Geulincx, Ethics
Geulincx, Ethics
Geulincx, Ethics
Ethics
Brill’s Studies in
Intellectual History
General Editor
A.J. Vanderjagt, University of Groningen
Editorial Board
C.S. Celenza, Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore
M. Colish, Oberlin College
J.I. Israel, Institute for Advanced Study, Princeton
J.D. North, University of Groningen
W. Otten, Utrecht University
VOLUME 146
Editorial Board
A. Fix, Lafayette College, Easton
J. Lagrée, Université de Rennes-1
U. Renz, Swiss Federal Institute of Technology Zurich
A. Uhlmann, University of Western Sydney
VOLUME 1
Arnold Geulincx
Ethics
With Samuel Beckett’s Notes
Translated by
Martin Wilson
Edited by
LEIDEN BOSTON
•
2006
On the cover: ‘Interior with a Mother close to a Cradle’ by Pieter de Hoogh (1629-after 1683).
Reproduction by courtesy of the Nationalmuseum – The National Museum of Fine Arts,
Stockholm.
B3918.E5W55 2006
170—dc22
2006048722
ISSN 0920-8607
ISBN-10: 90 04 15467 1
ISBN-13: 978 90 04 15467 4
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, translated, stored in
a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic,
mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written
permission from the publisher.
Ethics
To the Curators of the University of Leiden ...................... 3
Gracious Reader .................................................................... 7
Treatise I On Virtue and its Prime Attributes ............................ 11
Chapter 1 On Virtue in general ............................................ 11
Chapter 2 On the Cardinal virtues ........................................ 19
Section I .......................................................................... 19
Section II ........................................................................ 29
Treatise II On the Virtues Commonly Called Particular .............. 65
Part I On Particular Virtues in general .................................. 67
Part II On Particular Virtues touching upon ourselves .............. 74
Part III On Particular Virtues touching upon God .................. 82
Part IV On Particular Virtues touching upon other men .......... 91
Treatise III On the End and the Good ...................................... 95
Treatise IV On the Passions .................................................... 109
Treatise V On the Reward of Virtue ........................................ 127
Treatise VI On Prudence .......................................................... 151
Annotations to the Ethics ........................................................ 167
Han van Ruler would like to express his thanks to the Flemish and
Dutch Organisations of Scientific Research, the FWO-V (former
NFWO) and NWO, whose funding enabled him to study the life
and work of Arnold Geulincx first at the Catholic University of
Louvain (KU Leuven) and then at Erasmus University Rotterdam.
During the course of this work, I was asked by an enquirer why the
Ethics of Arnold Geulincx had never been translated into English;
and I recall replying, somewhat mischievously, that perhaps all those
who had attempted the task had given up in despair—despair, I
added, at the obscurity of Geulincx’ Latin and his contorted syntax.
This explanation seemed at the time enough to satisfy anyone: it
certainly satisfied me, having at one point become not a little dis-
couraged myself. But now that these obscurities and contortions have
all been illuminated and untwisted (and not by my efforts alone, far
from it), I have come to see the work in a new light. A brief re-
collection of how I came to see it in the old light may make my
reasons for this revision clearer.
In the Preface to my onetime translation of Geulincx’ Metaphysics,
I had remarked that:
. . . his [Geulincx’] rhetoric itself is not elegant. His habit of saying
everything twice over (sometimes in the same sentence), and of repeat-
ing the same train of qualifications every time a certain word or phrase
recurs is exasperating. Parts of the present work [Metaphysics] read like
(what they may well have been) elaborated lecture-notes, producing a
disjointed effect similar to Aristotle’s work of the same title.
The Ethics I conceived of as being very different: a lyrical master-
piece, whose “magnificent Belgo-Latin” Samuel Beckett evidently
found as captivating as he found its doctrines liberating—a lyrical
masterpiece whose prose-poetry (I vowed) could be best conveyed
by allowing my own prose to be infiltrated (however inadequately)
by the rhythms and splendours of that era when the English lan-
guage was at its best; which by no miraculous coincidence was
approximately the period of Geulincx’ own life. With this forewarning
in mind, the reader may then not be as surprised as he might oth-
erwise be to happen upon, when he has barely turned over a page
or two, a passage such as this:
At the same time, the pleasure of a mind separated and withdrawing
itself from the body (which, as I have said, consists in the bare appro-
bation of its own actions, inasmuch as they assent to Divine Law)
xii translator’s preface
seems for the most part so meagre, so tenuous and rarefied, that men
hardly or not at all consider it to be worthy of the name of Pleasure.
And when this spiritual delight is sterile, and does not produce the
corporeal and sensible pleasure (passionate Love) which in other cases
it usually does produce, they complain that they have to live a life of
sorrow and austerity, that they are wasting away, and that for all they
obey God and Reason, they are destitute of all reward and consolation.
However, as the work progressed, I came to recognise that there is
another essential element present that I had formerly been inclined
to dismiss as an obstacle or even as a fault, an element that we can
see in operation as early as in the Dedication that Geulincx addressed
to the Curators of the University of Leiden. There has, no doubt,
been flowerier, more contorted Latin (for instance, try the Dedication
to the Grand Duke of Tuscany placed at the head of Galileo’s Starry
Messenger) than Geulincx’ here, in that portion of the work in which
extravagantly, even ridiculously flowery language was considered at
the time to be de rigueur; but Geulincx does not disappoint:
For the roof of this temple is Ethics. And what of Politics? It is but
an arch in this roof. Those for whom the welfare of a Commonwealth
depends on something other than this virtuous firmament (I mean the
roof of this temple) are a world away from the truth. He who has sus-
pended the lantern of his counsels from human subtlety often glitters
for a little while: the puerile admire him, and toadies flatter; but soon,
snuffed out and guttering amidst smoke and stench, he crashes down
onto the onlookers, showering them with his innards, and bruising
their noddles. Experience, the dominatrix of fools, teaches it all too
well with a spiky rod, today as of yore.
Yet even in such a passage, we observe something else going on:
the syntax following the movement not of some periodic structure,
but of his thought, trying, as it were to catch his thought in motion,
as he is borne along by his avidness to explain himself to anyone
who is listening, reaching for this, that, or any other metaphor that
might elucidate rather than obscure his meaning (whatever his suc-
cess or lack of it in particular cases), pausing to correct himself, in
a word talking rather than writing (and I have everywhere punctuated
the text accordingly). And this is the scene as I like to imagine it:
Through the high, narrow casements of an upper chamber, watery, autumnal sun-
light slants down upon half-a-dozen men of student age, seated on wooden benches.
Facing them in a creaking armchair sits an older (though not all that much older)
man with a foxy, rubicund Flemish face, wearing a shabby, fur-trimmed gown.
translator’s preface xiii
His hand raised before him in a prehensile gesture, he is embarked upon a sen-
tence, delineating the family responsibilities of the Cardinal Virtues. But for all
his eagerness, all the twirling of his verbal net, the subject is about to escape from
him; he requires a single epithet in order to secure it; he finds the epithet. The
silence that ensues on the conclusion of the sentence is at length broken not by a
murmur of agreement from the meagre audience but by a shrill little cry coming
from downstairs; reminding his hearers that, unlike almost all the eminent philoso-
phers of the age, their teacher is not a childless celibate, but a family man—and
reminding us that this chamber is not a hall of the University, but (more likely)
the unofficial private academy that so annoyed those same Curators whom he flattered
as “most noble and most generous sirs”, and whose merest nod or frown he declared
would be enough to cause him willingly to rewrite his entire opus . . .
Or perhaps, likelier still, Geulincx sits alone, celibate for the nonce,
in his cramped study, that theatre of the mind, lecturing to imagi-
nary students, reading aloud (in an age that still regarded reading
in silence as spooky) his own inchoate thoughts. And the result of
this communing is at length something more substantial than a mot
juste. For Geulincx does not have references, he has afterthoughts; he
does not write footnotes to the main text in footnote language; he
writes Annotations. Only at one remove, in a few Annotations, does
he descend to footnotes, doubtless alive to the comic effect of anno-
tating Annotations, parodying scholarship. You then, imaginary stu-
dents, are more privileged than those few real students, and this is
not just Geulincx’ mind, but your mind, readers.
To convey all the earthy colours, not only of the words but of
the world of the Ethics in bleached contemporary English would, I
concluded, have been impossible. But to convey them in any form
whatsoever would have been equally impossible without the unique
judgement and expertise of my collaborators, Dr. Han van Ruler
and Dr. Anthony Uhlmann. It is to these two guides that I now
commend you.
MW
INTRODUCTION
If it has been the conviction of many times and places that the need
to take action in life should not compel us to fixate on desired effects,
Arnold Geulincx’ Ethics is the seventeenth-century expression of a
more universal plea for mental detachment. With its focus on the
Will of God rather than fortune, nature or fate, it fitted well with
the general spirit of the European Baroque. In the wake of the
Reformation, there was a religious trauma to deal with, and calls
for a complete dedication to the divine could be heard far beyond
Calvinist Leiden and Jansenist Louvain. Yet in its curious combina-
tion of ethical, metaphysical and epistemological views, in its par-
ticular blend of philosophy, science and religion, Geulincx’ Ethics is
a book that stands all on its own.
Arnold Geulincx (1624–1669) moved from Louvain to Leiden in
1658, the short distance separating Catholic from Protestant lands
that had still been united a few generations before. Whether the
young and successful philosopher had planned to go north on his
own initiative remains unclear. He is said to have made an initial
visit to Leiden in 1657, but in January 1658, Geulincx was suddenly
dismissed from his Louvain University post. Since the circumstances
of his deposition have always been clouded in mystery, what caused
the Louvain professors to dismiss their young colleague in such a
summary manner has been the subject of wild speculation. Geulincx
may have had doctrinal disagreements with them, and an eighteenth-
century source, partly based on documents now lost, also mentions
financial debts.1 Yet it is equally possible that Geulincx was being
punished for engaging in a sexual relationship with Susanna Strickers,
a girl from the countryside who may have been his cousin and was
to become his wife.2
1
Cf. Jean Noël Paquot, Memoires pour servir a l’histoire litteraire des dix-sept provinces
des Pays-Bas, de la principauté de Liege, et de quelque contrées voisines, vol. 13, Louvain: De
l’imprimerie academique, 1768, 69. Details on the life of Arnold Geulincx as well
as references to further literature may be found in my article in Wiep van Bunge
et al., The Dictionary of Seventeenth and Eighteenth-Century Dutch Philosophers, Bristol:
Thoemmes Press, 2003, vol. 1, 322–331.
2
The first to offer the idea that his relationship with Susanna may have been
the reason for Geulincx’ dismissal was J.P.N. Land, who suggested in 1887 that
xvi introduction
Geulincx had married Susanna against university rules. Cf. J.P.N. Land, ‘Arnold
Geulincx te Leiden (1658–1669)’, in Verslagen en Mededeelingen der Koninklijke Akademie
van Wetenschappen, Afdeeling Letterkunde, 3rd series, vol. 3 (1887), 277–327. Note that
when Geulincx’ predecessor William Philippi (1600–1665) had been allowed to
marry, it was expressly stated that he would be the last Louvain academic to be
granted such a privilege. Cf. Paquot, Memoires, vol. 7, 212—a source suggested to
Land by Victor Vander Haeghen: ‘La faculté obtint cependant que les professeurs
(de philosophie) qui se marieroient à l’avenir seroient privés de leur chaire; ce qui
a toujours été observé depuis.’ On Philippi, see also Georges Monchamp, Histoire
du cartésianisme en Belgique, Brussels: Hayez, 1886, 317 ff.
3
A. Eekhof, ‘De wijgeer Arnoldus Geulincx te Leuven en te Leiden’, Nederlandsch
Archief voor Kerkgeschiedenis, new series, nr 15 (1919), 1–24. The Latin text of the letter
is reproduced on pp. 18–20.
introduction xvii
4
Cf. my forthcoming article ‘L’amour de Dieu pour le sage. Notions philosophiques
de la béatitude d’Érasme à Spinoza’.
