Vloten and J. P. N. Land, 3rd ed., 3 vols. The Hague: M. Nijhoff, 1914. The standard edition before Gebhardt.

Wernham = Spinoza, The Political Works, ed. & tr. by A. G. Wernham, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1965. A reprint of the original edition of 1958 with some corrections. Contains a translation of the political portions of the TTP and the complete TP. Very useful, in spite of its limitations.

Wolf 1966 = The Correspondence of Spinoza, ed. & tr. by A. Wolf, New York: Russell and Russell, 1966 (reprint of an edition first published by George Allen and Unwin, 1928).

Wolf 1935 = “An Addition to the Correspondence of Spinoza,” Philosophy 10 (1935): 200–204.

Zac = Spinoza, Traité politique, texte, traduction, introduction et notes, by Sylvazin Zac, Vrin, 1987 (reprint of an edition which appeared originally in 1968).

Biblical and Talmudic Materials

ABD = The Anchor Bible Dictionary, ed. by David Noel Freedman, New York: Doubleday, 1992, 6 vols.

Anchor Bible. This series of translations with commentary, done by a group of Protestant, Catholic and Jewish scholars, and not sponsored by any ecclesiastical organization, aims to make the results of the best modern biblical scholarship available to the general reader. So far as I can judge, it succeeds admirably in achieving that goal. I have cited its volumes frequently. Particular volumes cited are:

Anchor Genesis = Genesis, intr., tr., and notes by E. A. Speiser, New York: Doubleday, 1964.

Anchor Exodus = Exodus, intr., tr., and commentary by William H. C. Propp., 2 vols., vol. 1, Exodus 1–18, 1998, vol. 2, Exodus 19–40, New York: Doubleday, 2006.

Anchor Numbers = Numbers 1–20, ed. & tr. by Baruch A. Levine, New York: Doubleday, 1993.

Anchor Samuel = 1 & 2 Samuel: a new translation, with introd., notes & commentary by P. Kyle McCarter, Jr. Garden City, NY: Doubleday, Vol. I, 1980, vol. II, 1984.

Anchor Kings = I Kings, tr. & comm. by Mordechai Cogan; II Kings, tr. & comm. by Hayim Tadmor and Mordechai Cogan, New York: Doubleday/Anchor, vol. I, 2001, vol. II, 1988.

Anchor Chronicles = I Chronicles 1–9, 10–29, ed. & tr. by Gary N. Knoppers, 2 vols., New York: Doubleday, 2003.

Anchor Chronicles (Myers), = I and II Chronicles, ed. & tr. by Jacob M. Myers, Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1965, 2 vols.

Anchor Ezra-Nehemiah = Ezra, Nehemiah, ed. & tr. by Jacob M. Myers, Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1965.

Anchor Job = Job, intr., tr., and notes by Marvin H. Pope, Garden City, N.Y.: New York: Doubleday, 1965.

Anchor Ecclesiastes = Ecclesiastes, tr. with intr. and comm. by C. L. Seow, New York: Doubleday, 1997.

Anchor Isaiah = Isaiah, tr. and comm., Joseph Blenkinsopp, Doubleday/Anchor, Vol. I, Isaiah 1–39, 2000; Vol. II, Isaiah 40-55, 2000; vol. III, Isaiah 56–66, New York: Doubleday, 2003.

Anchor Ezekiel = Ezekiel 1–20, tr. with intr. & comm. by Moshe Greenberg, New York: Doubleday, 1983.

Anchor Malachi = Malachi, A New Translation and Commentary, by Andrew Hill, New York: Doubleday/Anchor, 1998.

Anchor Matthew = Matthew, intr., tr. and notes by W. F. Albright and C. S. Mann, New York: Doubleday, 1971.

Anchor Mark = Mark, intr., tr., and comm. by Joel Marcus, Vol. I, Mark 1–8, vol. II, Mark 8–16, New York: Doubleday, 2000, 2009.

Anchor Luke = Luke, intr., tr., and notes by Joseph A. Fitzmyer, S. J., vol. I, Luke 1–9, 1981, vol. II, Luke 10–24, New York: Doubleday, 1985.

Anchor Acts = The Acts of the Apostles, intr., tr., and comm. by Joseph A. Fitzmyer, New York: Doubleday, 1998.

Anchor Romans = Romans, tr. with intr. and comm. by Joseph A. Fitzmyer, New York: Doubleday, 1992.

Brown 1994 = Raymond E. Brown, The Death of the Messiah: From Gethsemane to the Grave. A Commentary on the Passion Narratives in the Four Gospels, 2 vols. New York: Doubleday, Anchor Bible Reference Library.

Brown 1997 = Raymond E. Brown, An Introduction to the New Testament, Anchor Bible Reference Library, New York: Doubleday, 1997.

Childs 1974 = Brevard Childs, The Book of Exodus; a critical, theological commentary, Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1974.

HCSB = The Harper Collins Study Bible, Fully Revised and Updated, With the Apocryphal/Deuterocanonical books, General Editor, Revised Edition, Harold Attridge, General Editor, Original Edition, Wayne Meeks, New York: HarperCollins, 2006. This edition uses the NRSV translation and is sponsored by the Society of Biblical Literature. Similar in its aims to the Anchor Bible, but much more compact.

Holladay 1986 = William L. Holladay, Jeremiah 1: A Commentary on the Book of the Prophet Jeremiah, Chapters 1–25. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1986.

Huet, Demonstratio = Pierre Daniel Huet, Demonstratio evangelica, Amsterdam, 1680. Hathi Trust Digital Library. There are several editions of this work available online, of which the earliest seems to be this one. The first edition was published in Paris in 1679.

IB = The Interpreter’s Bible, George Arthur Buttrick et al., 12 vols., Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1955.

Ibn Ezra 1988 = Ibn Ezra’s Commentary on the Pentateuch, tr. & annot. by H. Norman Strickman and Arthur M. Silver, New York: Menorah Publishing Co., 5 vols., 1988–2001.

KJV = King James Version of the Bible.

Kugel 2007 = James Kugel, How to Read the Bible, New York: Free Press, 2007.

Leiman 1976 = Sid Leiman, The Canonization of Hebrew Scripture: The Talmudic and Midrashic Evidence, Hamden, CT: Archon Books, 1976.

Levenson 1993 = Jon D. Levenson, The Death and Resurrection of the Beloved Son, The Transformation of Child Sacrifice in Judaism and Christianity, New Haven: Yale University Press, 1993.

Manasseh 1842/1972 = Manasseh ben Israel, The Conciliator, tr. by E. H. Lindo, 2 vols., London, 1842. Reprinted in 1972 by Hermon Press, New York.

Meier 1991 = John P. Meier, A Marginal Jew, Rethinking the Historical Jesus, Vol. I, “The Roots of the Problem and the Person,” New York: Doubleday, Anchor Bible Reference Library, 1991.

Metzger and Ehrman 2005 = Bruce Metzger and Bart Ehrman, The Text of the New Testament, 4th ed., Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005.

Meyer 1896 = Arnold Meyer, Jesu Muttersprache: Das galiläische Aramäisch in seiner Bedeutung für die Erklärung der Reden Jesu und der Evangelien überhaupt, Freiburg, Mohr, 1896. Available online in the Hathi Trust Digital Library.

MT = Biblia Hebraica Stuttgartensia, the Masoretic text of the Hebrew Bible, ed. by K. Ellliger and W. Rudolph, 4th Edition, Stuttgart: Deutsche Bibelgesellschaft, 1990.

NJPS = JPS Hebrew-English Tanakh, the traditional Hebrew Text and the new JPS translation, 2nd edition, Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1999.

NOAB = The New Oxford Annotated Bible, containing the Old and New Testaments (in the New Revised Standard Version), ed. by Bruce Metzger and Roland Murphy, New York: Oxford University Press, 1991.

Pereira 1602 = B. Pereira, Commentariorum in Danielem prophetam libri sexdecim, Lyon, 1602.

Rashi 1960 = Pentateuch with Targum Onkelos, Haphtaroth, and Rashi’s Commentary, tr. & ann. by M. Rosenbaum and A. M. Silbermann, New York: Hebrew Publishing Co. 1960, 5 vols.

Seder Olam 2005 = Seder Olam, The Rabbinic View of Biblical Chronology, tr. with commentary by Heinrich W. Guggenheimer, Lanham: Rowman and Littlefield, 2005.

Septuagint = A New English Translation of the Septuagint, and the other Greek translations traditionally included under that title, ed. by Albert Pietersma and Benjamin G. Wright, New York: Oxford University Press, 2007.

SC = Soncino Books of the Bible, with Hebrew Text, English translation, and Exposition based on the classical Jewish commentaries, 2nd ed., London: Soncino Press, 1983.

Simon 1678 = Richard Simon, Histoire critique du Vieux Testament, Paris, 1678. An English translation of this work, A Critical History of the Old Testament, made in 1682, is available online in EEBO.

Simon 1689 = Richard Simon, Histoire critique du texte du Nouveau Testament, Paris, 1689. Both the French original and an English translation are now available on Google Books: http://books.google.pl/books.

Talmud = Soncino Babylonian Talmud, tr. under the editorship of Dr. I. Epstein, London: Soncino Press. The bulk of this work is available online at Halakhah.com.

Other Works

Adler 1996 = Jacob Adler, “The Letters of Judah Alfakhar and David Kimchi,” Studia Spinozana, 12 (1996): 141–167.

Akkerman 1980 = Fokke Akkerman, Studies in the Posthumous Works of Spinoza, Amsterdam: Krips Repro Meppel. 1980.

Akkerman 1984 = Fokke Akkerman, “J. H. Glazemaker, an early translator of Spinoza,” in De Deugd 1984.

Akkerman 1985 = Fokke Akkerman, “Le caractère rhétorique du TTP,” Cahiers de Fontenay, Spinoza entre Lumières et Romantisme, 1985.

Akkerman 1997 = Fokke Akkerman, “Mots techniques – mots classiques dans le Tractatus Théologico-Politicus de Spinoza,” in Totaro 1997.

Akkerman 2005 = Fokke Akkerman, “Tractatus theologico-politicus: texte latin, traductions néerlandais et Adnotationes,” in Akkerman and Steenbakkers 2005.

Akkerman and Hubbeling = “The Preface to Spinoza’s Posthumous Works 1677 and its Author Jarig Jelles (c. 1619–20–1683),” in LIAS 6 (1979): 103–173.

