Delphi Collected Works of René Descartes

by René Descartes

  ARTICLE CLIII.

  In what Generosity consists.

  Thus I think that true generosity which causes a man to esteem himself as highly as he legitimately can, consists alone partly in the fact that he knows that there is nothing that truly pertains to him but this free disposition of his will, and that there is no reason why he should be praised or blamed unless it is because he uses it well or ill; and partly in the fact that he is sensible in himself of a firm and constant resolution to use it well, that is to say, never to fail of his own will to undertake and execute all the things which he judges to be the best — which is to follow perfectly after virtue.

  ARTICLE CLIV.

  That Generosity prevents our despising others.

  Those who have this knowledge and feeling about themselves easily persuade themselves that every other man can also have them in his own case, because there is nothing in this that depends on another. That is why they never despise anyone; and, although they often see that others commit faults which make their feebleness apparent, they are at the same time more inclined to excuse than to blame them, and to believe that it is rather by lack of knowledge than by lack of good-will that they commit them. And, as they do not think of themselves as being much inferior to those who have more goods or honours, or even who have more mental gifts, more knowledge, more beauty, or, generally speaking, who surpass them in some other perfections, they do not at the same time esteem themselves much above those whom they surpass, because all these things seem to them to be of very small account as compared with the good-will for which alone they esteem themselves, and which they also suppose to exist, or at least to be capable of, existing in all other men.

  ARTICLE CLV.

  In what consists a virtuous humility.

  The most high-minded are thus usually the most humble; and virtuous humility simply consists in the fact that the reflection which we make on the infirmity of our nature and on the faults which we may formerly have committed, or are capable of committing, which are not less than those which may be committed by others, is the reason that we do not prefer ourselves to any one else, and that we think that others, having their free-will as well as we, can likewise use it as well as we.

  ARTICLE CLVI.

  What are the properties of generosity, and how it serves as a remedy against the disorders of the passions.

  Those who are generous in this way are naturally impelled to do great things and at the same time to undertake nothing of which they do not feel themselves capable. And because they do not hold anything more important than to do good to other men and to disdain their individual interests, they are for this reason always perfectly courteous, affable and obliging towards everyone. And along with that, they are entirely masters of their passions, particularly of the desires, of jealousy and envy, because there is nothing the acquisition of which does not depend on them, which they think of sufficient worth to merit being much sought after; they are likewise free of hatred to other men because they hold all in esteem; and of fear, because the confidence which they have in their virtue assures them; and finally of anger, because, esteeming very little all those things that depend on others, they never give so much advantage to their enemies as to recognise that they are harmed by them.

  ARTICLE CLVII.

  Of Pride.

  All those who form a good opinion of themselves for some other reason, whatever it may be, have not a true generosity, but merely a pride which is always very vicious, although it is all the more so, the more the cause for which we esteem ourselves is unjust. And the most unjust cause of all is when we are proud without any reason, that is to say, without our thinking so far as this goes that there is in us any merit for which we ought to be esteemed, simply taking the view that merit is not taken into consideration at all, and that as glory is regarded as nothing but usurpation, those who ascribe most of it to themselves really possess the greatest amount of it. This vice is so unreasonable and absurd, that I should scarcely have believed that there were men who could allow themselves to give way to it, if no one were ever unjustly praised; but flattery is everywhere so common that there is no man so defective that he does not often see himself esteemed for things that do not merit any praise, or even that merit blame; and this gives occasion to the most ignorant and stupid to fall into this species of pride.

  ARTICLE CLVIII.

  That its effects are contrary to those of generosity.

  But whatever may be the reason for which we esteem ourselves, if it is other than the will which we feel in ourselves always to make good use of our free-will, from which I have stated that generosity proceeds, it always produces a very reprehensible pride, which is so different from this true generosity that it has effects entirely contrary to it. For all those other gifts such as cleverness, beauty, riches, honours, &c usually being esteemed so much the more highly as they are found in the smaller number of persons, and being even for the most part of such a nature that they cannot be communicated to many persons, that causes the proud to try to depreciate all other men, and, being slaves to their desires, they have a soul incessantly agitated by hatred, envy, jealousy or anger.

  ARTICLE CLIX.

  Of vicious humility.

  As to abjectness or a vicious humility, it consists principally in the fact that men are feeble or have a lack of resolution, and that, as though they had not the entire use of their free-will, they cannot prevent themselves doing things of which they know that they will afterwards repent; it also consists in their considering that they cannot subsist by themselves nor do without many things the acquisition of which depends on others. It is thus directly opposed to noble-mindedness, and it often happens that those who have the most abject minds are the most arrogant and haughty, just as the most noble-minded are the most modest and humble. But while it is the case that those whose minds are strong and noble do not change in disposition in respect of the prosperity or adversity that comes to them, those whose minds are feeble and abject are led simply by Fortune, and prosperity does not puff them up less than adversity makes them humble. Frequently we even observe that they abase themselves with every mark of shame in the presence of those from whom they expect some profit or fear some ill, and, at the same time, that they insolently place themselves above those from whom they neither hope nor fear anything.