5
Seneca, De vita beata ad Gallionem I, 1. Translation from John W. Basore’s edi-
tion: Seneca, Moral Essays, volume 2, Cambridge, Mass., and London: Harvard
University Press, 1932, 99. Cf. Arnold Geulincx, Gnothi Seauton, Sive (. . .) Ethica,
Leiden: A. Severini, 1675/Amsterdam: Jansenio-Waesbergii, 1691, A4/Revised edition
xviii introduction
Even in a motto like this, however, the editor, too, chose to distance
himself from the ancients. Where Seneca had said that taking the
wrong road might lead one away in the opposite direction, a curi-
ous line was added, explaining that this was what ‘usually happens
today and previously happened in all the schools of the Pagans.’
Seneca had presumably fallen into the trap he himself had warned
against. What was needed to avoid it, according to Geulincx, was
to work on one’s motivation. He agreed with some of the ancients
that the road to wisdom could not be based on habitual and instinc-
tive drives, but had to be found through a cultivated concern for
one’s own conduct and a concentrated compliance with the law of
Reason. What he rejected in their systems was their inability to see
that such compliance could not be based on selfish motivations.
Laws, according to Geulincx, never correspond to obvious forms
of self-interest, or they would not be laws. In an annotation to the
Preface of the Ethics, Geulincx refers to the marginal notes of his
own Dutch edition (1667) of Treatise I, where he had stated and
restated this crucial point.6 A law, ‘inasmuch as it is a law,’ does
not aim at the advantage of those who are held to observe it; it is
by definition a ‘burden’ that has to be ‘enforced’.7 Accusing all
ancient philosophers of being preoccupied with self-interest, Geulincx
showed himself to be well aware of the element of souci de soi, or
‘care of the self ’, that Michel Foucault has famously presented as
an essential aspect of all moral systems of antiquity.8 Contrary to
9
See below, 218, Annotation 3.
10
See below, 50ff.
xx introduction
a free and easy life from the virtuous people who loosen up out of
respect for the human condition, and decide to accept not only life’s
hardships, but its benefits as well? Sexual indulgence was not a viable
option to discuss in the context of post-Reformation thought, but if
one of the crucial demands of moral philosophy was to not let one-
self be overcome by the strains and sufferings we necessarily encounter,
the modern reader might as well add erotic pleasures to the class
of virtuous forms of spiritual abatement.
To Geulincx, the right intention was all that mattered. Though
the virtuous and the vicious merrymaker may be indistinguishable
on the outside, their respective aims are entirely at odds. The case
of the partygoer, Geulincx explains, is similar to that of the self-
denying puritan, who may just as well be driven by either hypocrisy
or sincerity. Such opposite attitudes are not to be distinguished on
the basis of external conduct. In fact they are very hard to distin-
guish, although it may be useful to try and distinguish them too,
since people are never entirely able to hide their inner objectives
from others. Real intentions always show!11
This still leaves Geulincx’ answer full of ambiguities. If the alter-
native is between the demands of God and reason on the one hand
and one’s egoistically motivated drives and inclinations on the other,
one will hardly ever be able to assess the moral status of one’s acts
of indulgence. Such dilemmas are no doubt the sum and substance
of religious distress with respect to one’s own integrity and sincer-
ity. Though it may seem to trouble the Calvinist mind in particu-
lar, it is in fact a problem for all philosophical interpretations of
religious systems that distinguish self-centred from virtuous intentions
and promise spiritual rewards on account of the latter. If philoso-
phy was to interpret religious aims in terms of spiritual enlighten-
ment, it would remain hard to disentangle Christian moral thought
from the naturalistic views of the ancients, who had simply presented
moral autonomy in terms of a care of the self.
The dilemma was well exemplified in the 1696 edition of Geulincx’
Ethics, in which the editors added to the already mutilated motto
from Seneca a quotation from René Descartes, expressing a similar
11
See below, page 53, as well as 276, towards the end of Annotations 11 and
14: even though virtous men and vicious men may do the same, ‘they still do it
differently.’
introduction xxi
The air was full of expectation in and around Leiden in the early
1660’s. Descartes’ new philosophy had included a new science of
man that was transforming accepted beliefs with regard to the soul’s
operations. Whereas mental life had previously been defined in purely
psychological terms, Descartes’ Les Passions de l’Âme (1649) inaugurated
a way of reasoning that took an interest in the nervous system and
the brain. An even better model for what was later to become the
subject matter of the life sciences was Descartes’ book On Man. In
1662 it was first published in a Latin translation in Leiden by Floren-
tius Schuyl (1619–1669), who would soon become Geulincx’ colleague.13
Schuyl too was a champion of the Augustinian type of Cartesianism
encouraged by Heidanus. He earned a certain reputation for his
essay on the uniqueness of the soul in human beings, which he
12
René Descartes, Discours de la méthode, AT VI, 7–8. Translation from CSM I,
114. Cf. Arnold Geulincx, Gnothi Seauton, Sive (. . .) Ethica, ed. Johannes Flenderus
and Abraham Hazeu, Amsterdam: Janssonio-Waesbergii, 1696, A4v.
13
Schuyl became professor of medicine in 1664 and died, together with Geulincx,
in the Leiden plague of 1669. Cf. The Dictionary of Seventeenth and Eighteenth-Century
Dutch Philosophers, Bristol: Thoemmes Press, 2003, vol. 2, 905–909. Further: G.A.
Lindeboom, Florentius Schuyl (1619–1669) en zijn betekenis voor het Cartesianisme in de
geneeskunde, The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff, 1974 and Leonora Cohen Rosenfield,
From Beast-Machine to Man-Machine: Animal Soul in French Letters from Descartes to La
Mettrie, New York: Diss. Columbia University, 1940/New York: Octagon Books,
1968, 245–249 esp.
xxii introduction
14
At the time, only the Danish student and later scientist and Catholic prelate
Niels Stensen (or Nicolaus Steno, 1638–1686) seems to have taken pity on the fright-
ened animals that underwent operation. Cf. Gerrit A. Lindeboom, ‘Dog and Frog.
Physiological experiments at Leiden during the seventeenth century’, in Th.H.
Lunsingh Scheurleer and G.H.M. Posthumus Meyjes (eds), Leiden University in the
Seventeenth Century. An Exchange of Learning, Leiden: Brill, 1975, 281.
15
Cf. Yves Marie André/Augustin Marie Pierre Ingold (ed.), La Vie du R.P.
Malebranche, prêtre de l’Oratoire, avec l’histoire de ses ouvrages, Paris: Librairie Poussielgue
frères, 1886/reprint Genève: Slatkine, 1970, 12.
introduction xxiii
Did it never happen to you, as it did to me, that whilst reciting your
prayers you did not pay any attention to what you were saying, but
that you still continued to say your prayers instantly without failing,
much better in fact than if you had paid a lot of attention to it? This
shows that it is only the mainspring of the machine that unwinds itself
and slackens its cord.16
Descartes had managed to banish the notion of the soul to such an
extent from a scientific description of the body that Cartesians now
claimed a neurophysiological automatism might be responsible even
for what we mumble in prayer.
In such a context, the division of labour between body and soul
had to be reconsidered all over again. What if the world of nature,
including our own bodies, were really a single and complex machine,
the actions and movements of which behaved with complete regu-
larity? A more fundamental question occurred at the moment of wil-
ful intervention, or training. If a sudden attentiveness in prayer makes
a difference to the mechanical process of recitation, what are we to
say of the power of the mind to change such a process? Are inde-
pendent processes instantly rearranged at the exceptional occurrence
of a conscious mental state? How can a mind, if it is really a sin-
gularity within the clockwork of nature, influence the body or be
influenced by it? It was the metaphysical reformulation of these puz-
zles in terms of causal agency that would give Arnold Geulincx the
dubious honour of being classed among those whom history has
labelled ‘occasionalists’.
Geulincx argued that experience and the study of human anatomy
may well teach us ‘how and where motion is distributed through
our limbs.’ Like Clerselier, however, he understood that such knowl-
edge would not help us move them. Indeed, if we want
to use that kind of experience to control the motion of our body, so
far from helping us it will make matters worse, and plainly render us
feeble and ineffective.17
In whatever way mind-body cooperation worked, the influence of
consciousness was not necessarily advantageous to the production of
a particular effect. If natural causes were anything like natural souls,
all processes would be hampered rather than advanced. But then
16
Claude Clerselier, ‘Préface’, in Louis de la Forge, L’homme de René Descartes,
Paris: Jacques le Gras, 1664/ed. Thierry Gontier, Paris: Fayard, 1999, 55.
17
See below, 229, Annotation 12.
xxiv introduction
what are causes? Ever since the troubles between Descartes and
Voetius back in the 1640’s, it had been clear to the supporters of
the modernists’ position that the main problem with Scholastic physics
had been its acceptance of soul-like causal factors within nature, peri-
patetic philosophy’s ‘substantial forms’.18 Those who followed Descartes,
rejected the forms, arguing that they were unnecessary metaphysi-
cal agents that added nothing to the explanation of natural processes.
Matter in motion and the disposition of its parts sufficiently explained
nature’s ways, so that only a single hypothesis was needed; viz. that
God had initially imparted motion on a universe of undifferentiated
matter, upon which all subsequent clockwork processes followed with-
out further factors interfering. Substantial forms were ridiculed as
philosophical relics from a bygone age by the likes of Heidanus, in
much the same way as Molière was to ridicule the notion of a ‘dor-
mitive power’ in opium.19 It was only the more philosophically
inclined, such as Leibniz and Spinoza, who still sought to invest
nature with the causal power of ‘substance’ and its ‘action’.
Geulincx saw no need for natural causes besides God. Indeed, as
he formulated it himself, the Scholastics had illegimately ‘enlisted
natural things as efficient causes.’ As an alternative to the metaphor
of causal activity, Geulincx therefore introduced the metaphor of an
18
Cf. J.A. van Ruler, The Crisis of Causality: Voetius and Descartes on God, Nature and
Change, Leiden: Brill, 1995.
19
Molière’s Le Malade imaginaire (1673) ends with a marvellous graduation scene
(3rd intermezzo), in which a medical candidate replies to the first question posed
to him by an opponent that ‘the cause and reason why opium induces sleep’ is
because it has a ‘dormitive power’: ‘Mihi à docto Doctore/Domandatur causam &
rationem, quare/Opium facit dormire?/A quoy respondeo,/Quia est in eo/Virtus
dormativa,/Cujus est natura/Sensus assoupire.’ This satified the doctors and apothe-
caries present: ‘Bene, bene, bene, bene respondere/Dignus, dignus est entrare/In
nostro docto corpore.’ Cf. Molière, Le Malade imaginaire, Comedie, Meslée de Musique,
& de Dançe. Representée sur le Theatre du Palais Royal, Paris: Christophe Ballard, 1673,
30. Heidanus similarly argued that substantial forms merely masked ignorance. See
e.g. Bedenkingen, Op den Staat des Geschils, Over de Cartesiaensche Philosophie, En op de Nader
Openinghe Over eenige stucken de Theologie raeckende, Rotterdam: Johannes Benting, 1656,
7–8: ‘Tis seker anders niet als een bevvijs van onze armoede en gebrek van beter,
dat vvy tot noch toe, om niet sonder Philosophie te sijn, ons hebben moeten behelpen
met sulke stollen en van alle kanten tsamen geraapte stukken (. . .) die alleen maar
in vvoorden bestaan. (. . .) Dat by aldien men alleen vveet gevvach te maaken van
een Nature, forma substantialis, occulta qualitas, sympathia, antipathia, en vvat
diergelijke termen meer is (. . .). Voorvvaar een gereden vvegh om sonder eenige
studien en ondersouk, op staande voet, en sonder bedenken van alles datmen vveet
en niet en vveet, sijn oordeel te konnen uytspreken, en voor een goet Philosooph
gehouden te vverden!’ The critique of the forms is continued on pages 12, 68, 75
and 83.
introduction xxv
instrument: all causality lies with the Mover, who produces the ‘great
variety of effects for our senses’ using ‘motions and the various parts
of matter on which he impresses them as if they were his instru-
ments.’20 That would leave all causality to God, who makes nature
unwind itself without there being any interference by secondary causal
production factors. But what of our own soul? Is it not a singular
and exceptional centre of causality? According to Geulincx, this would
only be true if the soul would actually interfere with nature, which,
he says, is never the case. Our causality rests wholly within the mind,
where we are free to think and will and experience. We may well
function biologically and even psychologically without making much
use of free will. It is only by thinking and willing that we really
make use of our freedom and it is at this point that ethics and moral-
ity come into the picture. We are moral agents within the cavern
of our soul whenever we are determined to act in a certain way.