Akkerman and Steenbakkers 2005 = Spinoza to the Letter, Studies in Words, Texts and Books, ed. by Fokker Akkerman and Piet Steenbakkers, Brill, 2005.

Albertus ST = Albertus Magnus, Summa theologiae, ed. by D. Siedler, Muenster: Aschendorff, 1978.

Althaus 1966 = Paul Althaus, The Theology of Martin Luther, tr. by Robert C. Schultz, Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1966.

Ambrose 2005 = Ambrose of Milan: political letters and speeches, tr. with intro. and notes by J.H.W.G. Liebeschutz, assisted by Carole Hill, Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 2005.

Aquinas SCG = Thomas Aquinas, Summa contra gentiles. It is generally possible, by using part and section numbers, to make references to Thomas’s summas which will locate the passage independently of the edition used, and that is my practice. For translations my personal preference is to use the online edition of Aquinas’ Collected Works in the InteLex database.

Aquinas ST = Thomas Aquinas, Summa theologiae. What is true of the Summa contra gentiles is also true of the Summa theologiae.

AT 1974–86 = Oeuvres de Descartes, ed. by Charles Adam and Paul Tannery, 11 Vols., Paris: J. Vrin, 1974–86. A revised edition, with numerous additions, of the standard edition of Descartes’ works.

Augustine 1990- = The Works of Saint Augustine, ed. by Boniface Ramsey. 50 vols. Hyde Park, New York: New City Press, 1990–. Available online in the Past Masters database.

Austin 2007 = Kenneth Austin, From Judaism to Calvinism, The Life and Writings of Immanuel Tremellius (c. 1510–1580), London: Ashgate, 2007.

Balibar 1985a/1998 = Étienne Balibar, Spinoza et la politique, Presses Universitaires de France, 1985. Now available in an English translation by Peter Snowdon, Spinoza and Politics, London: Verso, 1998.

Balibar 1985b/1989 = Étienne Balibar, “Spinoza, l’anti-Orwell—la crainte des masses,” Les Temps modernes, 470, Septembre 1985, pp. 353–98. Now available in an English translation by Ted Stolze in Rethinking Marxism 2 (1989): 104–139.

Barbour 2005 = Hugh Barbour, “Quakers,” Encyclopedia of Religion, ed. by Lindsay Jones, 2nd ed. vol. 11. Detroit: Macmillan Reference USA, 2005.

De la Bassecour Caan 1866 = Jacobus Janus de la Bassecour Caan, Schets van den Regeringsvorm van Nederland van 1515 tot Heden, 2nd ed., expanded, The Hague, 1866. (Now available in Google Online.)

Bayle 2000 = Pierre Bayle, Political Writings, tr. by Sally L. Jenkinson, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000.

Bayle 2001 = Pierre Bayle, Dictionnaire historique et critique, selections, ed. by Jean-Michel Gros and Jacques Chomarat, Paris: Honoré Champion, 2001. This is the edition cited. The full text is available online in the Hathi Trust Digital Library. There is an English translation of selections by Richard Popkin, currently published by Hackett. And a complete English translation is also available online.

Bennett = Jonathan Bennett’s website, www.earlymoderntexts.com/index.html. Bennett worked with an early draft of my translation of the TTP when he was constructing his paraphrase of that work and a draft of my translation of the correspondence when he got to that work. I profited from consulting his paraphrase as I was producing the final draft of my TTP translation and from his comments on my translation of the correspondence.

Bennett and Remnant 1981 = G. W. Leibniz, New Essays on the Human Understanding, tr. & ed. by Peter Remnant and Jonathan Bennett, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1981.

Bennett 1985 = Jonathan Bennett, A Study of Spinoza’s ETHICS, Indianapolis: Hackett, 1985.

Berlin 1997 = Isaiah Berlin, The Proper Study of Mankind, An Anthology of Essays, ed. by Henry Hardy and Roger Hausheer, foreword by Noel Annan, intr. by Roger Hausheer, New York: Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 1997.

Berti 1994 = Silvia Berti (ed.), Trattato dei tre impostori, La vita e lo spirito del Signor Benedetto de Spinoza, Turin: Giulio Einaudi, 1994.

Berti 1996 = Silvia Berti, Françoise Charles-Daubert, and Richard H. Popkin (eds.), Heterodoxy, Spinozism, and free thought in early-eighteenth-century Europe: studies on the Traité des trois imposteurs. Dordrecht: Kluwer, 1996.

Blackwell, Richard, tr., Christiaan Huygens’ THE PENDULUM CLOCK OR GEOMETRICAL DEMONSTRATIONS CONCERNING THE MOTION OF PENDULA AS APPLIED TO CLOCKS, with an introduction by H.J.M. Bos, Ames: Iowa State University Press, 1986.

Bodian 1997 = Miriam Bodian, Hebrews of the Portuguese Nation, Conversos and Community in Early Modern Amsterdam, Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 1997.

Boschiero 2008 = Luciano Boschiero, “Giovanni Borelli and the Comets of 1664-65,” in Journal of the History of Astronomy, 29 (2008): 1–21.

Boyle 1664 = Robert Boyle, Experiments and Considerations Touching Colours, London, 1664. Available online at http://www.gutenberg.org.

Boyle 1666 = Robert Boyle, The Origin of Forms and Qualities, According to the Corpuscular Philosophy, in Stewart 1991. Also available in Early English Books Online.

Bunge and Klever 1996 = Wiep van Bunge and Wim Klever, Disguised and Overt Spinozism Around 1700, Leiden: Brill, 1996.

Bunge 1997 = Wiep van Bunge, “Spinoza’s Jewish Identity and the Use of Context,” Studia Spinozana 13 (1997) 100–118.

Burd 1891 = Niccolò Machiavelli, Il Principe, ed. by L. A. Burd, intr. by Lord Acton, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1891, repr. 1968.

Calvin, Institutes = Calvin, John, Institutes of the Christian Religion, ed. by John T. McNeill, tr. by Ford Lewis Battles, Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1960, 2 vols.

Catalogus 1965 = Catalogus van de Bibliotheek der Vereniging Het Spinozahuis to Rijnsburg, Leiden: Brill, 1965.

Chaytor 1969 = H. J. Chaytor, A History of Aragon and Catalonia, New York: AMS Press, 1969. (Reprint of an edition first published in London in 1933).

Cicero, De finibus = Cicero, De finibus bonorum et malorum, Latin text with an English translation by H. Rackham, LCL, Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1983.

Cicero, De legibus = Cicero, De re publica, De legibus (“On the Republic,” “On the Nature of the Gods”), Latin text with English translation by Clinton Walker Keyes, New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1928.

Cicero, De natura deorum = Cicero, De natura deorum (“On the Nature of the Gods”), Latin text with English translation by H. Rackham, LCL, Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1951.

Cohen 2007 = Jeremy Cohen, Christ Killers, The Jews and the Passion from the Bible to the Big Screen, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007.

Colerus 1706 = John Colerus, The Life of Benedict de Spinosa, London, 1706. Available online at books.google.com.

Continuum Companion 2011 = Wiep van Bunge, Henri Krop, Piet Steenbakkers, and Jeroen van de Ven (ed.), Continuum Companion to Spinoza, London: Continuum, 2011.

Coogan 2006 = Michael D. Coogan, The Old Testament, A Historical and Literary Introduction to the Hebrew Scriptures, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006.

Cook 1995 = Thomas Cook, “Did Spinoza lie to his landlady?” in Studia Spinozana, 11 (1995): 15–37.

Cristofolini 1985 = Paolo Cristofolini, “Esse sui juris e scienza politica,” in Studia Spinozana I, Spinoza’s Philosophy of Society, Hannover: Walther & Walther Verlag, 1985.

Crossan 1996 = John Dominic, Who Killed Jesus? Exposing the Roots of Anti-Semitism in the Gospel Story of the Death of Jesus, San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1996.

Curley 1969 = Edwin Curley, Spinoza’s Metaphysics, Canbridge: Harvard University Press, 1969.

Curley 1973 = Edwin Curley, “Experience in Spinoza’s Theory of Knowledge,” in Spinoza, a Collection of Critical Essays, ed. by Marjorie Grene, New York: Doubleday/Anchor, 1973, 25–59.³

Curley 1975 = “Descartes, and the Ethics of Belief,” in Spinoza, essays in interpretation, ed. M. Mandelbaum and E. Freeman, Chicago: Open Court, 1975, 159–189.

Curley 1984 = “Descartes on the Creation of the Eternal Truths,” Philosophical Review, 1984, 93: 569–597.

Curley 1985 = “Spinoza on Miracles,” Proceedings of the First Italian International Congress on Spinoza, ed. Emilia Giancotti, Bibliopolis, (1985): 421–438.

Curley 1986 = “Analysis in the Meditations: The Quest for Clear and Distinct Ideas,” in A. O. Rorty, Essays on Descartes’ MEDITATIONS, Berkeley: University of California Press, 1986.

Curley 1988 = Behind the Geometrical Method, a Reading of Spinoza’s ETHICS, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1988.

Curley 1990a = “Homo Audax: Leibniz, Oldenburg and the Theological-Political Treatise,” in Studia Leibnitiana Supplementa: Leibniz’ Auseinandersetzung mit Vorgängern und Zeitgenossen, ed. by Ingrid Marchewitz and Albert Heinekamp, Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag, 1990, 277–312.

Curley 1990b = “Notes on a Neglected Masterpiece (II): Spinoza’s Theological-Political Treatise as a Prolegomenon to the Ethics,” in Central Themes in Early Modern Philosophy, ed. by J. A. Cover and Mark Kulstad, Indianapolis: Hackett, 1990: 109–159.

Curley and Moreau 1990 = Edwin Curley and Pierre-François Moreau (eds.), Spinoza, Issues and Directions, Leiden: Brill, 1990.

Curley 1991a = “A Good Man is Hard to Find” in The Proceedings of the American Philosophical Association, vol. 65 (1991): 29–45.

Curley 1991b = “The State of Nature and its Law in Hobbes and Spinoza,” Philosophical Topics, 19 (1991): 97–117.

Curley 1992a = “Rationalism,” in A Companion to Epistemology, ed. by Jonathan Dancy and Ernest Sosa, Oxford: Blackwell, 1992

Curley 1992b = “‘I Durst Not Write So Boldly,’ or How to Read Hobbes’ Theological-Political Treatise,” in Hobbes e Spinoza, ed. by Daniela Bostrenghi, intr. by Emilia Giancotti, Naples: Bibliopolis, 1992: 497–593.