  ARTICLE CLX.

  What is the movement of the animal spirits in these passions.

  For the rest, it is easy to recognise that pride and poor spirit are not only vices, but also passions, because the emotions attached to them readily appear outwardly in those who are suddenly puffed up or cast down by some new occasion that produces them; but we may doubt whether generosity and humility, which are virtues, may likewise be passions, because their movements appear to be less, and because it seems that virtue has not so much in common with passion as has vice. At the same time I see no reason preventing the same movement of the spirits which serves to strengthen a thought when it has a foundation which is bad, from also fortifying it when it has one which is just. And, since pride and generosity consist only in the good opinion which we have of ourselves, and only differ inasmuch as this opinion is unjust in the one case and just in the other, it appears to me that we may relate them to one and the same passion, which is excited by a movement composed of the passions of wonder, of joy and of love, both of that which we have for ourselves, and of that which we have for the thing which causes us to hold ourselves in estimation. On the other hand, the movement which excites humility, whether virtuous or vicious, is composed of the passions of wonder, sadness, and of the love which we have for ourselves, mingled with the hatred which we have for the faults which cause us to disdain ourselves. And the whole difference which I observe in these movements is that the passion of wonder has two properties — the first being that surprise renders it strong from its commencement, and the other that it is equal in its continuance, i.e. that the spirits continue to move according to the same tenor in the brain. Of these pro
perties the first is met with much more in pride and poor spiritedness than in generosity and virtuous humility; and, on the other hand, the second is better seen in the latter than in the other two. The reason of this is that vice usually proceeds from ignorance, and that it is those who know themselves the least who are the most subject to become proud and to humiliate themselves more than they ought to do; because all that happens to them anew surprises them, and brings it to pass that in attributing it to themselves they wonder at themselves, and esteem or despise themselves according as they judge that what happens to them is to their advantage or is not so. But because often after a thing which has made them proud, another follows which humiliates them, the movement of their passions is variable. There is, on the contrary, nothing in generosity which is not consistent with virtuous humility or anything else which might change them, and this causes their movements to be firm, constant, and always very similar to themselves. But they are not due so much to surprise because those who esteem themselves in this way are sufficiently aware what are the causes which make them esteem themselves; at the same time we may say that these things are so wonderful (i.e. the power of making use of one’s freewill, which causes us to value ourselves, and the infirmities of the subject in whom this power rests, which cause us not to place too high a regard on ourselves) that on every occasion on which we present them to ourselves anew, they always supply a new cause for wonder.

  ARTICLE CLXI.

  How Generosity may be acquired.

  And it must be observed that what we commonly name virtues are habitudes in the soul, which dispose it to certain thoughts in such a way that they are different from these thoughts, but can produce them, and reciprocally can be produced by them. It must also be observed that these thoughts may be produced by the soul alone, but that it often happens that some movement of the spirits fortifies them, and that then they are actions of virtue, and at the same time passions of the soul. Thus, while there is no virtue to which it appears as though good native qualities contribute so much as to that which causes us only to esteem ourselves at a just value, and as it is easy to believe that all the souls that God places in human bodies are not equally noble and strong (which is the reason for my having called this virtue generosity, following the usage of our language, rather than magnanimity, following the usage of the Schools where it is not much known) it is yet certain that good instruction serves much in correcting the faults of birth, and that, if we frequently occupy ourselves in the consideration of what freewill is, and how great are the advantages which proceed from a firm resolution to make a good use of it, as also, on the other hand, how vain and useless are all the cares which exercise the ambitions, we may excite in ourselves the passion, and then acquire the virtue of generosity, which, being so to speak the key of all other virtues, and a general remedy for all the disorders of the passions, it appears to me that this consideration is well worthy of notice.

  ARTICLE CLXII.

  Of Veneration.

  Veneration, or respect, is an inclination of the soul not only to esteem the object which it reveres, but also to submit itself thereto with some fear, in order to try to render it favourably inclined. In this way we possess veneration only for free causes which we judge to be capable of doing good or evil to us, without our knowing which of the two they may do. For we have love and devotion rather than a simple veneration for those from whom we expect nothing but good, and we have hatred for those from whom we expect only evil. And, if we do not believe that the cause of this good or evil is free, we do not submit ourselves to it in order to render it favourable to us. Thus when the pagans had veneration for woods, fountains, or mountains, it was not properly speaking these dead things which they revered, but the divinities which they believed to preside over these. And the movement of the animal spirits which excites veneration is composed of that which excites wonder and that which excites fear, of which I shall speak later.

  ARTICLE CLXIII.

  Of Disdain.

  At the same time what I call disdain is the inclination which the soul has to despise a free cause, in judging that, although in its nature it is capable of doing good or evil, it is nevertheless so much below us that to us it can do neither. And the movement of the spirits which excites it is composed of those which excite wonder and security or assurance.