In fact, according to Geulincx, we are only moral agents. Lacking
the causal power to interfere in a universe deprived of agents besides
God, what we are left with is to think and will within the mental
realm and depend on nature—or rather ‘God’s will’—to see our
volitions satisfied. Geulincx’ famous images of the two clocks and of
the baby in its cradle—rocked when it wants it to be rocked, though
unable to rock the cradle itself—are meant to illustrate the funda-
mental axiom of God’s unique causality.21 Yet strangely enough, this
notion of our total dependence on God plays hardly any part on
the practical side of Geulincx’ ethics. The only metaphysical idea of
direct relevance to morality is the awareness of the human condi-
tion itself. Metaphysics will make us realise that we are conscious
beings trapped in a material world.
In his metaphysical views, Geulincx shows a proto-existentialist
attention to ‘being there’ which is not unlike that of his French
Jansenist contemporary Blaise Pascal. Its moral consequence, for
Geulincx, was one of acceptance. One cannot choose to live, nor
die by simply willing it. To accept such a position will imply that
one avoids suicide and prepares for anything that may be necessary
for the continuation of the condition one finds oneself in. The main
rationale for this is the idea that our unsolicited birth seems naturally
to imply that we should preserve this condition. Geulincx’ God is
20
See below, Annotation 9, 226.
21
See below, 39; as well as 232, Annotation 19; and 249–250, Annotations 6
and 7.
xxvi introduction
primarily to be seen as the one who put us here. For the rest, His
operations are as natural as they must be for us to be able to know
what to seek and avoid. Geulincx accordingly never uses the occa-
sionalist idea of a will trapped inside a body in order to dispute the
need for action. His metaphysics functions primarily as a means for
getting to know the human predicament. Yet it does have a further
role to play insofar as it gives rise to a morally relevant epistemology.
A mind trapped inside a body has no initial information about
its surroundings. It will slowly have to learn how to cope with it.
Knowledge, in its Cartesian interpretation, is therefore always a ques-
tion of degrees. What Geulincx liked most about Descartes was the
latter’s theory of error and in particular the subject matter of Principia
Philosophia I, 71: the way in which a child gets in touch with the
world that surrounds it.22 Having lived and acted primarily on the
basis of first impressions, it later learns how these impressions have
come about. Such rational reconstructions are the essence of Cartesian
science. Geulincx’ contribution was that he distinguished three lev-
els of awareness, depending on the ways in which we come into
contact with the world. If there is a collision between our body and
the outside world that we are not aware of—such as happens in
sight and hearing—we attribute the sounds and images to things
that exist apart form us. If, however, we feel the collision, we localise
the sense of touch or pain in our own limbs. If a feeling is caused
within our body without being accompanied by pain, we do not
localise it at all, and simply judge that ‘we ourselves’ are hungry.23
All these projections are accompanied by forms of sensory illusion
on account of which we attribute colours, sounds and smells to the
things as they are in themselves. It is ‘wisdom’, according to Geulincx,
to attain the stage of epistemological continence at which we no
longer attribute our experiences to what may have been their cause.
This, however, does not mean that we will no longer be prone to
error. A child may think that a pole sticking out of a clear pool of
water is broken or bent at the point where the stick meets the sur-
face. A grown-up will have learned that this is not the case and that
the laws of refraction cause a straight stick to seem bent. Yet even
22
Sensation, according to Geulincx, begins in the womb. See below, 277,
Annotation 2.
23
Arnold Geulincx, Metaphysica ad Mentem Peripateticam, Introduction, Section 2,
and Annotations, in Opera II, 202 and 301 in particular.
introduction xxvii
a grown-up will see a bent stick and will always remain inclined to
believe his senses.
Moral wisdom, according to Geulincx, is based on overcoming
similar illusions in the ethical domain. In the fourth part of his Ethics,
a clear parallel is drawn between, on the one hand, our epistemo-
logical proclivity to attribute impressions to the natural processes that
have occasioned them, and our moral proclivity to act on the basis
of passionate incentives on the other. Again, the aim of total sover-
eignty is delusive, since no-one will ever be free of passionate dri-
ves and inclinations. So long as the human condition lasts, pure
knowledge will be obscured by automatic mental proclivities in both
the scientific and the moral realm—which is why Geulincx often
freely shifts between science and morals, taking the liberty, for instance,
to illustrate an epistemological argument by pointing to a text that
for nearly two centuries had been the focal point of confessional
morality: the letters of St. Paul. Not to achieve the heights of wisdom,
says Geulincx, is never a sin in itself. If ‘I do that which I would
not’, as the Apostle says, ‘it is no more I that do it, but sin that
dwelleth in me.’24
Cartesianism here aligned itself with Christian convictions. The
lack of knowledge in childhood makes us interpret our experience
in illusory ways. Whatever haughty Stoicism held attainable in terms
of wisdom, these original sensations designed for our blind survival
will never be fully drowned out by the later use of reason. Yet like
his contemporary Spinoza, it is on the basis of this Cartesian epis-
temology that Geulincx draws a moral ideal: subsequent levels of
knowledge may still transform our first impressions to such an extent
that from first impressions we may ultimately arrive at a love of
God. Presenting ‘wisdom’ to his Leiden students as a fourth grade
of knowledge and telling them that an ultimate form of happiness
lay hidden in beginning ‘to understand something about God’ and
in sharing this with others, Geulincx’ philosophy was a Christian
blueprint for Spinoza.25
24
Romans 7: 16–17. Cf. Geulincx, Annotata ad Metaphysicam, Annotation to
Metaphysica ad Mentem Peripateticam, Introduction, Section 2, in Opera II, 302.
25
Arnold Geulincx, Metaphysica Vera, Part 3, “Sexta Scientia” in Opera II, 192–193
and 291–293. Cf. Metaphysics, 105–107.
xxviii introduction
26
Cf. Steven Nadler, Spinoza. A Life. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1999, 163–173.
27
See my article ‘Geulincx and Spinoza: Books, Backgrounds and Biographies’,
to be published in Studia Spinozana.
28
[Cornelis Bontekoe,] ‘Preface’ to Arnold Geulincx, Gnothi Seauton, Sive (. . .)
Ethica. Leiden: A. Severini, 1675/ed. Amsterdam, Jansonius-Waesbergii, 1691,
*3v–*4/ed. Johannes Flenderus and Abraham Hazeu, Amsterdam, Jansonius-
Waesbergii, 1696, *7v–[*8]. On the reception of Spinoza’s ideas prior to the pub-
lication of his Ethics, see Wiep van Bunge, From Stevin to Spinoza: An Essay on Philosophy
in the Seventeenth-Century Dutch Republic, Leiden: Brill, 2001, 108–118.
introduction xxix
29
Ruardus Andala, Examen Ethicae Clar. Geulingii. sive Dissertationum Philosophicarum,
in quibus praemissa Introductione sententiae quaedam paradoxae ex Ethica Clar. Geulingii exami-
nantur, Pentas, Franeker: Wibius Bleck, 1716, ‘Preface’ and 23.
30
Jean de Crousaz, Essay sur le Mouvement où l’on traitte de sa Nature, de son Origine,
de sa Communication en general, des Chocs des Corps qu’on suppose parfaitement Solides, du
Plein & du Vuide, & de la Nature de la Reaction, Groningen: Coste, 1726/The Hague:
Alberts & Vander Kloot, 1728, 116–118.
31
Andala, Examen Ethicae Clar. Geulingii, 43–50.
xxx introduction
works of the devil. Yet the most striking aspect of his attitude to
matters of faith is that Geulincx invariably describes the religious
position of Christians as if it were not his own. Even if it is true
that the Christian view is always the one with which he himself con-
curs in the end, Geulincx nevertheless objectified the Christian posi-
tion in such a way that it comes into view as simply one of the
many alternative viewpoints.
Such is no doubt the price to pay for a Christian ethics. Presenting
a religious position as the one that best suits human psychological
and spiritual needs, one will naturally arrive at an outcome in which
the religious position has no relevant properties beyond its psycho-
logical efficacy and will lose the distinctive identity it had in the
purely religious context. It is no surprise that both Geulincx and
Spinoza ended up with a theory of morals that included a philoso-
pher’s creed as opposed to the vulgar beliefs of the many and that
neither in practice drifted very far away from the Stoic position that
they both were so critical of in theory. In their standardization of
human emotions, philosophers might offer a variety of psychologi-
cal distinctions that everyday language never made use of.32 And
with respect to the goal of philosophy, moral thinkers of the six-
teenth and seventeenth century were in remarkable agreement. The
universal goal was to attain that uncanny happiness or tranquillity,
that ‘inward and secret joy’ of which Erasmus had said that it is
‘known only by those who have achieved it.’33 Geulincx’ pupil Cornelis
Bontekoe (c. 1644–1685) considered a ‘sweet affection (soete genegen-
heit)’ to all things (and to God in particular) as well as a ‘lasting hap-
piness ( gedurige vreugde)’ as the goal of both the ‘good philosopher’
and the ‘enlightened Christian’.34 Geulincx himself equally under-
lines the private and inexplicable character of delights known only
to the virtuous:
32
Geulincx for instance argues that it is permissible to forge names for unnamed
passions in Annotation 9, page 212, below. Spinoza likewise accepted the existence
of passions for which there are no names. Cf. Spinoza, Ethica III, 22, Scholium and
III, Definitions of the Affects 19 and 20, Explicatio.
33
Desiderius Erasmus, Enchiridion militis Christiani, ed. Hayo and Annemarie
Holborn, Ausgewählte Werke, Band 1, München: Beck, 1933 (19642), p. 40. Translation
from Raymond Himelick (ed.), The Enchiridion of Erasmus, Bloomington: Indiana
University Press, 1963, 62.
34
Cornelis Bontekoe, Opbouw der Medicyne, Chapter 13, ‘Van de middelen, om
het Leven en de Gesondheid lang te bewaren, sich voor Siektens te hoeden, en
d’Ouderdom en Dood een langen tijd af te weren’, in Alle de Philosophische, Medicinale
en Chymische Werken, Amsterdam: Jan ten Hoorn, 1689, vol. 2, 231.
introduction xxxi
Spiritual joys may hide actual pains. Arnold Geulincx, for one, was
obsessed with suicide.39 The man who had suffered public disgrace
35
See below, 61.
36
See below, 210, Annotation 5.
37
Spinoza, Ethics, book 5, proposition 36, scholium. Translations from Edwin
Curley (ed.), A Spinoza Reader: The Ethics and Other Works, Princeton: Princeton
University Press, 1994, 260–261.
38
Samuel Beckett, Murphy, London: Routledge, 1938/London: Pan Books and
Calder & Boyars, 1973, Chapter 6, 63–66, quotations from 65 and 66.
39
See, for instance, Annotation 5 on page 246, below, which it is hard not to
read as a personal outcry: ‘I intend from the bottom of my heart that I will not
give up the ghost out of disgust with life and the miseries of man’s lot; but what
I am actually going either to do or not to do, God alone knows.’
xxxii introduction
40
Geulincx would never regain anything like his former Louvain status of senior
professor. Debts and poverty haunted him, which probably explains why, at the
time of Susanna’s death in late 1669 (or in the first days of 1670), no rent had yet
been paid for the house on Steenschuur which he and his wife had been living in
since October 1668. Cf. E.F. Kossmann, ‘De laatste woning van Arnold Geulincx’,
in Bijdragen voor Vaderlandsche Geschiedenis en Oudheidkunde, seventh series, nr 3 (1933),
136–138. With only six professors being commemorated on the bronze medals that
were issued in January 1670 as a memorial to the plague, Geulincx seems to have
been overlooked. Cf. Victor Vander Haeghen, Geulincx. Étude sur sa vie, sa philosophie
et ses ouvrages, Gent: Eug. Vanderhaegen, 1886, 17–18.
41
See below, 49.
42
See below, 143.
introduction xxxiii
43
Cf. D.J. McCracken, Thinking and Valuing. An Introduction, Partly Historical, to the
Study of the Philosophy of Value, London: MacMillan and Co., 1950, 138.