Curley 1994 = “Notes on a Neglected Masterpiece (I): Spinoza and the Science of Hermeneutics,” in Spinoza: The Enduring Questions, ed. by Graeme Hunter, Toronto: Toronto University Press, 1994.

Curley 1995 = “Pufendorf as a critic of Spinoza,” in The Spinozistic Heresy: The Debate on the Tractatus Theologico-politicus, 1670–1677, and the Immediate Reception of Spinozism, ed. by Paolo Cristofolini, Amsterdam: Holland University Press, 1995.

Curley 1996 = “Kissinger, Spinoza and Genghis Khan,” in the Cambridge Companion to Spinoza, ed. by Don Garrett, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996.

Curley 1997 = “Troublesome terms for translators in the TTP,” in Totaro 1997.

Curley 2000 = “The Correspondence between Lambert van Velthuysen and Spinoza,” published only in a Portuguese translation: “A correspondência entre Lambert van Velthuysen e Espinosa,” in Discurso, 31 (2000): 11–43.

Curley 2002 = “Maimonides, Spinoza and the Book of Job,” in Jewish Themes in Spinoza’s Philosophy, ed. by Heidi Ravven and Lenn Goodman, Albany, NY: SUNY Press, 2002, pp. 147–86. (Revised version of a paper which originally appeared in French in Architectures de la raison: melanges offerts à Alexandre Matheron, ed. by Pierre-François Moreau, Fontenay-aux-Roses: ENS editions, 1996).

Curley 2004 = “The Covenant with God in Hobbes’s Leviathan,” in Sorell and Foisneau.

Curley 2007 = “Hobbes and the Cause of Religious Toleration,” in Springborg 2007.

Curley 2010 = “Spinoza’s exchange with Albert Burgh,” in Melamed and Rosenthal.

Curley 2014 = “Spinoza’s Contribution to Biblical Scholarship,” in Baruch de Spinoza, Theologisch-politischer Traktat, ed. by Otfried Höffe, Berlin: Akademie Verlag, 2014.

Curley 2015a = “Spinoza’s Lost Defense,” in The Young Spinoza: A Metaphysician in the Making, ed. by Yitzhak Melamed, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2015.

Curley 2015b = “Resurrecting Leo Strauss,” in Reading between the Lines: Leo Strauss and the History of Early Modern Philosophy, ed. by Winfried Schroeder, Berlin: De Gruyter, 2015.

Curley 2015c = Edwin Curley, “Rara temporum felicitas: Spinoza’s Theological-Political Treatise,” in Kemp, 2015.

Cusa 1991 = Nicholas of Cusa, The Catholic Concordance, ed. & tr. by Paul Sigmund, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991.

Cutler 2003 = Alan Cutler, The Seashell on the Mountaintop, New York: Penguin/Dutton, 2003.

Davenport 1916 = E. H. Davenport, The False Decretals, Oxford: Blackwell, 1916. Available online in the Hathi Trust Digital Library.

De Deugd 1984 = C. De Deugd (ed.), Spinoza’s Political and Theological Thought, Amsterdam: North-Holland Publishing Co., 1984.

De la Court = Pierre and Jean de la Court, La Balance politique, tr. by M. Francès of Part I, Book i, of the De la Court’s Consideratien van staat ofte polityke weg-schaal. Francès translated from the fifth edition, published in Amersterdam, by Jean Cyprien van der Gracht, in 1662. (Jean and Pierre de la Court are also known as Johan and Pieter van Hove. Dutch editions of their works are listed under that name, below.)

Deleuze 1968/1992 = Gilles Deleuze, Spinoza et le problème de l’expression, Paris: Editions de Minuit, 1968. Eng. tr. by Martin Joughin, titled Expressionism in Philosophy: Spinoza, New York: Zone Books, 1992.

Deleuze 1981/2001 = Gille Deleuze, Spinoza, philosophie pratique, 2nd ed., Paris: Édition de Minuit, 1981. English trans. by Robert Hurley, Spinoza: Practical Philosophy, San Francisco: City Lights Publishers, 2001.

Denzinger 1954 = The Sources of Catholic Dogma, tr. by Roy Deferrari, from the Thirtieth Edition of Henry Denzinger’s Enchiridion Symbolorum, Fitzwilliam, N.H.: Loreto Publications, 1954.

Descartes 1668 = René Descartes, Epistolae, London, 1668. Available online in EEBO.

Descartes 1963 = Descartes, Oeuvres philosophiques, 3 vols., ed. by Ferdinand Alquié, Paris: Garnier, 1963–73.

Descartes 1985 = Descartes, Philosophical Writings, 3 vols., ed. and trans. by John Cottingham, Robert Stoothoff, Dugald Murdoch, and Anthony Kenny, Cambridge Univesity Press, 1985–1991.

Dijksterhuis 2004 = Fokko Jan Dijksterhuis, Lenses and Waves, Christiaan Huygens and the Mathematical Science of Optics in the Seventeenth Century, Dordrecht: Kluwer, 2004.

Diogenes Laertius = Diogenes Laertius, Lives of eminent philosophers, Eng. trans. by R.D. Hicks, LCL, Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1950.

DLD = Database of Latin Dictionaries, an online database which provides easy access to Lewis and Short, and a variety of other Latin dictionaries not limited to the classical period, such as Blaise’s Lexicon latinitatis medii aevi, and Du Cange’s Glossarium mediae et infimae latinitatis.

Donagan 1988 = Alan Donagan, Spinoza, Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1988.

Doniela 1987 = Bill Doniela, review of Collected Works, Vol. I, in the Australasian Journal of Philosophy 65 (1987): 362–363.

Dowey 1994 = Edward Dowey, The Knowledge of God in Calvin’s Theology, Grand Rapids, MI: W. B. Eerdmans, 1994.

Drake 2000 = H. A. Drake, Constantine and the Bishops, The Politics of Intolerance, Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2000.

Duijkerius 1991 = Johannes Duijkerius, Het leven van Philopater, en Vervolg van ’t leven van Philopater, Amsterdam: Rodolpi, 1991. First edition: Groningen, 1697.

Dunin-Borkowski 1933-36 = Stanislas von Dunin-Borkowski, Spinoza, Munster: Aschendorf, 1933–36, 4 vols.

Earl 1961 = D. C. Earl, The Political Thought of Sallust, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1961.

Ehrman 1993 = Bart D. Ehrman, The Orthodox Corruption of Scripture, The Effect of Early Christological Controversies on the Text of the New Testament, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1993.

Elliott 1970 = J. H. Elliott, Imperial Spain, 1469–1716, New York: Penguin, 1970.

Encyclopédie = Encyclopédie, ou dictionnaire raisonné des sciences, des arts et des métiers, etc., eds. Denis Diderot and Jean le Rond d’Alembert. Chicago: University of Chicago: ARTFL Encyclopédie Project (Spring 2013 Edition), ed. by Robert Morrissey, http://encyclopedie.uchicago.edu.

Encyclopedia of Judaism = Encyclopaedia of Judaism, 2nd ed., Leiden: Brill, 2005.

Encyclopedia of Philosophy 2006 = The second edition of the Encyclopedia of Philosophy, ed. by Donald Borchert, Detroit: Macmillan Reference, 2006.

Enden 1665/1992 = Franciscus van den Enden, Vrije Politijke Stellingen en Consideratien van Staat, ed. with intr. by W. Klever. Amsterdam: Wereldbibliotheek, 1992. Modern edition of a work on politics published by Van den Enden in 1665.

Episcopius 1621/2005 = Simon Episcopius, The Arminian Confession of 1621, tr. & ed. by Mark Ellis, Eugene: Pickwick Publications, 2005.

Erasmus, Education = Erasmus, The Education of a Christian Prince, tr. by Neil Cheshire and Michael Heath, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997.

Erasmus 1524 = Desiderius Erasmus, On the Freedom of the Will, tr. & ed. by Gordon Rupp, in Luther and Erasmus: Free Will and Salvation, Louisville: Westminster Press, 1969.

Finocchiaro 1989 = Maurice Finocchiaro (ed. & tr.), The Galileo Affair, A Documentary History, Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989.

Firth 1947 = C. H. Firth, Oliver Cromwell and the Rule of the Puritans in England, New York: Putnam, 1947.

Fix 1991 = Andrew C. Fix, Prophecy and Reason, The Dutch Collegiants in the Early Enlightenment, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1991.

Freedman 1964 = David Noel Freedman, “Divine Commitment and Human Obligation,” Interpretation, October 1964.

Freedman 1987 = “‘Who Is Like Thee Among the Gods?’ The Religion of Early Israel,” by David Noel Freedman in Ancient Israelite Religion, ed. by Patrick D. Miller, Jr., Paul D. Hanson, and S. Dean McBride, Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1987.

Freedman 1994 = David Noel Freedman with Jeffrey C. Geohegan, “Martin Noth: Retrospect and Prospect,” in The History of Israel’s Traditions: the Heritage of Martin Noth, ed. by Steven McKenzie and Patrick Graham, Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1994.

Freudenthal 1899 = Die Lebensgeschichte Spinoza’s in quellenschriften, urkunden und nichtamtlichen nachrichten, ed. by Jacob Freudenthal, 1899. Now available online in Google Books.

Freudenthal/Walther 2006 = Die Lebensgeschichte Spinozas, a second edition of Freudenthal 1899, much enlarged, with new commentary and bibliography by Manfred Walther, with the collaboration of Michael Czelinski, 2 vols., Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: FrommannHolzboog, 2006.

Friedman 1989 = Richard Elliott Friedman, Who Wrote the Bible? New York: Harper and Row, 1989 (first edition, New York: Simon and Schuster, 1987).

Fox 1990 = Marvin Fox, Interpreting Maimonides, Studies in Methodology, Metaphysics, and Moral Philosophy, Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1990.

Garrett 1990 = Don Garrett, “‘A Free Man Always Acts Honestly, not Deceptively’: Freedom and the Good in Spinoza’s Ethics,” in Curley and Moreau, 1990.

Garrett 1991 = Don Garrett, “Spinoza’s Necessitarianim,” in Yovel 1991.

Gebhardt 1922 = Carl Gebhardt (ed. & tr.), Die Schriften des Uriel da Costa, Carl Winter, 1922. Contains the original texts of Da Costa’s Sobre a Mortalidade da Alma and Exemplar humanae vitae, with German translations.