  ARTICLE CLXIV.

  Of the functions of these two passions.

  And it is the noble-mindedness and feebleness of soul or poor spirit, which determine the good and the evil employment of these two passions; for the more noble and generous our soul is, the more inclination we have to render to each man what pertains to him; and thus we have not only a very profound humility in regard to God, but we also render without any repugnance all the honour and respect which is due to each man according to the rank and authority which he has in the world, and we disdain nothing but vices. Those who have a low and feeble mind, on the contrary, are subject to sin by excess, sometimes inasmuch as they revere and fear things which are worthy of disdain alone, and sometimes inasmuch as they insolently despise those which most merit reverence; and they often pass very quickly from extreme impiety to superstition, and then from superstition to impiety, so that there is no vice nor disorder of the mind of which they are not capable.

  ARTICLE CLXV.

  Of Hope and Fear.

  Hope is a disposition of the soul to persuade itself that what it desires will come to pass: and this is caused by a particular movement of the spirits, i.e. by that of joy and that of desire mingled together; and fear is another disposition of the soul which persuades it that the thing hoped for will not come to pass; and it must be observed that, although these two passions are contrary, we can nevertheless have them both at the same time, that is to say, when we represent to ourselves different reasons at the same time, some of which cause us to judge that the accomplishment of desire is easy, while the others make it seem difficult.

  ARTICLE CLXVI.

  Of Confidence and Despair.

  And no one of these passions ever accompanies desire without its giving place in some way to the other; for when hope is so strong that it entirely drives away fear, it changes its nature and is called security or confidence; and when we are assured that what we desire will come to pass, though we continue to desire that it shall come to pass, we nevertheless cease to be agitated by the passion of desire, which made its accomplishment be regarded with anxiety. In the same way, when fear is so extreme that it removes all place for hope, it converts itself into despair; and this despair, representing the matter as impossible, entirely extinguishes desire, which only relates to things that are possible.

  ARTICLE CLXVII.

  Of Jealousy.

  Jealousy is a species of fear which is related to the desire we have to preserve to ourselves the possession of some thing; and it does not so much proceed from the strength of the reasons that suggest the possibility of our losing that good, as from the high estimation in which we hold it, and which is the cause of our examining even the minutest subjects of suspicion, and taking them to be very considerable reasons for anxiety.

  ARTICLE CLXVIII.

  In how far this passion is right.

  And because we ought to have more care in preserving these good possessions that are very great than those which are less, this passion may be just and right in some circumstances. Thus, for example, a captain who is defending a position of great importance has the right to be jealous of it, that is to say, to be mistrustful of all the means by which it might be surprised; and a good woman is not blamed for being jealous of her honour, that is, when she is not only guarding herself against acting wrongly, but also avoiding even the slightest reason for scandal.

  ARTICLE CLXIX.

  In what it is blameworthy.

  But we scorn a miser when he is jealous of his treasure, that is, when he gloats over it, and desires never to be away from it in case he is robbed of it; for money is not worthy of being guarded with so much care. And w
e despise a man who is jealous of his wife, because it shows that he does not love her in the right way, and that he has a bad opinion of himself or of her. I repeat that he does not love her in the right way, since if he had a true love for her, he would not have any inclination to distrust her; but it is not properly speaking she whom he loves, but just the good which he conceives as consisting in having sole possession of her, and he would not fear to lose this good did he not judge himself to be unworthy of it, or else conceive that his wife is unfaithful. For the rest this passion only relates to suspicions and distrust, since it is not properly speaking being jealous to try to avoid some evil when we have just cause for fearing it.

  ARTICLE CLXX.

  Of Irresolution.

  Irresolution is likewise a species of fear, which, holding the soul so to speak in a state of suspension between the many actions which it may perform, is the cause for its executing none, and thus for its having time for choosing before deciding, and this function is truly of a certain value. But when it lasts longer than it ought to do, and causes the time requisite for action to be employed in deliberation, it is very bad. And I assert that it is a species of fear, notwithstanding that it may happen, when we have a choice of several things the excellence of which seems to be very equal, that we remain uncertain and irresolute without our having for all that any fear; for this kind of irresolution proceeds only from the object presented, and not from any movement of the animal spirits; that is why this is not a passion unless it be that the fear we have of choosing wrongly augments our uncertainty. But this fear is so common and so strong in some people that often, although they have nothing to choose, and see only one thing which they may take or leave, it keeps them back and causes them to stop futilely and seek for something else; and then it is an excess of irresolution which proceeds from a too great desire to do right and from a feebleness of understanding, which, having no clear and distinct conceptions, simply has many confused ones. That is why the remedy against this excess is to accustom oneself to form certain and determinate judgments concerning all things that present themselves, and to believe that we always do our duty when we do what we judge to be best, although we may possibly judge very badly.