44
Slavoj ¥i≥ek, Tarrying with the negative. Kant, Hegel, and the Critique of Ideology,
Durham: Duke University Press, 1993, 216–218.
45
Slavoj ¥i≥ek, ‘Is It Possible Not to Love Spinoza?’, in Organs without Bodies. On
Deleuze and Consequences, New York: Routledge, 2004, 33–41.
46
Martha Nussbaum, Upheavals of Thought: The Intelligence of Emotions, Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2001, in which Spinoza’s position on love is discussed
primarily in Chapter 10, § 4, 500 ff. The quotation is from page 14.
xxxiv introduction
47
John Cottingham, Philosophy and the good life. Reason and the passions in Greek,
Cartesian and psychoanalytic ethics, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998.
Quotations from pages 137–138 and 166.
48
Spinoza, Ethics IV, 53.
49
See below, 293–294, Annotation 14.
50
Susan James, Passion and Action. The Emotions in Seventeenth-Century Philosophy,
Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1997/20032, 1.
introduction xxxv
different from ourselves. How things have changed since the times
when a university professor would teach his students the delights of
going against their passions! How different are we, who talk of love
and care of the self, from those for whom self-love was seen as an
infringement on the love of God. Nor do our post-Romantic selves
find comfort in the Augustinian idea that the spontaneity of youth
was basically a form of moral deprivation. Trained in new traditions
of psychological awareness, we no longer even share the faith, both
classical and Christian, in the philosophical black and white of a
moral happiness. And neither do we, who are so much less accus-
tomed to sickness and death and so much more informed of mankind’s
atrocities and nature’s disasters, so easily find peace in the idea of
God’s ultimate goodness—let alone in Geulincx’ morbid notion of
the supreme happiness and ‘indescribable satisfaction’ of Him to
whom we owe our fate.51
Yet it was different times that bred such different voices. The
repudiation of the passions that we find in a text such as the one
here presented may have made less of an adverse impact on the
individual psyches of its first readers for the simple reason that they
were less burdened by the moral standards we ourselves have inter-
nalized. Geulincx’ invariable message that our intentions morally
outweigh our deeds—a view common to both Augustine’s and the
Reformation’s reading of the New Testament—may well have had
a psychologically empowering effect in its own day. Combined with
the biological framework in which the passions were now set, the
new focus on mental autonomy may even have occasioned a certain
permissiveness with respect to the affairs of the body. Because of the
prominence that authors like Geulincx, Bontekoe and Spinoza gave
to the chaste delights of the mind and to the idea of mentally over-
coming the power of the passions, it would seem excessive to read
into their works a plea for sexual liberation. Yet they may have been
read as libertines by others.52 Both Geulincx and Spinoza, in any
51
See below, 97–98.
52
Jonathan Israel discusses pleas for sexual liberation in authors influenced by
Spinoza in Chapter 4 of his Radical Enlightenment: Philosophy and the Making of Modernity
1650 –1750, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001, 82–96. Inger Leemans has
pointed to publisher Timotheus ten Hoorn’s (1644–1715) joint interest in pornog-
raphy, Spinozism and Cartesian medicine and philosophy. Cf. Inger Leemans, Het
woord is aan de onderkant: Radicale ideeën in Nederlandse pornografische romans 1670–1700,
Nijmegen: Vantilt, 2002, 278–281.
xxxvi introduction
53
Cf. Michiel Wielema, The March of the Libertines. Spinozists and the Dutch Reformed
Church (1660 –1750), Hilversum: Verloren, 2004. Carolus Tuinman argued that
besides Spinoza, it was Geulincx who had inspired libertinism in Zeeland. Cf.
Carolus Tuinman, A. Geulinx Medemaat van B. de Spinoza, en der Vrygeesten, in: Carolus
Tuinman, De liegende en bedriegende vrijgeest ontmaskert, Middelburg: Jacobus Boter, Simon
Clement and Willeboord Eling, 1715.
54
For the quotation, see below, 291, Annotation 7.
55
Zygmunt Bauman, Identity. Conversations with Benedetto Vecchi, Cambridge: Polity
Press, 2005, 74.
56
Paul Hazard, La crise de la conscience européenne (1680–1715), Paris: Boivin, 1935,
vol. 2, 131. Translation by J. Lewis May, in Paul Hazard, The European Mind
[1680 –1715], Cleveland and New York: World Publishing Company, 1963, 328.
introduction xxxvii
Classic forms of constantia for the individual’s inner life aligned them-
selves with the social demands that made the early-modern citizen
an autonomous moral persona.
Inspectio Sui
57
Søren Kierkegaard, Papirer, ed. P.A. Heiberg and V. Kuhr, Copenhagen:
Gyldendal, 1912/ed. Niels Thulstrup, Copenhagen: Gyldendal, 1968, vol. 4, 61.
Translation from Howard V. Hong, Edna H. Hong and Gregor Malanschuk (eds),
Søren Kierkegaard’s Journals and Papers, vol. 1, Bloomington: Indiana University Press,
1967, 450.
xxxviii introduction
58
Cornelis Verhoeven, Het axioma van Geulincx, Bilthoven: Ambo, 1973, 78.
59
Christian Thomasius, Cautelae circa Praecognita Jurisprudentiae in Auditorii Thomasiani,
Halle: Renger, 1710, 225.
60
Ernst Cassirer, Das Erkenntnisproblem in der Philosophie und Wissenschaft der neueren
Zeit, vol. 1 Berlin: Bruno Cassirer, 19223/reprint Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buch-
gesellschaft, 1974, 462.
introduction xxxix
1986, the general editors made sure to mention in their preface that
the new experimental philosophy of the late 1600s had made clear
that ‘the axiom on which Geulincx had built his ethics, was unsound.’61
The only substantial argument against it, however, came from
David Hume, who said it was to no avail that ‘the Cartesians’ had
recourse ‘to a supreme spirit or deity, whom they consider as the
only active being in the universe, and as the immediate cause of
every alteration in matter.’ Hume’s line of reasoning is complicated
by his own epistemological preoccupations, yet he manages to get
across the idea that the problem of finding an efficacious principle
of causation in known objects, whether they be material or spiritual,
will never be solved by introducing a divine spirit to perform the
action for them. If the Cartesians argue that there are no causal
forces in nature ‘because ’tis impossible to discover’ such powers,
‘the same course of reasoning shou’d determine them to exclude it
from the supreme being.’62
Yet Geulincx had been aware of this from the start. As he tells
us in his Metaphysics: ‘Not only do we not understand the modality
of such things as these, but also we understand that we can never
understand them,’ which is why ‘even though our human condition
is rightly called ineffable,’ it is rather God Himself who is ‘an ineffable
Father.’63 Prefiguring Hume’s argument, he adds that it is not only
unclear how God ‘overcomes infinite power in order to move and
divide bodies,’ but also how ‘He does so as a Mind.’ Yet contrary
to Hume, this does not discourage Geulincx in the least. Seeing that
God will have ‘to do something more in order to effect the motion
that He has willed’ than simply to will it,
it must be frankly admitted that the modality of motion is beyond our
conception, and that in this, His role as Mover, He is also ineffable.64
61
M.J. Petry and J. Sperna Weiland, Preface to Arnout Geulincx, Van de hoofd-
deugden: De eerste tuchtverhandeling, ed. Cornelis Verhoeven, Geschiedenis van de wijs-
begeerte in Nederland 10, Baarn: Ambo, 1986, 9. The editors may have had in
mind either Geulincx’ axiom ‘What I do not know how to do is not my action’
or ‘Wherein you have no power, therein you should not will’. Exactly in what way
either of these two maxims was disproved by the ‘new experimental philosophy’ is
not further explained.
62
David Hume, A Treatise of Human Nature I, 3, 14, ed. L.A. Selby-Bigge/P.H.
Nidditch, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1978, 160.
63
Arnold Geulincx, Metaphysica Vera, Part 3, ‘Tertia Scientia’, in Opera II, 188
and 288. Translations from Metaphysics, 97–98.
64
Geulincx, Metaphysica Vera, Part 3, ‘Tertia Scientia’, 3rd Annotation to p. 191,
in Opera II, 290–291. Translations from Metaphysics, 104–105.
xl introduction
It is quite clear that Geulincx had written and rewritten his first
Treatise of Ethics in the 1660s in a continuous state of intellectual
thrill. The final work, which is the combined product of the origi-
nal Treatise, the later commentaries on it by the author, and the
drafts for five more Treatises, still bears the marks of an excited rap-
ture and an intellectual conviction that leaves hardly any room for
systematic questioning and philosophical dialogue.
At the same time, few writers will admit to such paradoxes as
those in which Geulincx gets himself entangled. Drawing towards a
dramatic finale at the end of the first Treatise, he writes:
Humility carries her fruit in a box; but O! let her not unlock it!65
Unlocking the treasure-chest of virtue, however, is exactly what this
book itself had intended to do, viz. to arrive at a natural ethics, a
theory of morals on a purely philosophical basis. Despite his occa-
sional grandiloquence, Geulincx seems to have gathered more than
once that this was actually an impossibly difficult project, and full
of paradox. When, in his Metaphysics, Geulincx explains what it means
to be human, he apologetically adds: ‘My philosophy is admittedly
rather obscure, though clear and easy to understand when one has
heard it explained.’66 In the Ethics, he admits that ‘the vulgar call
us insane, holding that this business of self-inspection leads to stark
raving madness, not to wisdom.’67 At times, his own annotations
conflict with the main text of his work.68
Yet it is exactly for its acceptance of the paradoxes of human psy-
chology that Geulincx’ Ethics remains invaluable. If his conclusions
were premature, it was not because of eccentricity or hastiness. It
was rather the result of overconfidence. The intuition Geulincx shared
with other ‘occasionalist’ Cartesians, was that the allocation of func-
tions between the human will and its neurological input would some-
how lead to a new understanding of the conflicts of human psychology
65
See below, 62.
66
Geulincx, Metaphysica Vera, Part 1, ‘Decima Scientia’, 1st Annotation to p. 154,
in Opera II, 270–271. Translation from Metaphysics, 42–43.
67
See below, 287, Annotation 11.
68
The ‘complete foundation for Ethics’, for instance, that he formulated in his
own commentary on the passage on taking care of one’s body and race, is in fact
a third axiom that neutralises his official axiom that says ‘Wherein you have no
power, therein you should not will.’ Cf. below, 268–269, Annotation 20.
introduction xli
69
Matt Ridley, The Origins of Virtue. Human Instincts and the Evolution of Cooperation,
London: Penguin, 1996/New York: Penguin, 1997, 145–146.
70
John Henry Newman, ‘Sanctity the Token of the Christian Empire’, Sermon
17, 4 December 1842, in Sermons Bearing on Subjects of the Day, London: Rivingtons,
1869/London: Longmans, Green, and Co., 1909, 245.
xlii introduction
HvR
ON THIS EDITION
1
Arnold Geulincs, Gnôthi Seauton, Sive Ethica, ed. Philarethus [Cornelis Bontekoe],
Leiden: A. Severini, 1675/Amsterdam: Jansenio-Waesbergii, 1691, ‘Typographi
Lectori S[alutem]’, s.p.
2
Cf. Opera III, 283–360.
on this edition xlv
All notes bearing asterisks, daggers, etc. (*, †, ‡, §, **), are the edi-
tors’ notes. They appear at the bottom of the page, below the foot-
note separator.
All footnotes to Samuel Beckett’s text are notes made by the editors.
ETHICS
TO THE CURATORS OF THE UNIVERSITY
OF LEIDEN*
* The first presentation of Geulincx’ moral philosophy was the Disputatio ethica de
Virtute et primis ejus proprietatibus of 26 April 1664. A year later, Treatise I of the
Ethics was published as De Virtute et Primis eius Proprietatibus, Quae vulgo virtutes cardi-
nales vocantur, Tractatus Ethicus primus, Leiden: Philips de Croy, 1665. Its dedication
to the Curators and its Address to the Gracious Reader were later reproduced in
posthumous editions of the Ethics. Both texts are also included here. Geulincx him-
self published a revised Dutch version of De Virtute in 1667 as Van de Hooft-deuch-
den. De eerste Tucht-verhandeling, Leiden: Philips de Croy, 1667.