Gebhardt/Walther 1998 = Spinoza—Lebensbeschreibungen und Dokumente, a new edition of a work previously edited by Carl Gebhardt, enlarged by Manfred Walther, Hamburg: Felix Meiner Verlag, 1998.

Gelderen 1992 = Martin van Gelderen, The Political Thought of the Dutch Revolt 1555–1590, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992.

Gelderen 1993 = Martin van Gelderen (ed.), The Dutch Revolt, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992.

Genesis Rabbah = Midrash Rabbah, vols. I & II, tr. by H. Freedman and M. Simon, Soncino Press, 1939.

Geyl 1961 = Pieter Geyl, The Netherlands in the Seventeenth Century, 2nd ed., London: Ernest Benn, 2 vols., 1961.

Giesey 1968 = Ralph Giesey, If not, not: the oath of the Aragonese and the legendary laws of Sobrarbe, Princeton University Press, 1968.

Gilson, Index = Etienne Gilson, Index Scolastico-Cartésien, Paris: Vrin, 1979 (second edition, with revisions made in 1966, of a work first published in 1913).

Goldish 2004 = Matt Goldish, The Sabbatean Prophets, Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2004.

Greenberg & Cohn 2007 = Moshe Greenberg and Haim Hermann Cohn, “Ḥerem,” Encyclopaedia Judaica. Ed. Michael Berenbaum and Fred Skolnik, 2nd ed., Detroit: Macmillan Reference USA, 2007, Vol. 9, pp.10–16.

Grotius 1610 = Hugo Grotius, Liber de antiquitate reipublicae Batavicae, Leiden, 1610. Available online in the Hathi Trust Digital Library. An English translation of this work, A treatise on the antiquity of the commonwealth of the Batavers, which are now the Hollanders, by Thomas Woods, London, 1649, is available online in EEBO.

Grotius 1625/1853 = Hugo Grotius, De jure belli et pacis, Latin text, with an abridged translation by William Whewell, 3 vols., Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1853. This edition has the advantage of being available on Google Books. I have sometimes taken the liberty of modifying Whewell’s translation. In 2005 the Liberty Fund republished, under the editorship of Richard Tuck, an eighteenth-century English translation of Barbeyrac’s French edition of this work, which is worth consulting.

Grotius 1647/2001 = Hugo Grotius, De imperio potestatum circa sacra, a critical edition, with trans. and commentary, by Harm-Jan van Dam, 2 vols., Leiden: Brill, 2001 (first published in 1647 two years after Grotius’ death).

Hacking 1975 = Ian Hacking, The Emergence of Probability, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1975.

Haitsma Mulier 1980 = Eco O.G. Haitsma Mulier, The Myth of Venice and Dutch Republican thought in the Seventeenth Century, tr. by Gerard T. Moran, Amsterdam Van Gorcum, 1980.

Halevi 1964 = Judah Halevi, The Kuzari, tr. by Hartwig Hirschfeld, intr. by Henry Slonimsky, New York: Schocken Books, 1964.

Hamlyn 2006 = D. W. Hamlyn, “A Priori and a Posteriori,” in the Encyclopedia of Philosophy, 2nd edition, ed. by Donald Borchert, electronic resource, 2006.

Hampton 1986 = Jean Hampton, Hobbes and the Social Contract Tradition, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1986.

Harris 1978 = Errol Harris, “Is There an Esoteric Doctrine in the Tractatus Theologico-Politicus?” Mededelingen vanwege het Spinozahuis 38, Leiden: Brill, 1978.

Haroutunian 1958 = Joseph Haroutunian, ed. and trans., Calvin: Commentaries, Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1958.

Heertum 2010 = Cis van Heertum and Frank Grunert (eds.), Spinoza im Kontext. Voraussetzungen, Werk und Wirken eines radikalen Denkers, Halle: Mitteldeutscher Verlag, 2010.

Hobbes, DCv = Thomas Hobbes, De cive, The Latin Version, ed. by Howard Warrender, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1983. Critical edition of a work first circulated in Paris in 1642, with a proper edition in Amsterdam in 1647. Spinoza owned a copy of the 1647 edition.

Hobbes, Leviathan = Thomas Hobbes, Leviathan, ed. by Edwin Curley, Indianapolis: Hackett, 1994. This edition notes the variations between the English Leviathan of 1651 and the Latin Leviathan, first published in 1668, which seems likely to have been the edition in which Spinoza would have read Hobbes’ work, though a Dutch translation published in 1667 was also available to him.

Höpfl 1982 = Harro Höpfl, The Christian Polity of John Calvin, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1982.

Horace, Epistles = Horace, Epistulae, ed. by H. Rushton Fairclough, available online at: http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus:text:2008.01.0539.

Hume, Treatise = David Hume, A Treatise of Human Nature, ed. by L. A. Selby-Bigge, 2nd ed., revised by P. H. Nidditch, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1978.

Huet, Quaestiones = Pierre Daniel Huet, Quaestiones Alnetanae de Concordia Rationis et Fidei, Paris, 1690. Available online in the Hathi Trust Digital Library.

Hunter 2005 = Graeme Hunter, Radical Protestantism in Spinoza’s Thought, London: Ashgate, 2005.

Huygens 1888-1950 = Christian Huygens, Oeuvres complètes, Société hollandaise des sciences, La Haye: M. Nijhoff, 1888–1950.

Iliffe 1996 = Robert Iliffe, “Jesus Nazarenus Legislator: Adam Boreel’s Defense of Christianity,” in Berti et al. 1996.

Israel 1995 = Jonathan Israel, The Dutch Republic, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1995.

Israel 1996 = Jonathan Israel, “The Banning of Spinoza’s Works in the Dutch Republic (1670–1678),” in Van Bunge and Klever 1996.

Israel 2001 = Jonathan Israel, The Radical Enlightenment: Philosophy and the Making of Modernity 1650–1750, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001.

Israel 2006 = Jonathan Israel, Enlightenment Contested: Philosophy, Modernity, and the Emancipation of Man 1670–1752, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006.

Israel 2010 = Jonathan Israel, A Revolution of the Mind, Radical Enlightenment and the Intellectual Origins of Modern Democracy, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2010.

Israel 2011 = Jonathan Israel, Democratic Enlightenment, Philosophy, Revolution, and Human Rights, 1750–1790, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011.

Jaquet 2008 = Chantal Jaquet, Pascal Sévérac, and Ariel Suhamy, La multitude libre, nouvelles lectures du TRAITÉ POLITIQUE, Paris: Éditions Amsterdam, 2008.

Jackson and Wunner 2002 = Alan Jackson and William Wunner (eds.), Rabies, Boston: Academic Press 2002. Available in Google Online.

James 2009 = Susan James, “Freedom, Slavery and the Passions,” in Koistinen 2009.

James 2012 = Susan James, Spinoza on Philosophy, Religion and Politics, The THEOLOGICAL-POLITICAL TREATISE, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012.

Jayasekera 2014 = Marie Jayasekera, “Descartes on Human Freedom,” Philosophy Compass, 9 (2014): 527–39.

Jelles/Spruit 1684/2004 = Jarig Jelles, Belijdenisse des algemeen en christelijken geloofs, vervattet in een brief aan N.N. door Jarig Jelles, Amsterdam: Jan Rieuwertsz, 1684. The 1684 edition of this work is a very rare book, of which only one copy is known to exist, but there is a modern edition, Professione della fede universale e cristiana, contenuta in una lettera a N.N., by Leen Spruit, which has the original text with an Italian translation on facing pages, Macerata: Quodlibet, 2004.

Joël 1870 = M. Joël, Spinozas Theologisch-Politischer Traktat auf seinen Quellen geprüft, Breslau: 1870.

Josephus, Antiquities = Flavius Josephus, Judean Antiquities. Greek texts and English translations available online at: http://www.perseus.tufts.edu.

Justin Martyr 2003a = Justin Martyr, Dialogue with Trypho, tr. by Thomas Falls, rev. by Thomas Halton, ed. by Michael Slusser, Washington: Catholic University of America Press, 2003.

Justin Martyr 2003b = Justin Martyr, Dialogue avec Tryphon, critical edition, with trans. and comm. by Philippe Bobichon, 2 vols., Fribourg: Academic Press Fribourg, 2003.

Justinian, Digest = The Digest of Justinian, Latin text ed. by Th. Mommsen and Paul Krueger, Eng. tr. by Alan Watson, Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2 vols., 1985.

Kamen 1997 = Henry Kamen, The Spanish Inquisition, A Historical Revision, New Haven: Yale University Press, 1997.

Kaplan 1989 = Yosef Kaplan, From Christianity to Judaism: the story of Isaac Orobio de Castro,; tr. by Raphael Loewe, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1989.

Kardel 1994 = Troels Kardel, Steno, Life, Science, Philosophy, with Niels Stensen’s Proemium, or Preface to a Demonstration the Copenhagen Anatomical Theater, in the Year 1673. Berlin: Springer, 2012.

Kardel 2013 = Troels Kardel, Paul Maquet (eds.), Nicolaus Steno: Biography and Original Papers of a Seventeenth Century Scientist, Berlin: Springer, 2013.

Katchen 1984 = Aaron Katchen, Christian Hebraists and Dutch Rabbis, Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1984.

Katz 1993 = David Katz, “Isaac Vossius and the English Biblical Critics, 1670-1689,” in Scepticism and Irreligion in the seventeenth and eighteenth Century, ed. by Richard Popkin and Arjo Vanderjagt, Leiden: Brill, 1993.

Kavka 1986 = Gregory Kavka, Hobbesian moral and political theory, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1986.

Kellner 2004 = Menachem Kellner, Dogma in Medieval Jewish Thought, From Maimonides to Abravanel, Oxford: The Littman Library of Medieval Jewish Civilization, 2004, reprint of an edition originally published in 1986.

Kemp 2015 = Geoff Kemp (ed.), Censorhsip Moments, Reading Texts in the History of Censorship and Freedom of Expression, London: Bloomsbury, 2015.

Kirchmann 1871 = Kirchmann, (von) J.-H., Erläuterungen zu Benedict von Spinoza’s theologisch-politischen Abhandlung, Berlin: L. Hermann, 1871.

Klever 1987 = Wim Klever, “The Helvetius Affair, or Spinoza and the Philosopher’s Stone,” Studia Spinozana 3 (1987): 439–50.

Klever 1988 = Wim Klever (ed.), “De Spinozistische prediking van Pieter Balling: Uitgave van “Het licht op den kandelaar’ met biografische inleiding en commentaar,” in in Doopsgezinde bijdragen 14 (1988): 65–85.

Klever 1989 = Wim Klever, “Spinoza and Van den Enden in Borch’s Diary in 1661 and 1662,” Studia Spinozana 5 (1989): 311–325.

Klever 1990 = Wim Klever, “Proto-Spinoza, Franciscus Van den Enden,” Studia Spinozana, 6 (1990): 281–289.

Klever 1991 = Wim Klever, “A New Source of Spinozism: Franciscus Van den Enden,” Journal of the History of Philosophy, 29 (1991): 613–631.

Klever and Van Zuylen 1990 = W.N.A. Klever and J. van Zuylen, “Insignis opticus. Spinoza in de geschiednis van de optic,” De zevetiende eeuw, 6–2 (1990): 47–63.

Koerbagh 1668 = Adriaan Koerbagh, Een bloemhof van allerley lieflijkheyd, Amsterdam, 1668. Available at http://www.dbnl.org.

Koerbagh/Wielema 2011 = Adriaan Koerbagh, A Light Shining in Dark Places, ed. & tr. by Michiel Wielema, intr. by Wiep van Bunge, Leiden: Brill, 2011. Dutch text with an English translation on facing pages.

Koistinen 2009 = Olli Koistinen (ed.), The Cambridge Companion to Spinoza’s ETHICS, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009.

Kolakowski 1969 = Leszek Kolakowski, Chrétiens sans église, Paris: Gallimard, 1969.

Kossman and Mellink 1974 = E. H. Kossman and A. F. Mellink, Texts concerning the Revolt of the Netherlands, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1974.

Lagrée 2004 = Jacqueline Lagrée, Spinoza et le débat religieux, Rennes: Presses Universitaires de Rennes, 2004.

Laerke 2008 = Mogens Laerke, Leibniz lecteur de Spinoza, Paris: Honoré Champion, 2008.

Laerke et al 2013 = Mogens Laerke, Justin Smith and Eric Schliesser (eds.), Philosophy and Its History, Aims and Methods in the Study of Early Modern Philosophy, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013.

Laird 1934 = John Laird, Hobbes, London: E. Benn Ltd., 1934.

LCL = Loeb Classical Library.

Leibniz, Akademie edition = Gottfried Wilhelm von Leibniz, Sämtliche Schriften und Briefe, ed. by the Berlin-Brandenburg Academy of Sciences and the Academy of Sciences at Göttingen, 1923–.

Leibniz, Gerhardt = Der Briefwechsel von Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz mit Mathematikern, ed. C. I. Gerhardt, Hildesheim: Olms Verlag, 1987.

Leibniz, Loemker = Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz, Philosophical Papers and Letters, tr. & ed. by Leroy Loemker, 2nd edition, Dordrecht: Reidel, 1976.

Leopold 1902 = J. H. Leopold, Ad Spinozae opera posthuma, The Hague: Nijhoff, 1902. Now available online in Google Books.

Lewis 1993 = Bernard Lewis, Islam and the West, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1993.

Livy = Titus Livius, Ab urbe condita, tr. by B. O. Foster et al., LCL, 14 vols., Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1948.

Locke, Letter = John Locke, Epistola de Tolerantia, A Letter on Toleration, ed. by R. Klibansky, tr. by J. Gough, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1968.

Locke, Essay = John Locke, An Essay Concerning Human Understanding, ed. by Peter H. Nidditch, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1975.

Lucas 1927 = The Oldest Biography of Spinoza, by Jean Lucas, ed. & tr. by A. Wolf, London: Thoemmes Press 1992 (reprint of an edition first published in 1927).

Lucian 1905 = The works of Lucian of Samosata, tr. by H. W. Fowler and F. G. Fowler, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1905. Available online at: http://www.hathitrust.org.

Lucretius = Lucretius, De rerum natura (“On the Nature of Things”), Latin text with an English tr. by W.H.D. Rouse, revised by Martin Smith, LCL, Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1992.

Luther, Works = Martin Luther, Works, ed. by Jaroslav Pelikan (St. Louis, Mo.: Concordia, 1960), 69 vols.

Machiavelli, Discourses = Niccolo Machiavelli, Discourses on Livy, tr. with annotation by Harvey Mansfield and Nathan Tarcov, Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1996.

Mahoney 1980 = Michael Mahoney, “Christian Huygens: The Measurement of Time and of Longitude at Sea,” in Studies on Christiaan Huygens, ed. H.J.M. Bos et al., Lisse: Swets, 1980, 234–270.

Maimonides Guide = Maimonides, Moses, The Guide of the Perplexed, tr. with intr. and notes by Shlomo Pines, Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1963, 2 vols. References are by part and chapter.

Maimonides Reader = A Maimonides Reader, ed. with introductions and notes, by Isadore Twersky, West Orange, N.J.: Behrman House, 1972.

Maimonides Crisis = Epistles of Maimonides, Crisis and Leadership, tr. by Abraham Halkin, Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1985.

Malcolm 2002 = Noel Malcolm, “Hobbes, Ezra and the Bible,” in Aspects of Hobbes, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002.

Malet 1966 = André Malet, Le Traité Théologico-Politique de Spinoza et la Pensée Biblique, Paris: Société Les Belles Lettres, 1966.

Manasseh 1652/1987 = Menasseh ben Israel, The Hope of Israel, Eng. tr. by Moses Wall, ed., with intro. and notes by Henry Méchoulan and Gérard Nahon, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1987. Wall’s original 1652 text is conveniently available online in EEBO, but this 1987 edition offers many valuable aids for the modern reader.

Mander 2012 = William Mander, “Pantheism,” Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy.

Mantel 2007 = Hugo Mantel. “Sanhedrin.” Encyclopaedia Judaica. Ed. Michael Berenbaum and Fred Skolnik. 2nd ed. vol. 18. Detroit: Macmillan Reference USA, 2007. 21–23.

Matheron 1969 = Alexandre Matheron, Individu et communauté chez Spinoza, Paris: Éditions de Minuit, 1969.

Matheron 1971 = Alexandre Matheron, Le Christ et le salut des ignorants, Paris: Aubier Montaigne, 1971.

Matheron 1977 = Alexandre Matheron, “Femmes et serviteurs dans la démocratie spinoziste,” in Revue philosophique de la France et de l’étranger, 167 (1977): 181–200. Reprinted in Matheron 2011.

Matheron 1978 = Alexandre Matheron, “Spinoza et la décomposition de la politique thomiste: Machiavélisme et utopie,” Archivio di Filosopfia 1978: 29–59. (Reprinted in Matheron 2011).

Matheron 1985 = Alexandre Matheron, “Le 'droit du plus fort': Hobbes contre Spinoza,” Revue philosophique, no. 2, April–May, 1985. (Reprinted in Matheron 2011).

Matheron 1986 = Alexandre Matheron, “Spinoza et la problématique juridique de Grotius,” Philosophie no. 4, pp. 68–89, 1984. (Reprinted in Matheron 2011).

Matheron 1990 = Alexandre Matheron, “Le problème de l’évolution de Spinoza du Traité théologico-politique au Traité politique,” in Curley and Moreau 1990, pp. 258–270.

Matheron 2011 = Alexandre Matheron, Études sur Spinoza et les philosophes de l’âge classique, Lyon: ENS Éditions, 2011.

Mayor 2014 = Adrienne Mayor, The Amazons, Lives and Legends of Warrior Women across the Ancient World, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2014.

McNeill 1959 = “The Significance of the Word of God for Calvin,” Church History 28 (1959): 131–146.

McKim 2004 = Donald K. McKim, The Cambridge Companion to John Calvin, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004.

McShea 1968 = Robert McShea, The Political Philosophy of Spinoza, NewYork: Columbia University Press, 1968.

Méchoulan 1974 = Henri Méchoulan, “Spinoza, Lecteur d’Antonio Pérez,” Ethnopsychologie 29 (1974): 289–301.

Méchoulan 1984 = Henri Méchoulan, “Spinoza et l’Espagne,” Cuadernos Salmantinos de Filosofia, 11(1984): 435–59.

Meinsma 1983 = K. O. Meinsma, Spinoza et son cercle, Etude critique historique sur les hétérodoxes hollandais, tr. S. Roosenburg and J.-P. Osier, Paris: Vrin. This translation of Meinsma’s Spinoza en zijn Kring (1896) not only makes his work available to a wider circle of readers, but also updates it with extensive annotation supplied by Henri Méchoulan, Pierre-François Moreau, and others. Meinsma’s original is now available in Google books. Even those who would otherwise prefer the French translation may find this useful for tracking references in secondary sources. I make my references to the French edition.

Melamed and Rosenthal 2010 = Yitzhak Melamed and Michael Rosenthal (eds.), Spinoza’s THEOLOGICAL-POLITICAL TREATISE, A Critical Guide, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010.

Meli 1934 = Fausto Meli, Spinoza e due antecedenti italiani dello spinozismo, Florence: G. C. Sansoni, 1934.

Mersenne 1624 = Marin Mersenne, L’Impiété des Déistes, Athées, et Libertins, combattue et renversée, 1624.

Mertens 2011 = Frank Mertens, “Johannes Koerbagh’s lost Album Amicorum, Seen through the eyes of Pieter de la Ruë,” Lias 38 (2011): 59–127.

Mertens 2012 = Frank Mertens, Van den Enden en Spinoza, Voorschoten: Uitgeverij Spinozahuis, 2012.

Meyer 1666 = Lodewijk Meyer, Philosophia S. Scripturae interpres, Amsterdam 1666. This edition is now available in Google Books. Page references in the 1666 edition can be translated into chapter and section numbers, which will enable the reader to navigate the French and English translations listed below.

Meyer 1988 = A French translation of Meyer 1666, by Jacqueline Lagrée and Pierre-François Moreau, La Philosophie interprète de l’Écriture sainte, Intertextes, 1988.

Meyer 2005 = An English translation Meyer 1666, Philosophy as the Interpreter of Holy Scripture, by Samuel Shirley, with introduction and notes by Lee C. Rice & Francis Pastijn, Milwaukee: Marquette University Press, 2005.

Milton 1991 = John Milton, Political Writings, ed. by Martin Dzelzainis, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991.