4 to the curators of the university of leiden
This Cornice is the Study of Virtue and its Prime Attributes, which occu-
pies the pinnacle of the Temple of Wisdom. For the roof of this
Temple is Ethics. And what of Politics? It is but an arch in this
roof. Those for whom the welfare of a Commonwealth depends on
something other than this virtuous firmament (I mean, the roof of
this Temple) are a world away from the truth. He who has sus-
pended the lantern of his counsels from human subtlety often glit-
ters for a little while: the puerile admire him, and toadies flatter;
but soon, snuffed out and guttering amidst smoke and stench, he
crashes down onto the onlookers, showering them with his innards,
and bruising their noddles. Experience, the dominatrix of fools, teaches
it all too well with a spiky rod, today as of yore.
In the Temple of Wisdom, therefore, Ethics is the ceiling and the
roof. With Logic the foundation is firm and compact; with Mathematics
and Metaphysics the columns are sturdy, and the walls well tim-
bered; with Physics the floorboards and plumbing are all neatly and
elegantly fitted; but without Ethics the Temple will never be in good
repair. In fact, without Ethics it will be not a Temple but an open
pool, unworthy of holy things and sacred rites. Peeling plaster and
festering mould, obscene nests of screech-owls and little-owls, the
haunt of wild beasts, a mass of scaly snakes and worms, dreadful
and detestable, it will be gradually leached away by raindrops, threat-
ening injury to passers-by until finally it falls to ruin, more wretched
than all the hovels of unknowing and ignorance.
The roof of the Temple of Philosophy being Ethics, that Treatise
which deals most closely with Virtue itself is the apex and Cornice
of that roof, which, now dedicated to you, now distinguished by your
patronage, now duly constructed and fitted, I offer and submit to
you for your close examination as being worthy of your regard. If
you require anything in the workmanship to be changed (for there
is nothing in the material that requires to be changed, on my faith
it is all solid and sound), you have the right so to order (you are
my masters), it will be for me to carry out your orders, and wherever
you may decide that the vines and clusters of my carved work should
be gilded, I will assuredly see to it that my art shines out the bet-
ter for your munificence, and that your munificence gleams for ever
in my art. Farewell. Be well-disposed to good and worthy men. May
God be likewise well-disposed to you, to your Commonwealth of
to the curators of the university of leiden 5
ARNOLD GEULINCX
(given at Leiden, 27th July, 1665)
GRACIOUS READER,*
This is a Book on the Cardinal Virtues.1 I have taken its Name (fittingly)
from the vulgar, the Matter I have borrowed from Nature (as befitted
a Philosopher). For the Virtues as reckoned by me are not the same
as those reckoned by the vulgar. According to the vulgar, they are
Prudence, Justice, Fortitude, and Temperance; but for me they are
Diligence, Justice, Obedience, and Humility. Prudence is manifestly
out of place here (several Philosophers before me have observed that):
it is a fruit and an adminicle of Virtue, not a virtue itself. There is
agreement among us about Justice, so doubt remains only about
Fortitude and Temperance. But these can be absent from the exer-
cise of Virtue, perhaps not at the same time, but each in its turn;
for amidst adversities there is no room for Temperance, amidst
favourable things there is no room for Fortitude. (Nor do I pay any
attention to those who say that it is Fortitude not to succumb to
temptations amidst favourable things, and Temperance not to be too
fearful amidst adversities: these are just laboured Analogies, and do
not sufficiently distinguish literal from figurative speech; for not to suc-
cumb means no more than not to be enticed, which is only Temperance,
and not to be too fearful means no more than not to be terrified, which
is only Fortitude.)† But there can be no true exercise of Virtue with-
out the four virtues that I have taken as Cardinal. In order for any
action to be right, one must listen to Reason (this is Diligence), do
what Reason says (this is Obedience), do neither more nor less than
that (this is Justice), and not do it for one’s own sake (this is Humility).
These Properties are therefore inseparable from the exercise of Virtue,
and for us to do well any work of Virtue, we must be diligent, obedient,
just, and humble in the doing of it.
And just as I receive these things from Nature (as I said), so I
also accept and treat of them naturally. I intermix with them noth-
ing from sacred sources; everything comes from Reason, whatever
rivulet of it is present. Hence, during the writing I often marvelled,
* This Address is taken from the 1665 edition of De Virtute et Primis ejus proprie-
tatibus. See the footnote to the dedicatory letter to the Curators, above.
†
Also see below, 296–297.
8 gracious reader
and marvel again now,2 at how our pagans (not, of course adher-
ents of the same Religion as us, but nevertheless adherents of the
same Reason), while displaying such great ingenuity, such great spirit,
such great study and care, went so utterly astray; and did so on
such level ground, and by such a right royal highway, when they
had the advantage of that divine Oracle whose praises they never
tired of singing: Know thyself. If they had made proper use of this
thread, they would have been able not only to travel those high-
ways more easily, but even, if matters had so fallen out, to negoti-
ate the inexplicable Labyrinth. But self-love seduced them all; and
here I excuse no-one, not even great Plato, who (I admit) deserved
to be excused, if any of them deserved to be excused. With might
and main they strove one and all for the Blessed Life, and laboured
over their happiness and their desire for happiness: hence those tears.
Christians alone here are wise in some respects by virtue of their
Religion; alone, but how few among even them! The Scholastic
moralists, with their pagan masters, whose dogmas they profess, are
unsound; the Vulgar likewise, as they mostly frequent the teachers
and rhetoricians whom the Scholastics have formed.
And indeed, the Christians who are wise here are wise (as I said)
by virtue of their Religion. No-one else, as far as I know, has acted
the Philosopher here and hit the nail on the head of Natural Reason
pure and simple (for this, to me, is to philosophise). Why is that?
Am I someone uniquely more subtle than all these pagans and
Christians alike? I am not so childishly affected as to claim that
much for myself. But what happens with those who gaze upon Atoms
with the aid of the Microscope (a wonderful and miraculous inven-
tion of our time and of our Netherlands)—for the tiniest specks that
have almost evaded the naked eye come into view with the aid of
this instrument as true bodies, so that what could never otherwise
be seen, their diverse parts, colours, angles, hollows, and swellings,
can now easily be seen; but, what is also most remarkable, the
Microscope being withdrawn after having been applied for a little
while, they are able to discern and distinguish with their eyes alone
things that they would never have seen at all if they had not first
seen them with the aid of the instrument, their naked eyes now able
to penetrate the mysteries of the dust that formerly would not even
have shown up without a magnifying-glass—happens also with me.
The Word of God is my Dutch Tube, and what I have seen with
its aid, and would not have seen without it, I also see in some
gracious reader 9
measure without its aid; in fact, I still see such things well enough
without the Tube later, and as perfectly as if I were still equipped
with it. It is not that I rate my own eyes above the sharp and acute
eyes of our pagans: to be sure, their eyes saw less, but that was
because they lacked my little glass. But I exhort those Christians
(few as they are) who have perceived these things through their
Religion to recall them to mind here with me. It helps; as those
who make use of Microscopes teach us.
Lastly, Reader, be a constant reader here. And what you read in
my Book, re-read in your mind. Make no mistake: it is written there
also.
TREATISE I
ON VIRTUE
AND ITS PRIME ATTRIBUTES, WHICH ARE
COMMONLY CALLED CARDINAL VIRTUES
CHAPTER I
On Virtue in general
§ 1. Love
[1] Love has a variety of meanings;1 and first of all, it signifies a cer-
tain Affect, or passion, which caresses the human mind, and fills it
with tenderness. In fact, this passion, which is widely called Love, is
the entire, exclusive, and sole2 delight of the human mind, insofar
as it is human and joined to a body. For even though the human
mind, insofar as it is a mind, is capable of more elevated pleasures
(such as the mere approbation of its own actions, when they accord
with Divine Law), nevertheless, insofar as it is joined to a body, and
born to act on it, and in turn to receive something from it, and as
it were be acted upon by it, it knows no other tenderness than pas-
sion. Hence, Joys, Delights, Merriment, Laughter, Rejoicing, Jubilation, and
the like, are only diverse names for Love. What is tender in Desire,
Hope, Trust, and the like, and positively affects and calms the mind,
is indeed Love;3 but what troubles and afflicts the mind, is not Love
but some other affection that is involved with them at the same time
as Love. Now the pleasure of a mind separated and withdrawing
itself from the body (which, as I have said, consists in the bare appro-
bation of its own actions, inasmuch as they assent to Divine Law)
seems for the most part so meagre,4 so tenuous and rarefied, that
men hardly or not at all consider it to be worthy of the name of
Pleasure. And when this spiritual delight is sterile, and does not pro-
duce5 the corporeal and sensible pleasure (passionate Love) which in
12 ETHICS ‒ treatise i
other cases it usually does produce, they complain that they have to
live a life of sorrow and austerity, that they are wasting away, and
that for all that they obey God and Reason, they are destitute of
all reward and consolation.
[2] And so it is clear enough why Love is a passion. But such Love
cannot be accepted as forming part of the definition of Virtue.6
Although this kind of Love often accompanies Virtue (for virtuous
men are often rich in the unfailing delights and pleasures of the
mind), it is still not Virtue itself, but only an incidental reward of
Virtue, and as often absent from Virtue as accompanying it. Therefore,
the Love that constitutes Virtue is of another kind, namely, a firm
intention7 of doing what Right Reason has decided ought to be done.
And because this Love looks to some outcome, it can be called
Effective Love; just as the first kind of Love, which I dealt with a lit-
tle earlier, can be called Affective Love. And Effective Love includes
not only a firm intention of doing what Reason determines ought
to be done; but in general every firm intention to act.8 Even a firm
intention of pursuing and avenging your injuries is also Love; not,
to be sure, towards him on whom you have determined to avenge
yourself and punish, but towards yourself, whom you wish by means
of that revenge to pacify, placate, restore, and delight. Hence, Affective
Love is any tenderness whatever in the human mind; but Effective
Love is a firm intention to act.
[3] Affective love is much the more common, and indeed it is well-
known that the vulgar understand nothing else by the word Love;
but more properly and more naturally it signifies Effective Love.9 In
fact, Affective Love seems to go by the name of Love for no other
reason than that it often gives rise to Effective Love. But we usu-
ally understand when we are not greatly loved by one whom we
know to be positively affected towards us, but whose affection does
not give rise to an effect,10 and who does not assist us, or stand out
or exert himself on our behalf when the occasion presents itself; and
we certainly do not set great store by such Love. Plainly, then, Love
should more properly and more naturally signify Effective Love than
Affective Love.
[4] Since people commonly understand by the word Love little else
but affective Love, that is, the passion that I discussed in [1],11 they
also attribute the whole nature of Virtue to that passion, and believe
chapter i ‒ on virtue in general 13
first wish steadfastly to obey God and Reason, from which there
naturally springs forth17 in them an affection for God and Reason,
and a tenderness of mind which is generally called Love, and in this
particular connection, Devotion.
[6] Furthermore, there are also two kinds of Effective Love, namely,
Benevolent Love and Concupiscent Love. Benevolent Love is a firm inten-
tion of benefiting another. But Virtue does not consist of this kind
of Love either; for Virtue is the Love of Reason, and we cannot do
either good or ill to Reason. When we do well, we neither sow nor
reap anything of it, and nothing is lost to it when we do ill. This
is because Reason is an image of the divine that we have within
ourselves, and consequently, inasmuch as it is a divine image (and
to that extent loveable), it can no more receive good or ill from us
than God Himself.18 Thus, if you conduct yourself moderately, if you
conduct yourself resolutely, you indeed temper yourself to Reason,
but this is for your own good, and it benefits you, not Reason; but
if you act petulantly or faint-heartedly, this is a reproach to you as
one who will not listen to Reason. Your own stains cannot besmirch
Reason itself.19 We commend a mirror that reflects true images of
things, and discommend one that reflects false and distorted images;
but no-one believes the things reflected in the mirror to be either
commendable or discommendable on that account.20
[7] Concupiscent Love is nothing other than the firm intention of
pursuing something; of such sort is the love of men21 for riches, hon-
ours, pleasures, and so on, which men busy themselves pursuing;
whence it is nothing other than Self-Love or Philautia. This kind of
Love is far removed from the nature of Virtue; for it is the tinder
of Sin, or rather Sin its very own self; as will emerge more clearly
later on,22 when we come to deal with Sin. In fact, he who elevates
his gaze to Reason ought to turn away from his own interest as
much as possible.23 On the highway of Virtue such reasonings are
obstacles set in his path; he has to turn his back on them. Anyone
who sets out on that admirable path does so with open arms. And
there is no more certain touchstone with which we can distinguish
those splendidly dishonest men who simulate Virtue with such cun-
ning, than the use of that sorry little word that with them is fre-
quently on their lips and ever in their minds: Mine. Anyone who is
preoccupied with himself, and busy about his own affairs is revealed
chapter i ‒ on virtue in general 15
§ 2. Reason
[1] What Reason is must not be stated, in fact cannot be stated (see
my Logic *). Nevertheless, I maintain that it is sufficiently well known
to all of us,1 as we have the distinction of being rational.2 It does
not matter that Reason is so often ignored, obscure, and a source
of perplexity: it is enough that we are familiar with Reason in some
circumstances at least,3 for it not to be entirely unknown. A son can
still be said to know his father even though he might not be able
to recognise him from a distance, in the dark, in a dense crowd of
people milling about, in fancy dress, or dressed as a woman.4 But
this is not the place to discuss these matters at any greater length,
and I must refer you to my Logic, as I said earlier. I now return to
the matter in hand.