Montag and Stoltze = Warren Montag and Ted Stoltze, eds., The New Spinoza, Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1997.

Montaigne 1957 = Montaigne, The Complete Essays, tr. by Donald Frame, Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1957.

More 1995 = Thomas More, Utopia, Latin text and English translation, ed. by George M. Logan, Robert M. Adams, and Clarence H. Miller, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995.

Moreau 1990 = P. F. Moreau, “Fortune et Théorie de l’histoire,” in Curley and Moreau 1990.

Mossner 1980 = E. C. Mossner, The Life of David Hume, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2nd edition, 1980.

Nadler 1999 = Steven Nadler, Spinoza: A Life, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999.

Nadler 2001 = Steven Nadler, Spinoza’s Heresy, Immortality and the Jewish Mind, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001.

Nadler 2011 = Steven Nadler, A Book Forged in Hell, Spinoza’s Scandalous Treatise and the Birth of the Secular Age, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2011.

Negri 1981 = Antonio Negri, L’anomalia selvaggia. Saggio su potere e potenza in Baruch Spinoza, Milan: Giangiacomo Feltrinelli Editore, 1981.

Negri 1982 = A French translation of Negri 1981, L’anomalie sauvage, Puissance et pouvoir chez Spinoza, tr. by François Matheron, with prefaces by Gilles Deleuze, Pierre Macherey, and Alexandre Matheron, PUF, 1982.

Negri 1991 = An English translation of Negri 1981, The Savage Anomaly, The Power of Spinoza’s metaphysics and politics, tr. by Michael Hardt, with a foreword by Hardt, Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1991.

Nelson 2010 = Eric Nelson, The Hebrew Republic, Jewish Sources and the Transformation of European Political Thought, Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2010.

Nolan Descartes Lexicon = Lawrence Nolan, ed., The Cambridge Descartes Lexicon, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2016.

Nostra Aetate 1965 = Declaration on the relation of the Church to Non-Christian religions, proclaimed by Pope Paul VI, October 28, 1965. The text is available at: http://www.vatican.va/archive.

OED = Oxford English Dictionary. I have been using the third edition, available online through my university library.

OLD = Oxford Latin Dictionary, ed. by P.G.W. Glare, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1984.

Oldenburg 1965 = The Correspondence of Henry Oldenburg, ed. & tr. by A. Rupert Hall and Marie Boas Hall, Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 13 vols., 1965–86.

Osier 1983 = Jean-Pierre Osier, D’Uriel da Costa à Spinoza, Paris: Berg International, 1983. Among other things, this work contains French translations of the works included in Gebhardt 1922.

Parker 1985 = Geoffrey Parker, The Dutch Revolt, revised edition, New York: Penguin, 1985.

Parker 1995a = Geoffrey Parker, Philip II, Chicago: Open Court, 1995.

Parker 1986 = T. H. L. Parker, Calvin’s Old Testament Commentaries, Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1986.

Parker 2010 = Geoffrey Parker, Felipe II: La biografía definitiva, tr. by Victoria E. Gordo del Rey, Barcelona: Planeta, 2010.

Parker 2014 = Geoffrey Parker, Imprudent King: A New Life of Philip II, New Haven: Yale University Press, 2014.

Parker 1995b = T. H. L. Parker, Calvin, an Introduction to his Thought, Louisville: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1995.

Pelikan 1975–91 = Jaroslav Pelikan, The Christian Tradition, A History of the Development of Doctrine, Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 5 vols., 1975–91.

Pelikan and Hotchkiss 2003 = Creeds and Confessions of Faith in the Christian Tradition, ed. by Jaroslav Pelikan and Valerie Hotchkiss, New Haven: Yale University Press, 4 vols., 2003.

Pennington 1993 = Kenneth Pennington, The prince and the law, 1200-1600 : sovereignty and rights in the western legal tradition, Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993.

Pereira 1602 = B. Pereira, Commentariorum in Danielem prophetam libri sexdecim, Lyon 1602.

Pérez 1644 = Antonio Pérez, Las obras y relaciones de Antonio Perez secretario de Estado, que fue del Rey de España Don Philippe II deste nombre, Geneva: Juan de Tornes, 1644 (available online through Hathi Digital Trust and Google Online). This work was first published under a pseudonym in 1591, and frequently reprinted afterward in the 17th Century. Spinoza owned a copy of the 1644 edition.

Pérez 1715 = An English translation of substantial portions of Pérez 1644, published anonymously in 1715, available online in Eighteenth Century Collections Online.

Peursen 1993 = C. A. van Peursen, “E. W. van Tschirnhaus and the Ars Inveniendi,” in Journal of the History of Ideas, 54 (1993): 395–410.

Philo, Works = The Works of Philo, New Updated Edition, tr. by C. D. Yonge, updated by David Scholer, Hendrickson Publishers, 1995.

PL = The Patrologia Latina Database, publ. by Chadwyck-Healey, in 1995, contains 221 volumes and represents a complete electronic version of the first edition of Jacques-Paul Migne’s Patrologia Latina (1844–1855 and 1862–1865).

Pliny, Natural History = Pliny the Elder, Naturalis historia/Natural history. The Latin text, ed. by Karl Friedrich Theodor Mayhoff, and an English tr. by John Bostock and H. T. Riley, are both available at: http://www.perseus.tufts.edu.

Porton 2005 = Porton, Gary, “Other Religions, Judaic Doctrines of,” in the Encyclopedia of Judaism.

Preus 1995 = Samuel Preus, “A Hidden Opponent in Spinoza’s ‘Tractatus,’” in Harvard Theological Review, 88 (1995): 361–88.

Preus 2001 = Samuel Preus, Spinoza and the Irrelevance of Biblical Authority, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001.

Price 1994 = J. L. Price, Holland and the Dutch Republic in the Seventeenth Century, The Politics of Particularism, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1994.

Proietti 1997 = Omero Proietti, “Spinoza et le ‘Conciliador’ de Menasseh ben Israel,” Studia Spinozana, 13 1997: 48–63.

Proietti 1995 = Omero Proietti, Osservazioni, note e congetture sul testo latino e nederlandese del TRACTATUS POLITICUS, Macerata: Università di Macerata, 1995.

Rahman 1979 = Fazlur Rahman, Islam, 2nd ed., Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1979.

Raphael 1994 = Simcha Paull Raphael, Jewish Views of the Afterlife, Northvale, N.J.: Jason Aronson, 1994.

Renier 1944 = G. J. Renier, The Dutch Nation, an historical study, New York: Allen & Unwin, 1944.

Revah 1959 = Revah, I. S., Spinoza et Juan de Prado, Paris/The Hague: Mouton, 1959.

Revius 2002 = Jacobus Revius, A Theological Examination of Cartesian Philosophy, ed. by Aza Goudriaan, Leiden: Brill, 2002.

Rice 1990 = Lee Rice, review of Parkinson, in Studia Spinozana, 6 (1990): 328–330.

Roth 1947 = Cecil Roth, A History of the Marranos, Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society of America, 1947.

Rutherford 2010 = Donald Rutherford, “Spinoza’s Conception of Law: metaphysics and ethics,” in Melamed and Rosenthal.

Quintus Curtius = Quintus Curtius, History of Alexander, tr. by John C. Rolfe, LCL, 2 vols., Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1946.

Sallust = Sallust, [The War with Catiline, The War with Jugurtha, Orations, and Letters from the Histories], ed. & tr. by John C. Rolfe, LCL, Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1931.

Sanchez 1990 = Joseph Sanchez, The Spanish Black Legend, origins of anti-Hispanic stereotypes, Albuquerque, N.M.: National Park Service, Spanish Colonial Research Center, 1990.

Sanders 1977 = E. P. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism: a comparison of patterns of religion, London: SCM Press, 1977.

Sanders 1993 = E. P. Sanders, The Historical Figure of Jesus, New York: Penguin 1993.

Sanders 2001 = E. P. Sanders, Paul: A Very Short Introduction, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001.

Scholem 1974 = Gersom Scholem, Kabbalah, Jerusalem: Keter Publishing House, 1974.

Schoneveld 1983 = C. W. Schoneveld, Intertraffic of the Mind. Studies in seventeenth-century Anglo-Dutch translations, with a checklist of books translated from English into Dutch, 1600–1700. Leiden: Brill, 1983.

Schönfeld 1998 = Martin Schönfeld, “Ehrenfried Walther von Tschirnhaus,” Routledge Encyclopedia of Philosophy, New York: Routledge, 1998.

Schwarzschild et al. 2007 = Steven S. Schwarzschild, Saul Berman, and Menachem Elon, “Noachide Laws,” in Encyclopaedia Judaica, ed. Michael Berenbaum and Fred Skolnik, 2nd ed., vol. 15, pp. 284–287, Detroit: Macmillan Reference USA, 2007.

Scullion 1992 = John J. Scullion, “God in the Old Testament,” in ABD, Vol. II.

Secretan 1987 = Secretan, Catherine, “La reception de Hobbes aux Pays-bas au XVIIe Siècle,” in Studia spinozana, 3 (1987): 27–46.

Seder Olam 2005 = Seder Olam, The Rabbinic View of Biblical Chronology, tr. with commentary by Heinrich W. Guggenheimer, Rowman and Littlefield, 2005.

Seow 1997 = C. L. Seow, ed. & tr., Ecclesiastes, A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary, New York: Doubleday, Anchor Bible, 1997.

Silver 1965 = D. J. Silver, Maimonidean Criticism and the Maimonidean Controversy 1180–1240, Leiden: Brill, 1965.

Smith 1997 = Steven B. Smith, Spinoza, Liberalism, and the Question of Jewish Identity, New Haven: Yale University Press, 1997.

Scholem 1973 = Gershom Scholem, Sabbatai Sevi: The Mystical Messiah, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1973.

Skyrms 1996 = Brian Skyrms, The Evolution of the Social Contract, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996.

Socinus 1580 = Faustus Socinus, An argument for the authority of Holy Scripture, Eng. tr. of Socinus’ De auctoritate S. Scripturae (1580), published in London in 1731. Available online in Gale, Eighteenth Century Collections Online.

Sorell and Foisneau 2004 = Tom Sorell and Luc Foisneau (eds.), LEVIA-THAN After 350 Years, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2004.

Sommer 1996 = Benjamin D. Sommer, “Did Prophecy Cease? Evaluating a Reevaluation,” Journal of Biblical Literature 115 (1996): 31–47.

Southern 1962 = R. W. Southern, Western Views of Islam in the Middle Ages, Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1962.

Springborg 2007 = Patricia Spingborg, ed., The Cambridge Companion to Hobbes’s LEVIATHAN, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011.

Steenbakkers 1994 = Piet Steenbakkers, Spinoza’s ETHICA From Manuscipt to Print, Studies on text, form and related topics, Assen: Van Gorcum, 1994.

Steenbakkers 2005 = Piet Steenbakkers, Spinoza-plaatsen, Over text en context van brief 76, in Mededelingen vanwege het Spinozahuis, no. 91, Leiden: Brill 2005.

Stein 1890 = Ludwig Stein, Leibniz und Spinoza, Berlin, 1890. Available in Google Books.

Stendahl 1963 = Krister Stendahl, “The Apostle Paul and the Introspective Conscience of the West,” Harvard Theological Review 56 (1963): 199–215 (reprinted in Stendahl’s Paul Among Jews and Gentiles, Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1976).

Stewart 1991 = M. A. Stewart, Selected Philosophical Papers of Robert Boyle, Indianapolis: Hackett, 1991.

Stouppe 1673 = [Jean-Baptiste Stouppe], La Religion des Hollandais, Paris, 1673. Available on Google Books.

Strauss 1965 = Leo Strauss, Spinoza’s Critique of Religion, New York: Schocken Books, 1965. (Eng. tr. by E. M. Sinclair of Strauss’s Die Religionskritik Spinozas, 1930).

Strauss 1988 = Leo Strauss, Persecution and the Art of Writing, Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1988 (repr. of edition originally published by the Free Press in 1952).

Studia Spinozana 3. Spinoza and Hobbes, Hanover: Walther & Walther Verlag, 1987.

Tacitus, Agricola = Tacitus, Agricola, Latin text with English translation by M. Hutton, in the LCL, vol. I of the works of Tacitus, Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1970.

Tacitus, Annals = Tacitus, Annales, Latin text, with a translation by John Jackson, in the LCL, in vols. III–V of the works of Tacitus, Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1979–86.

Tacitus, Histories = Tacitus, Historiae, Latin text, with a translation by Clifford Moore, in the LCL, in Vols. II–III of the works of Tacitus, Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1980.

Temple 1972 = Sir William Temple, Observations upon the United Provinces of the Netherlands, ed. by Sir George Clark, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1972. A modern edition of a work first published in 1673. Temple had served as the British ambassador to the Dutch Republic from 1668 to 1670.

Terence = Terence, Latin text with an English translation by John Sargeaunt, in the LCL, two vols. Vol. I contains Andria (“The Lady of Andros”), Heautontimorumenos (“The Self-Tormentor”), and Eunuchus (“The Eunuch”). Vol. II contains Phormio, Hecyra (“The Mother-in-Law”), and Adelphi (“The Brothers”). Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1979.

Thomas 1971 = Keith Thomas, Religion and the Decline of Magic, Studies in Popular Beliefs in Sixteenth and Seventeenth-Century England, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1971.

Tosel 1984 = Tosel, André, Spinoza ou le crépuscule de la servitude, Paris: Aubier Montaigne, 1984.

Totaro 1989 = Giuseppina Totaro, “Un manuscritto inedito delle Adnotationes al Tratatus Theologico-Politicus di Spinoza,” Studia spinozana, 5 (1989): 205–224.

Totaro 1997 = Pina Totaro, (ed.), Spinoziana, Ricerche di terminologia filosofica e critica testuale. Seminario internazionale Roma, 29–30 settembre 1995, Firenze: Leo S. Olschki, 1997.

Tschirnhaus 1695 = Ehrenfried Walther von Tschirnhaus, Medicina Mentis, sive Ars Inveniendi Praecepta Generalia, the second edition of a work originally published in 1687, bound with a revised edition of his Medicina Corporis (1686), is available online at https://archive.org/details/medicinamentissi00tsch.

Twersky and Septimus 1987 = Isadore Twersky and Bernard Septimus, Jewish Thought in the Seventeenth Century, Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1987.

Tyrrell 1984 = William Blake Tyrrell, Amazons: A Study in Athenian Mythmaking, Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1984.

Uytenbogaert 1610 = Johannes Uytenbogaert (or Uijtenbogaert, or Wtenbogaert), Tractaet van ’t Ampt en de Authoriteit eener hooger Christelicker Overheydt in kerkelicke saecken: The Hague, Hillebrant Jacobsz, 1610.

Valla 2007 = Lorenzo Valla, On the Donation of Constantine, tr. by G. W. Bowersock, Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2007.

Van de Ven 2011 = Jeroen van de Ven, “Spinoza’s Life and Time. An Annotated Chronology Based Upon Historical Documents,” in Continuum Companion 2011, pp. 1–57. A shorter version of Van de Ven, Facts. Where the information from Van de Ven’s research is in this shorter, published version, that is the source I cite. But Van de Ven’s not-yet published Facts is much more detailed.

Van de Ven 2015 = Jeroen M. M. van de Ven, “‘Crastinâ die loquar cum Celsissimo principe de Spinosa.’ New Perspectives on Spinoza’s Visit to the French Army Headquarters in Utrecht in Late July 1673,” Intellectual History Review, http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/17496977.2014.973174.

Van de Ven Facts = Jeroen van de Ven, Spinoza. Facts in Focus. An Intellectual Chronology of the Life and Times of Benedictus De Spinoza Based Upon Historical Documents. Unpublished draft ms., graciously shared by the author in March 2015.

Van Hove 1661 = V. H. [Johan and Pieter van Hove, aka Jean and Pierre de la Court], Consideratien van Staat, ofte Polityke Weeg-schaal, Amsterdam: Iacob Volckertsz Zinbreker, 1661. This is the second edition, revised, of a work the brothers had first published in 1660 under a different title. The 1661 edition is the one Spinoza owned and the one to which I make my references. For further bibliographic details see Weststijn 2012. Johan died in 1660, so he probably did not contribute much to the second and subsequent editions. There were several different editions of the Van Hove’s work in 1662, one of which is available on Google Books.

Velthuysen 2013 = Lambert van Velthuysen, A Letter on the Principles of Justice and Decency, Containing a Defence of the Treatise De Cive of the Learned Mr. Hobbes, ed. & tr. by Malcolm de Mowbray, intr. by Catherine Secretan, Leiden: Brill. 2013. First published in 1651.

Verbeek 1992 = Theo Verbeek, Descartes and the Dutch, Early Reactions to Cartesian Philosophy, 1637–1650. Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press, 1992.

Verbeek 2003 = Theo Verbeek, Spinoza’s THEOLOGICAL-POLITICAL TREATISE: Exploring ‘the Will of God,’ Farnham: Ashgate, 2003.

Vermij and Atzema 1995 = Rienk Vermij and Eisso Atzema, “Specillaria circularia: an unknown work by Johannes Hudde,” Studia Leibnitiana 27 (1995): 104–121.

Vernière 1954 = Paul Vernière, Spinoza et la pensée française avant la Révolution, Paris: PUF, 1954.

Voogt 2009 = Gerrit Voogt, “Remonstrant-Counter-Remonstrant Debates: Crafting a Principled Defense of Toleration after the Synod of Dordrecht (1619-1650),” Church History and Religious Culture 89 (2009): 489–524.

Walzer 1973 = Michael Walzer, “Political Action: the Problem of Dirty Hands,” Philosophy and Public Affairs, 2 (1973): 160–180.

Waszink 2010 = Jan Waszink, “Your Tacitism or mine? Modern and early-modern conceptions of Tacitus and Tacitism,” History of European Ideas 36 (2010): 375–385.

Weber-Mockl 1986 = Annette Weber-Mockl, Das Recht des Königs, der über euch herrschen soll: Studien zu 1 Samuel 8, 11ff. in der Literatur der frühen Neuzeit, Berlin, 1986.

Wellhausen 1885 = Julius Wellhausen, Prolegomena to the History of Israel, Edinburgh, 1885, available on Google Books.

Westminster Confession = The confession of faith adopted by the Westminster Assembly in 1646, and widely available in various print editions and on the internet. References will be made by chapter and section, which permits a precise reference independent of the particular edition used.

Weststeijn 2012 = Arthur Weststeijn, Commercial Republicanism in the Dutch Golden Age, The Political Thought of Johan & Pieter de la Court, Leiden: Brill, 2012.

Wills 2007 = Garry Wills, What Paul Meant, New York: Penguin, 2007.

Wootton 1994 = Machiavelli, Selected Political Writings, ed. & tr. by David Wootton, Indianapolis: Hackett, 1994. Of the many editions of Machiavelli’s Prince, this is the one I prefer. It is particularly valuable, I think, for its introduction, its lively translation, and its intelligent selections from The Discourses. But there is still much of interest in Burd 1891.

Yandell 1998 = Keith Yandell, “Pantheism,” Routledge Encyclopedia of Philosophy, 1998.

Yovel 1991 = Yirmiahu Yovel (ed.), God and Nature, Spinoza’s Metaphysics, Leiden: Brill, 1991.

Zac 1965 = Sylvain Zac, Spinoza et l’interprétation de l’Ecriture, Paris: PUF, 1965.

Zac 1979 = Sylvain Zac, Philosophie, théologie, politique dans l’oeuvre de Spinoza, Paris: Vrin: 1079.

Zurita 1967 = Jerónimo Zurita, Anales de la Corona de Aragón, first published 1562–1580.

1. For editions of Spinoza’s works I use the year in the short title only where it is necessary to distinguish different editions by the same editor.

2. Or rather: nearly complete. Since Gebhardt first published there have been some additions to the correspondence: Letter 12A (translated in Collected Works, I, 206); a new fragment of Letter 30 (translated in this volume, pp. 12–14); and Letter 48A, a very long letter from Jelles to Spinoza (discussed above on pp. 367–68; excerpts translated pp. 398–403). As of this date (29 November 2014) three volumes have been published in the PUF edition: ALM, MBG, and PR.

3. This article, like most of my articles listed here, is available on my website: https://sites.google.com/a/umich.edu/emcurley/.