[2] Virtue is the Love of Reason, and not strictly speaking, or at
least not so precisely speaking, the Love of God as He is in Himself.5
§ 3. Disposition*
* The term disposition is here chosen as the translation for habitus, which is the
technical Latin term for the Greek concept of hexis. According to Aristotle, virtue
is not to be found in a certain act, or in a property of an act, but in a disposi-
tion, or hexis, to act in the right way.
†
Cf. Aristotle, Ethica Nicomachea II 1, and the definition of aretê at 1106 b 38.
18 ETHICS ‒ treatise i
CHAPTER II
On the Cardinal virtues
The Cardinal Virtues are the attributes of Virtue that proceed from
it most closely and immediately,1 without reference to any particu-
lar external circumstances.2 They comprise these four: Diligence,
Obedience, Justice, and Humility.
section i
§ 1. Diligence
* Geulincx must have in mind the proposals for improving the university cur-
riculum that he gave on the occasion of his academic Oratio in Leuven on 14
December 1652. The lecture was published in his Questiones quodlibeticae in utramque
partem disputatae (Antwerp, 1653) and later re-edited for publication in his Saturnalia
(Leiden, 1665; 16692). Cf. Opera I, 41–42.
chapter ii ‒ on the cardinal virtues 21
as the poet says? But neither can the Diligence that is concerned
with Theoretical matters be the offspring of some other kind of
Effective Love of Reason, such as Benevolent or Concupiscent Love,
because (Chapter I § 1 [6]–[7]) these Loves are not consonant with
Reason. Thus, taking everything into account, I maintain that the
Diligence which engenders Speculative Wisdom naturally arises out of
Virtue; that is, from Obedient Love of Reason. Virtuous men (who
alone are wise22) attend to Reason in Physics in order to become
better acquainted with it (which can also be gathered from what I
said just now in [3]), and better and readier to follow its dictates in
Ethics. But to be led into speculation by some other kind of Love
(being seduced by the sheer pleasure of speculation) is a sort of van-
ity and intemperance, which will never bring forth solid and gen-
uine Wisdom,23 but only spurious and inane Wisdom, spouting
opinions, suspicions, fevers, dreams, errors, and futile subtleties. All
this will become clearer when we come to consider the Reward of
Virtue. Therefore, although we cannot in Theoretical matters love
Reason with a Love such as will induce us to obey it in those mat-
ters, we can still love it in those matters with a Love such as will
induce us to obey it in other matters, namely in Practical and Moral
matters. For the Reason that discloses to us the truths of Physics is
the same Reason that enjoins on us Ethics.24
§ 2. Obedience
orders you to return; and whenever you have a mind to get ready
for a journey, orders you to be about your business; you would prob-
ably laugh at the folly of a man with nothing better to do; and
although you do what he ordered you to do, you would not con-
sider that you were obeying him, that is, you would not leave, return,
or undertake anything because your neighbour commands it, but
only because you have determined to do it. Likewise, a virtuous man
who acts as a slave will do as he is ordered not because his master
has ordered it, but because he himself has determined to do it.18
Accordingly, if his master orders him to kill his fellow-slave,19 to rob,
to lie in wait, and to be generally ready for violence and infamy,
he will not do it, because he does not want to do it. And he does
not want to do it, because Reason forbids it. He will not do it, I
maintain, even though, if he refuses, his master may threaten him
with scourges, whips, the pillory, and death. From all of which it
becomes clear that on all the other occasions also he did not do
anything because his master wanted it, but because he himself wanted
it.20 This is how in his servitude he has remained wholly free, and
a man who has never done anything against his principles:
A wise and virtuous man will have the courage to say: Pentheus, Ruler
of Thebes, why do you impose these unjust burdens and hardships on
me? I am required to give up my wealth, my herds, lands, household
goods, and money. To be sure, you have the power to seize them.
You may hold me under cruel restraint in manacles and fetters. But
God Himself, as soon as I desire it, will release me. In other words,
he declares this: I have to die, death is everything’s final limit.*
§ 3. Justice
defect alike, while Obedience produces the action. But this is also
true: no action emanates from Obedience that Justice will not pre-
viously have trimmed and refined. An action that is more or less
than Reason dictates is not an obedient action: a consideration which
seems to prove that Justice precedes Obedience.2 But this is the
nature of these sisters: they take care to conceal from us the order
of their birth, of which they themselves are fully aware.3 The one
whom you saluted as the elder by birth when you first beheld her,
you might take to be the younger when you behold her afresh. And
even Diligence itself, which seemed clearly to precede Obedience in
age, may appear to be, if you examine it with due care, nothing
but a kind of Obedience. After all, when we listen to Reason (which
is what Diligence involves), we also heed Reason and obey it (which
is Obedience). Reason bids us listen; and if we listen and obey, our
Diligence is nothing but Obedience.4 Thus do those sweet Goddesses
delight in making sport of us.5 But we, as mere mortals, will for our
part do well to abstain from gazing too curiously and too fixedly on
their divinity. We should be content to have saluted them in the
order dictated to us by our natural modesty and reverence as we
beheld them in passing. Then we shall have saluted them aright. If
we should trust our eyes when they are thus turned down (and there
has to be trust when nothing else is available), we shall judge Diligence
to be the eldest, with Obedience coming next, and Justice born out
of Virtue after these.
[2] The two parts of Justice are Purity and Perfection. Purity cuts
off what is excessive, and is, as it were, the right arm of Justice,
with which it bears its sword. Perfection supplies what is lacking,
and is, as it were, the left hand of Justice, from which its scales are
suspended. That which is in excess is called a Vice of Excess; a Vice
that is deficient is called a Vice of Defect.* Therefore, the name of
some Virtue being given, if you qualify it with an adjective of excess,
you signify by this means a Vice of Excess (as excessively liberal, that
is, prodigal, is a Vice in Excess of liberality). But if you qualify it
with an adjective of deficiency, you will be speaking of a Vice of Defect
* Despite his general renunciation of Aristotelian ethics (as e.g. in § 2 [3], above),
Geulincx’ analysis of Justice in terms of excesses and defects is clearly reminiscent
of Aristotle’s doctrine of the mean. More examples of excesses and defects may be
found in Treatise II, below, where Geulincx discusses ‘the offices of virtue’.
chapter ii ‒ on the cardinal virtues 27
what Reason says, but does something else, and is an enemy of God
and Reason, a sinner. He has almost obeyed, I admit; but almost
to obey is not to obey. He has scarcely done anything wrong, I also
admit; but he has still done something wrong. What does it matter
that what he has done is not all that far from Reason?13 To depart
from Reason in such a way is infamy. Someone stands on a steep
incline; he stumbles, and loses his footing. What difference does it
make if he loses his footing only slightly? The mere loss of his foot-
ing means a terrible fall, and death. A shipwreck within sight of
land, nay within the very harbour-mouth, is still just as much a ship-
wreck as on the high seas, where
* The phrase [ubi ] nihil est nisi pontus et aether is a Latinised version of the Homeric
expression in Odyssey XII, 404 and XIV, 302 for being at sea without any land in
sight. Cf. Alexander Pope’s ‘And all above is sky, and ocean all around!’ (XII, 474)
and ‘all was wild expanse of sea and air’ (XIV, 333) in The Odyssey of Homer, ed.
Maynard Mack, London and New Haven: Methuen and Yale University Press,
1967, vol. 1, 454 and vol. 2, 51. A similar expression, caelum undique et undique pon-
tus, may be found in Virgil, Aeneid III, 193 as well as in Ernest Hemingway, The
Old Man and the Sea, London: Arrow Books, 2004, 87: ‘nothing but the sea and the
sky.’ In Geulincx’ wording, the phrase occurs in Michael Pexenfelder, Apparatus eru-
ditionis tam rerum quam verborum per omnes artes et scientias, Nürnberg: Michael and Joh.
Friedrich Endter, 1670, 356: in vasto pelago, ubi nihil nisi pontus et aether. It is no doubt
derived from a Latin edition of Homer, although other editions kept closer to Virgil’s
text. Cf. e.g. Lorenzo Valla and Raphael Volaterrano’s translation of the Odyssey,
Antwerp: Io. Grapheus, 1528, 91: sed coelum undique et undique pontus and 102: sed
maria undique et undique coelum.
chapter ii ‒ on the cardinal virtues 29
section ii
§ 1. Humility
There may also (to take another example) be special reasons for not
concealing a crime that you have committed, so that you may have
to bring on yourself hostility, hatred, and contempt. But things that
are to be done on occasion and only in their place should, when
we are speaking generally and in the round, not be done. Humility
therefore calls for negative disregard of oneself, meaning that one
should not labour concerning oneself, not have a care of oneself,
and place no consideration of oneself ahead of a Love of Reason.3
Not that a virtuous man ought not to be able to provide for his
bodily needs or mental pleasures, but that he should do so not for
his own sake, and in consideration of himself, but for the sake of
Reason alone, which sometimes bids him refresh his body and re-
create his mind.4 And how, in doing things that are conducive to
comfort and pleasure, we nevertheless can and must set aside all
consideration of comfort and pleasure as ends in themselves, and as
it were expel them from the mind (for this may sound strange and
rather uncommon), I shall explain in due course.
[2] Humility also springs directly from Virtue5 and is very close to
it.6 The Love of God and Reason (which is the definition of Virtue)
has this effect on one who loves them, that he forsakes himself, with-
draws from himself, and takes no account of himself, in which alone
true and genuine Humility consists.7 Humility is therefore a daugh-
ter of Virtue, but so far as one can judge from outward appear-
ances, came forth into the light after her sisters, and is the youngest
by birth.8 Those elders, to whom we have already paid homage, are
wholly and exclusively preoccupied with Reason,9 by whose love they
were conceived. Thus, Diligence listens to Reason, Obedience obeys
it, Justice clears away the obstacles to obedience, and Humility finally,
after everything has been cleared away, gives up her own self as
well, so that nothing at all is left to hinder Obedience in its duty.
But here again I must qualify my remarks, which reflect the way
Humility appears from a distance together with her sisters. From
close up, however, she seems to be not the youngest, but the eldest,
and to precede even Diligence by birth.10 The office of listening, to
§ 2. Inspection of Oneself
* Gnôthi Seautòn, or Know Thyself was to be the first title under which Geulincx’
Ethics would be published in 1675: Gnôthi Seautòn, Sive Arnoldi Geulincs Ethica. Leiden:
A. Severini, 1675.
†
Plato, Charmides, 164 d–164 e.
32 ETHICS ‒ treatise i
were not fitting to say ‘Be well’, and greet each other in this way,
but that we should rather bid each other to live temperately.” (Or
to live humbly, as Christians say). I fear that he may not have said
this intentionally, but by chance. His finger points to the source of
Humility; he strikes the nail on the head; but he does not drive it in.
[2] Inspection of Oneself consists in a careful enquiry into the nature,
condition, and origin of oneself.1 In order rightly to undertake it, I
must begin by reflecting, and then in solitude communing with myself,
thus: I see so many, and such diverse things; I see the resplendent
radiance of the Sun, which furnishes me with the alternation of day
and night, Winter and Summer, heat and cold; I see the Moon tem-
pering the darkness of the night, and innumerable lesser lights dot-
ted about the vault of Heaven; I see clouds, for the most part white,
sometimes black, sometimes ( just before sunset or sunrise) adorned
with a variety of colours; whence I will be startled by a frightening
clap of thunder, before watching triple-forked thunderbolts flash and
shudder; after this, I see storm-clouds, hailstorms, and falling snow;
the vast and enormous sky at times washed by mists and vapours,
and at other times clear and pleasantly azure. I feel air circulating
about me, and breezes buffeting me, I hear the air alternately stream-
ing in and out of my mouth and nostrils, gently while I just breathe,
but roughly and forcefully when I sigh or gasp for breath. I observe
the sea, rolling or restless, the tide coming in and going out at the
appointed hours, I see lakes, springs, and streams. I see the Earth,
fecund and fertile with an innumerable stock of trees, herbs, stones,
and metals; and on it, just as in the waters and the air, infinitely
many kinds of flying, swimming, walking, and creeping things. When
I see all these things, I say that I am seeing the World,2 or some
part of the World.3 But even as I see them, I am well aware that
I did not make any of them, that I cannot make any of them,4 and
that I have simply found them here all about me.
[3] Finally, there is also a certain body which is more joined to me,
and in such a way that through its intervention I perceive all the
other bodies which we have mentioned, and without whose inter-
vention I would be incapable of perceiving them (I cannot see with-
out eyes, or hear without ears). Because this body is joined to me
in such a way, I am accustomed to call it my body.5 I am also well
aware that I did not make this body,6 in fact that I cannot make
chapter ii ‒ on the cardinal virtues 33
anything at all like it. Even though I may perhaps once have engen-
dered some such body, or could even now engender one, I realise
that to engender such a body is not to make such a body, any more
than sowing a field is to make the corn and the flowers that it yields.7
[4] Now it is indeed the case that my body moves in accordance
with my will. When I want to speak, my tongue flaps about in my
mouth; when I want to swim, my arms splash about; when I want
to walk, my feet are flung forward. But I do not make that motion.8
I do not know how such a thing is brought about, and it would be
impudent of me to say that I do what I do not know how to do.9
I do not know how, and through which nerves and other channels,
motion is directed from my brain into my limbs;10 nor do I know
how motion reaches the brain,11 or even whether it reaches the brain
at all. With the aid of Physics and Anatomy I may be able to trace
this motion for some distance, but I still feel sure that in moving
my organs I am not directed by that knowledge; and that on occasion
I have moved them just as promptly, or perhaps even more promptly,
when nothing could have been further from my mind.12 When I am
completely exhausted, or better still, when without my knowing it,
paralysis seems to overcome my limbs, I am pushed towards move-
ment in a similar way to when I was still fresh and sound.13 It is
clear from this that, even when certain parts of my body do move
in accordance with my will, I do not make this motion.14
[5] If I do not make motion in my body, how much less do I make
motion outside my body! How much less do I do the other things
that from time to time, taking the popular view, I so confidently say
that I do, such as writing, drawing, baking bread, making bricks, a
table, shoes, or clothing!15 These things can be done only through
motion; and since I cannot make motion, I cannot persuade myself
that I do all the things that I have just mentioned, or any others.
[6] Finally, it is clear, I freely admit, that I do nothing outside myself;
that whatever I do stays within me; and that nothing I do passes
into my body, or any other body, or anything else. Even if there is
someone else who, without consulting me, and arbitrarily, wills my
action to affect my body, or something else, and by willing, makes
it affect these things, I have no part in this, and the action is not
mine but his. For sometimes I act in such a way for my action to
reach things outside me and yet I labour in vain, even when I do
34 ETHICS ‒ treatise i
what else can they bring?), I must needs have still other eyes in
order to see the image reflected by my eyes or imprinted on my
brain, about which eyes the same question, or rather complaint,
arises all over again. Do the eyes then bring nothing to seeing?
Obviously they bring something; it is clear to me from my experi-
ence and consciousness that the eyes are involved in seeing. But in
what way? In one way only. Their nature, power, and capacity bring
nothing to seeing comparable to (for example) the nature, power,
and capacity of length to be divided into parts. What the eyes offer,
and bring to seeing is something that they get not from their own
nature, nor from me, but from somewhere else.
[10] Having thus pondered these things, I understand clearly how I
have come to acknowledge that my actions do not affect things in
the world, and that neither do the actions of the world affect me.
Here once again I get some inkling of the power and activity of
another, a power and activity that cannot be stated in words. This
much I understand clearly, that it is not owing to the power either
of objects or my eyes that I see; this much I also understand clearly,
that in consequence there exists something else (which I shall call a
Divinity, for want of a better name) whose power grants these things
to me; though how it grants them I do not understand, although I
do understand that I shall never understand it. But it would be inap-
propriate, just because I do not know how they come about,29 if I
were to regard the very obvious and clear results of my enquiries
as tainted.30 It would be as if someone were to deny that a magnet
attracts iron just because he does not understand why it does so.
Likewise, I would have to deny that I see, because (as I have now
realised) I do not know how I see.
[11] Thus, I have now diagnosed my condition.31 I merely experi-
ence the World. I am a spectator of the scene, not an actor. And
yet, the World that I observe cannot itself impress on me the like-
ness under which I observe it. The World impels its likeness towards
my body and leaves it there:32 it is the Divinity that then conveys
it from my body into me, and into my mind.
[12] I have diagnosed my condition; it only remains to enquire how
I came to it. But I cannot get beyond I do not know, there is nothing
I can add to this I do not know. I do not know how I came to this
condition (the results of my enquiries have wrung this admission
36 ETHICS ‒ treatise i
§ 3. Disregard of Oneself 1
not for what suits me, but for what God commands, and I must
labour not over my own happiness, blessedness, or repose, but over
my obligations alone.
§ 4. First Obligation
[1] Let me therefore proceed in accordance with the plan which the
Inspection of myself has convinced me is right and well-founded. I
see at first1 that I have this obligation: When God summons me from the
living, and orders me to return to Him, I must not persist in refusal, but hold
myself ready to fly to Him eagerly and without delay. I must not
plead hindrances (for to act tardily is to act unwillingly), and must
not be deterred from returning by the awareness of things badly
done while I was still here.2 A servant who is delayed by the aware-
ness of things left undone, and who does not present himself as soon
as his master calls, thereby adds to his offence. Is not such reluc-
tance diametrically opposed to that abandonment, desertion, rejec-
tion, and disavowal of myself to which I am bound under the law
of Humility? Did the light of nature not make it clear and beyond
question to me? How can I desert myself, and transfer myself wholly
to God, if I am still preoccupied with my own affairs, and refuse to
obey for fear of being chastised3—while deserving to be chastised?
[2] And in any case, my resistance is useless,4 as nothing can delay
the execution of God’s commands. When God summons me, I shall
return, whether I want to or not, though I am so foolish and conceited
that it pleases me to trifle in such serious matters, and by resisting
to labour in vain. Now that I have come to my senses, be it there-
fore resolved as follows: When God summons me hence, nothing will stay
me. I shall come at once, come with all my heart, come willingly and readily;
I shall fly to Him.5 But contrary to the multitude of naturally savage and violent
men, my wings will not be formed by the weariness of life, or the infirmities of
man’s lot. I shall come simply because God calls me. All He has to do is call;
and His call will urge me on with all possible despatch. Will awful terrors
assail me? 6 Torments rack me? Ordeals make trial of me? Yes, I shall suffer;
but insofar as it is lawful for a man, I resolve that I shall do nothing, or for
that matter refuse to do anything, on account of such sufferings. I shall render
myself up wholly to God, to whom I owe my entire being. He must decide con-
cerning me as it seems fit. And whatever He does, it will be for the best.
chapter ii ‒ on the cardinal virtues 39
§ 5. Second Obligation
[1] My Second Obligation is: Not to depart when not summoned, not to
quit my post and station of life without orders from the Supreme Commander.
It is clear that this Obligation follows in the same way as the first
from my profession of Self-Abandonment,1 according to which I am
required to relinquish even my right to depart from this World. I
must submit that decision wholly to God, as His divine prerogative.
It is wrong for me to claim from Him something of that preroga-
tive for myself. If I wish to arrogate something of it to myself, I am
wicked and impious, one who assumes what is not his, but God’s.
It is vain for me to attempt what I cannot undertake, like a ridicu-
lous dwarf aspiring to wrest the club out of the hand of Hercules.2
And just as we must come when God summons us, so, when he
does not summon us, we must tarry. No-one can get in his way,
no-one can interpose himself between God and His will: He has
reserved the whole matter to Himself.
[2] And even though under the influence of silly and stupid argu-
ments3 I might be in the habit of believing that I can die when I
want, it is nevertheless not the case, as my Inspection of Myself has
unequivocally taught me. First of all, I am not going to depart from
my body merely by wanting to depart from it:4 I am most intimately
aware that I cannot. When I have decided that I want to depart
from my body, I will have to raise my own hands against my body,
to defile, injure and oppress it.5 But I cannot yield my body to whips
and scourges without motion; and I cannot cause motion in my body
(honest Inspection of Myself makes that transparently obvious to me).
I can only will it, and when I will it, God usually imparts the motion
that I will; not because I will it, but because He wills that the motion
that I will should be imparted. For example, if a baby wants the
cradle* in which he has been laid to be rocked, it is usually rocked;
though not because he wants it, but because his mother or nurse-
maid, who is sitting by the cradle and who can actually rock it,6
also wants to do what he wants. Therefore, if I should contemplate
something more serious with regard to myself, such as deciding to
* On Beckett’s use of this image in Murphy, Film and Rockaby, see Uhlmann’s
introduction below. Also see Anthony Uhlmann, Samuel Beckett and the Philosophical
Image, Cambridge: CUP, 2006.
40 ETHICS ‒ treatise i
stab myself in the heart with a dagger or hang myself, I shall not
be able to create the motion required to bring this about. Perhaps
God will create it, and thereby despatch me; though not because I
have decided to depart, but because He has decided what I have
decided.7 But it is impious of me on my own judgement and counsel
to depart without God’s authorisation, impious of me to depart with-
out being summoned, insofar as it is my business,8 which is to say
that I wished to depart before knowing that I had been summoned.
[3] Now that I rightly comprehend this Obligation of mine, I embrace
it, and receive it unto myself; and am resolved thus: I shall remain
here on God’s orders; without His orders I shall not depart. Let all the hatred,
spite, and calumnies of the world befall me,9 let them receive all my good deeds
with scorn, let them vilify me, and cover me with curses; let nothing be left to
me but exile, destitution, bereavement, ostracism, and imprisonment; let the sav-
agery and fury of tyrants overwhelm me, and a thousand deaths threaten me;10
let my body be consumed by starvation, scab, and consumption;11 let fear, pain,
tedium, and consciousness of evildoing oppress my spirit; let lethargy, bewilder-
ment, listlessness, and stupidity possess my mind.12 Yet still I am certain that
I should not want to anticipate death, or slay myself, but stay calm;13for God
bids me rise above these calamities. If He ceases to bid me rise above them, He
will take me away. The yoke of His will must be borne for His sake, not for
mine, who would rather play than work.14 But even though may I bask in the
approbation and flatteries of men,15 though everyone is wholeheartedly in favour
of me, though everyone wishes me wealth and good cheer, congratulates me, gives
me presents, and praises me to the skies; though I may for a time abound with
riches, my anteroom daily thronged with a multitude of clients, consorting every
day with friends, relatives, and acquaintances, and rejoicing in an excellent and
chaste wife, and dear children;16 though my body may be robust, shapely, vig-
orous, and perfect in every part;17my demeanour lofty, secure, and genial, rein-
forced by the consciousness of acting rightly;18 my mind acute, shrewd, always
nourished and well-stocked with ideas to be investigated and considered 19—all
these things, I say, may console me,20 soothe me, embrace me, but none of them
will detain me, none of them will furnish me with a pretext for remaining here.