Correlation of the ALM and Bruder Paragraph Numbers in the Theological-Political Treatise (TTP)

For the convenience of readers who may need to follow references in the secondary literature using the paragraphing adopted by ALM or check my translation against their text or translation-, I offer this correlation between the ALM and the Bruder paragraphing. For the most part, paragraph divisions in ALM correspond to those in Bruder, although generally Bruder has more paragraph divisions than does ALM. In some cases, an ALM paragraph break appears part way through a Bruder paragraph. For these, I end that Bruder reference with the same paragraph number with which the next reference begins. So in the correlation for the Preface to the TTP, where ALM13 ends with B31, and ALM14 begins with B31, the division between paragraphs 13 and 14 of ALM occurs within Bruder paragraph 31.

TTP Preface: ALM1 = B1; ALM2 = B2–3; ALM3 = B4; ALM4 = B5–6; ALM5 = B7–8; ALM6 = B9; ALM7 = B10–11; ALM8 = B12–13; ALM9 = B14–19; ALM10 = B20–26; ALM11 = B27; ALM12 = B28; ALM13 = B29–31; ALM14 = B31–32; ALM15 = B33–34; ALM16 = B35.

TTP I: ALM1 = B1; ALM2 = B2–3; ALM3 = B4; ALM4 = B5; ALM5 = B6; ALM6 = B7–8; ALM7 = B9; ALM8 = B10; ALM9 = B11; ALM10 = B12; ALM11 = B13–14; ALM12 = B15–16; ALM13 = B17–18; ALM14 = B19; ALM15–16 = B20; ALM17 = B21; ALM18 = B22–23; ALM19 = B24; ALM20–21 = B25; ALM22 = B26–28; ALM23 = B29–30; ALM24 = B31; ALM25 = B32–39; ALM26 = B40–42; ALM27 = B43–44; ALM28 = B45; ALM29 = B46; ALM30 = B47; ALM31 = B48.

TTP II: ALM1 = B1–2; ALM2 = B3; ALM3 = B4–7; ALM4 = B8–9; ALM5 = B10–11; ALM6 = B12; ALM7 = B13–15; ALM8 = B16–18; ALM9 = B19; ALM 10 = B20; ALM11 = B21–23; ALM12 = B23–24; ALM13 = B25–31; ALM14 = B32–41; ALM15 = B41–48; ALM16 = B48; ALM17 = B49; ALM18 = B50–51; ALM19 = B52–57; ALM20 = B58.

TTP III: ALM1 = B1–5; ALM2 = B6; ALM3 = B7–11; ALM4 = B11; ALM5 = B12–15; ALM6 = B16–22; ALM 7 = B22–29; ALM8 = B30–34.5; ALM9 =34.6–39; ALM10 = B40–46; ALM11 = B47–52; ALM12 = B53–56; ALM13 = B57.

TTP IV: ALM 1 = B1–4; ALM2 = B5–8; ALM3 = B9; ALM4 = B10–13; ALM5 = B14–17; ALM6 = B18–21; ALM7 = B22; ALM8 = B23–25; ALM9 = B26–30; ALM10 = B31–37; ALM11 = B38–39; ALM12 = B40–50.

TTP V: ALM1 = B1–3; ALM2 = B4–5; ALM3 = B6–9; ALM4 = B10–12; ALM5 = B13–16; ALM6 = B17; ALM7 = B18–20; ALM8 = B20–22; ALM9 = B23–25; ALM10 = B26–28; ALM11 = B29–30; ALM12 = B31; ALM13 = B32–34; ALM14 = B35–37; ALM15 = B38; ALM16 = B38–41; ALM17 = B41–43; ALM18 = B44; ALM19 = B45–49; ALM20 = B50.

TTP VI: ALM1 = B1–5; ALM2 = B6; ALM3 = B7–9; ALM4 = B10–12; ALM5 = B13–15; ALM6 = B16–19; ALM7 = B20–23; ALM8 = B24–26; ALM9 = B27–29; ALM10 = B30–34; ALM11 = B35–38; ALM12 = B39–40; ALM13 = B41–44; ALM14 = B45–48; ALM15 = B49–51; ALM16 = B52; ALM17 = B53–54; ALM 18 = B55–56; ALM19 = B56–58; ALM20 = B59–64; ALM21 = B65–66; ALM22 = B67–70; ALM23 = B71–72.

TTP VII: ALM1 = B1–5; ALM2 = B6–8; ALM3 = B9–10; ALM4= B11–13; ALM5 = B14–25; ALM6 = B26–28; ALM7 = B29–34; ALM8 = 34–37; ALM9 = B38–43; ALM10 = B43–44; ALM11 = B44–46; ALM12 = 47–50; ALM13 = 51–55; ALM14 = B56–57; ALM15 = B58–63; ALM16 = B64; ALM17 = 65–69; ALM18 = B69–70; ALM19 = B71–74; ALM20 = B75–82; ALM21 = B83–87; ALM22 = B88–94.

TTP VIII: ALM1 = B1–2; ALM2 = B3; ALM3 = B4–13; ALM4 = B14–19; ALM5 = B20–30; ALM6 = B31–33; ALM7 = B33–38; ALM8 = B39; ALM9 = B40; ALM10 = B41; ALM11 = B42–46; ALM12 = B47–58.

TTP IX: ALM1 = B1–3; ALM2 = B4–7; ALM3 = B7–11; ALM4 = B12; AL;M5 = B13; ALM6 = B14–15; ALM7 = B16–17; ALM8 = B18–20; ALM9 = B20–24; ALM10 = B24–26; ALM11 = B27–29; ALM12 – B30–32; ALM13 = B32–34; ALM14 = B35–36; ALM15 = B37–38; ALM16 = B39–41; ALM17 = B41–43; ALM18 = B44–48; ALM19 = B49–52; ALM20 = B53–61; ALM21 = B62–63.

TTP X: ALM1 = B1–2; ALM2 = B3; ALM3 = B4–5; ALM4 = B6–8; ALM5 = B9–11; ALM6 = B12–13; ALM7 = B14–15; ALM8 = B16–18; ALM9 = B19–21; ALM10 = B21–25; ALM11 = B26–30; ALM12 = B30–31; ALM13 = B31–36; ALM14 = B37–38; ALM15 = B39–41; ALM16 = B42; ALM17 = B43–47; ALM18 = B48.

TTP XI: ALM1 = B1–3; ALM2 = B3–4; ALM3 = B5–7; ALM4 = B7–8; ALM5 = B9–11; ALM6 = B12–13; ALM7 = B14–17; ALM8 = B18–20; ALM9 = B21; ALM10 = B22–24.

TTP XII; ALM1 = B1–2; ALM2 = B3–4; ALM3 = B5–7; ALM4 = B8; ALM5 = B9–12; ALM6 = B12–17; ALM7 = B18–22; ALM8 = B23–25; ALM9 = B26–31; ALM10 = B32–35; ALM11 = B36–38; ALM12 = B38–40.

TTP XIII: ALM1 = B1–4; ALM2 = B4–5; ALM3 = B6–8; ALM4 = B9; ALM5 = B10–16; ALM6 = B17; ALM7 = B18–19; ALM8 = B20–24; ALM9 = B25–29.

TTP XIV: ALM1 = B1–4; ALM2 = B5; ALM3 = B5–10; ALM4 = B11–12; ALM5 = B13; ALM6 = B14; ALM7 = B14–19; ALM8 = B20–21; ALM9 = B22–24; ALM10 = B24–28; ALM11 = B29–34; ALM12 = B35–36; ALM13 = B37–39; ALM14 = B40.

TTP XV: ALM1 = B1–3; ALM2 = B4–7; ALM3 = B8–12; ALM4 = B13–15; ALM5 = B18–20; ALM6 = B21–25; ALM7 = B26–37; ALM8 = B38–42; ALM9 = B43; ALM 10 = B44–45.

TTP XVI: ALM1 = B1; ALM2 = B2–6; ALM3 = B7–8; ALM4 = B9–11; ALM5 = B12–14; ALM6 = B15–19; ALM7 = B20–24; ALM8 = B25–27; ALM9 = B28–31; ALM10 = B32–35; ALM11 = B36–38; ALM12 = B39; ALM13 = B40; ALM14 = B41; ALM 15 = B42; ALM16 = B43–46; ALM17 = B47; ALM18 = B48–541; ALM19 = B52–56; ALM20 = B57–60; ALM21 = B61–63; ALM22 = B64–67.

TTP XVII: ALM1 = B1–4; ALM2 = B5–10; ALM3 = B11–12; ALM4 = B13–17; ALM5 = B18–19; ALM6 = B20–25; ALM7 = B26–29; ALM8 = B30–32; ALM9 = B33–37; ALM10 = B38–42; ALM11 = B42–44; ALM12 = B45–47; ALM13 = B48; ALM14 = B49–57; ALM15 = B58–61; ALM16 = B62; ALM17 = B63–65; ALM18 = B66–69; ALM19 = B70; ALM20 = B71–72; ALM21 = B73; ALM22 = B74–75; ALM23 = B76–81; ALM24 = B82–83; ALM25 = B84–92; ALM26 = B93–100; ALM27 = B101–102; ALM28 = B103–105; ALM29 = B106–111; ALM30 = B112–114; ALM31 = B115.

TTP XVIII: ALM1 = B1–3; ALM2 = B3–5; ALM3 = B6; ALM4 = B6–17; ALM5 = B18–21; ALM6 = B22–29; ALM7 = B30–32; ALM8 = B33–34; ALM9 = B35; ALM10 = B36–37.

TTP XIX: ALM1= B1–2; ALM2 = B2; ALM3 = B3–6; ALM4 = B7–8; ALM5 = B9–10; ALM6 = B10–16; ALM7 = B17; ALM8 = B18–20; ALM9 =B21; ALM10 = B22–24; ALM11 = B25–27; ALM12 = B28–30; ALM13 = B31–33; ALM14 = B34–38; ALM15 = B39; ALM16 = B40–42; ALM17 = B43–44; ALM18 = B45; ALM19 =B46–49; ALM20 = B50–54; ALM21 = B55–59; ALM22 = B59–62.

TTP XX: ALM1 = B1–3; ALM2 = B4–5; ALM3 = B6–7; ALM4 = B8–9; ALM5 = B10; ALM6 = B11–12; ALM7 = B7–15; ALM8 = B16–19; ALM9 = B20–23; ALM10 = B24–26; ALM11 = B27–30; ALM12 = B31–33; ALM13 = B34–36; ALM14 = B37–38; ALM15 = B39–42; ALM16 = B43–45; ALM17 = B46; ALM18 = B47.