I shall remain in their midst, but not for their sake; not on their account, but
on account of the law that God has laid down for me: that is why I shall
remain here. It alone will constrain and bind me, it alone will exact from me
a willingness to remain here.
[4] This Second Obligation is of the greatest moment in Ethics;21
and those philosophers who did not fully understand it (such as cer-
chapter ii ‒ on the cardinal virtues 41
tain of the Stoics, especially Seneca) lost their way, and remained
wholly ignorant of the true path of Virtue. In fact, in place of Virtue
they substituted a monstrous lust, mere self-love, and ushered into
our presence Sin its very own self. If someone wants to be free and
untrammelled to depart hence, why continue to feed himself, why
learn a new skill or embrace a new mode of life in order to earn
a living? Is it not because it pleases him? It now pleases him to
remain among the living, and accordingly he obtains the things that
promote sustenance, comfort, and pleasure. When it no longer pleases
him to remain among the living, he will depart. Thus he will do
everything, omit to do everything, because it pleases him. Now what
is this other than unbridled lust, perpetual self-absorption, and utter
contempt for Reason?
[5] And certainly, Seneca, above all, seems to have looked to and
pursued this obsession, sounding the trumpet in favour of such a
savage and limitless form of licence, and going before us with the
monstrous and brazen clamour of his rhetoric (in which there is
more than enough spirit,22 but too little intelligence). In Epistle 70,
when he poses himself the objection: You will encounter some professing
Wisdom who would deny that violence may be offered against oneself, and judge
it wrong to take one’s own life, he has no other reply than to assert that
those who would say this close off the way to freedom.*23 As he does not
know what freedom really is, he should rather have said “licence
and indomitable lust”. Freedom is the Fruit of Obedience, not rebel-
lion. (See, if you will, Reader, what Section I, § 2 [4] of this Chapter
has to say about real and true freedom). In this connection it is
helpful to take into account also what he says in his treatise On
Providence, Chapter 6, where amongst other things he would repre-
sent God as saying that virtuous men are His equals, even in some
respects His superiors,24 and at length also has Him pronounce thus:25
I have above all taken care not to keep you here against your will; the way is
open; if you do not wish to stand and fight, you may run away. Therefore, of
all the things that I have deemed necessary for you, I have made dying the eas-
iest. I have set your soul on a downward slope; it is on the move.26 Only
observe, and you will see how short and easy is the way that leads to freedom.
I have not imposed on you in going forth such long delays as in entering; if a
man were as tardy about dying as being born, fortune would have maintained
her mighty dominion over you. Every season, every place, may teach you how
easy it is to renounce nature and dash away her bounty.27 . . . The spirit does
not lurk in the depths, nor does it need to be excised with steel; the heart does
not need to be searched out by deep wounds;28 death is close at hand. Nor have
I appointed a definite place for these mortal strokes: wherever you wish, the way
is open. The thing itself that is called dying, the moment when life departs from
the body, is so brief that its rapidity cannot be felt. Whether a noose strangles
the throat,29 whether water stops the breath, whether the hardness of the ground
crushes the skull of one who falls to earth, whether the devouring flame cuts off
the ingoing and outgoing flow of air, whatever it is, it will soon be over. Do
you not blush for shame to dread for so long something that is so swiftly over? 30*
[6] So he says; let us examine it. Not to keep you here against your will.
Virtuous men are certainly kept here; but not kept here against their
will. They are bound to remain here by the Law of God;31 and they
love it with all their heart, and wish to obey it with their whole
mind and spirit. Nothing can befall them that is so dire, nothing
can arouse in them such horror and loathing that it would induce
them to take their own lives. What would this be but to violate that
very Law? In short, I say, though they are kept here, they are per-
fectly free.32 If you do not wish to stand and fight, you may run away. It
is a singular commander indeed33 who addresses his troops like this;
in fact, an insane or crazy commander. Such a God you fashion for
yourself, Seneca! What kind of commander is this but a crazy one?
Men, I have set you in your battle formations; I have led you to the front line;
but as soon as you have seen it, you may flee it. How much more effective
to say: Men, you must fight! Stand firm, and do not leave the field unless I
give you the signal to retreat.34 Next, Seneca has God say: Of all the things
that I have deemed necessary for you, I have made dying the easiest. This is
to persuade all those who do not examine the matter carefully that
they can die when they please; but how deluded they are, we saw
a little earlier. Let us, however, suppose that what vastly exceeds our
powers is nevertheless easy. To be sure, God does not usually deny
to our will such motions as are required to do away with someone,
and for this reason we can say: it is easy to do away with oneself. Easy,
yes; but should we do it?35 Many things are obviously both easy and
shameful. For instance, to run away when the enemy is upon him
is as easy for a soldier as it is also infamous;36 you would not dare
dispute this at Rome, Seneca! I have not imposed on you in going forth
such long delays as in entering. Not true: it takes us a moment to enter,
and a moment to go forth. And how could it be otherwise with us?
We are without parts, we cannot be partly present and partly absent,
but must of necessity be either wholly present or wholly absent. Of
course, our body has parts, from which it can gradually grow and
be adapted to our uses, but we ourselves have no parts.37 For exam-
ple, suppose someone reads these words, hears himself reading them,
and in reading them weighs carefully the arguments that they con-
tain, while at the same time feeling pain in his legs, or being oth-
erwise affected. Then he perceives quite clearly, and is intimately
aware of the fact that there is not one who sees, one who hears,
one who suffers, and one who reasons, but that he is one and the
same who sees with his eyes, hears with his ears, feels pain in his
legs, and philosophises with his mind. He never finds any parts in
himself,38 but only in his body. Thus much by the way, and for
form’s sake, as I shall discuss it at greater length elsewhere, in my
Metaphysics.* I have taken the opportunity here because considera-
tion of it obviously has some bearing on one’s knowledge of one-
self. Every season, every place, may teach you how easy it is to renounce nature,
etc. The same sort of stuff as before. These arguments all teach us
that it is easy; none of them teaches us that it is something we should
do. But come: when life has been made so hard for me, and I have
a sure means of divesting myself of it, should I not rather divest him
of it who has made it so hard for me? In such cases there is usu-
ally someone to blame. If poverty makes my life a burden, why
should I decide to give up that burdensome life rather than sustain
it out of the fortunes of others through theft and expropriation? If
we should strive only for such vain facility and freedom, Seneca, the
latter course would seem to me to be even freer and more facile. I
would be able to come quickly enough to that freedom of yours
when I was no longer able to enjoy my own. You dread for so long
something that is so swiftly over? What is so swiftly over is expiated by
eternal punishment, and the guilt of it is never purged.39 Almost t
he same sentiments as infest Epistles 58 and 70 are rampant else-
where. Seneca does not attempt to justify what he says, but ham-
mers it out, as if striking the reader with his fist, insisting over and
* Cf. Arnold Geulincx, Metaphysica Vera, Part 1, “Tertia Scientia”, in Opera II,
149/Metaphysics, 33–34.
44 ETHICS ‒ treatise i
over again that there are many exits, that they are easy, with little else by
way of argument. But what difference does it make? We are not
permitted to depart, God forbids it; as I have conclusively demon-
strated above. Everyone has the power to see this for himself: all he
has to do is put his mind to it, and be willing to reflect maturely
on those demonstrations.
§ 6. Third Obligation
* Plures occidit gula quam gladius: Latin saying, included as Gula plures quam gladius
perimit in Grynaeus, 468.
chapter ii ‒ on the cardinal virtues 45
who also have the faculty of inspiring others to virtue through their
teaching and moral example, are often relieved of the Obligation to
generate. Just as by moderate abstinence from food and drink ill
humours in the body are reduced and controlled, and then trans-
formed into good ones, or relegated by superior ones to where they
cannot create trouble and danger for the body; so also, as if by
abstinence, that vast body of humanity which is scattered over the
whole globe has its chief organs perfected in Wisdom and Virtue,
and as a result rendered in some measure more beautiful, healthy,
and vigorous. Others, who are unable to bring such a great amount
of credit into their account, and are deficient in morals and learn-
ing, must be regarded for the most part as mere breeders, whose
role is to engender and raise offspring; the greater part of the globe
being still uninhabited. But at the same time, I would not expect all
of the latter to procreate, or forbid procreation to the former. I can-
not expound everything here, nor is it necessary: I make this point,
that those who pursue a celibate life for the sake of convenience,
freedom, fame, or the admiration of the crowd contravene God’s
ordinance.
[3] However,6 I must take care not to cause offence in some way,
or perhaps fall into error. I mean that it is important that while
expatiating on the Third Obligation, I should bear in mind the ear-
lier Obligations,7 on which it is founded; and not ornament and
overload the upper storey so much that the lower ones are put under
strain, and the whole edifice falls to the ground in ruins as a result
of this storey collapsing onto them. Above all, I must remember
(because it is the foundation of the edifice)8 to abandon myself, and
deliver myself entirely into God’s hands. It follows from this that I must
indeed studiously and diligently follow the Third Obligation, but
without fuss,9 anxiety or care, at least if I have summoned or fed
them myself. If any of them should befall me10 (and they belong to
my human condition), then, being satisfied with just so much as con-
cerns me and careless of everything else, I shall be able to ignore
it, and set it at naught. I know that the fact that I have proved that
nothing is to be feared will not stop me from fearing: I can advise
myself about this, but usually cannot persuade myself of it. But why
should I be anxious and solicitous about it? For whom am I anxious
and solicitous? For God? Ridiculous! On my account? I just now
abandoned myself, and am lost to myself. For those around me?11
46 ETHICS ‒ treatise i
Hardly, for where there is no Me, there also there is no My. Are
things hard? It is no reason for fear. Is there no food to be had?
Or it is to be had, but too little for my starving body? That is of
little account. When God summons me, and the Obligation to which
I had formerly addressed myself is terminated, another Obligation
waits its turn, to which my conduct must be directed, namely that
I must come to the one who is summoning me, the one who is call-
ing me. Until now, I ate in order to live; and wanted to live, because
God had commanded me to want it. But now that I can no longer
obey Him by eating and drinking (because He no longer wants me
to obey Him in this way), I must turn to what He now wants me
to do. Now that He calls me forth from among the living, calls
me to Himself, I must come, and nothing more will remain for me
but to come. How He will receive me, I do not trouble myself, as
I no longer trouble about myself at all.12 Whether He will in due
course infuse me into another body?13 Whether He will keep me
with Himself, divested of a body?14 Whether He will receive me at
all, as I am evil?15 Whether He will forgive me, as He is good?16
Whether He will combine these two in some ineffable way17 (for
many of the things that I learned from the Inspection of Myself are
the traces He has left in me of an exalted and ineffable wisdom)18
that satisfies at the same time both His Piety and His Justice? If I
look diligently, I am able to divine a little of it, but for the time
being I put it off, I affect not to know. I am preoccupied with my
Obligations, I am about my duty, engaged in it, there is no time
for other matters. I must first search out what the Master demands
of me: if there is then any leisure left over from the performance of
my office, I may consider enquiring into such matters; in fact I shall
in due course enquire into them when I know that my Master wants
me to enquire into them. Until now, indeed, such things seemed to
be my Master’s business, and no affair of mine. Thus, by adhering
strictly (as I ought) to my Obligations (I have nothing beyond them),
I can plead for myself or my thoughts no excuse for fear or anxi-
ety. Whichever way I turn, all things bid me to put aside my cares,19
all things bid me to be of good cheer.
[4] Let us now look forward to the Fourth Obligation. But before
that, wait a little while, Philaretus. There is a little piece of grit here;
let me dig it out, so that it does not stick in you and cause you
pain; for I intend to take all precautions against anything that might
chapter ii ‒ on the cardinal virtues 47
retard your progress along this royal road to Virtue. You will recall
that I founded the whole of the Second Obligation on our not being
able to leave this life of our own accord, not being able to die when
we wish, and having no power to do any such thing. And having
no power, neither should we attempt anything: whatever needs to
be transacted on this scene should be remitted to God, who alone
has the power, who alone has dominion over life and death. Indeed,
we have no power20 even to eat and drink, and to do other things
that are subject to the Third Obligation. We have no control over
the motion that they require: we cannot impress motion on a body,
and we cannot block it, which the Second Obligation presupposes,
and in which the Inspection of Ourself has thoroughly instructed us.
But Philaretus, does this not mean that we are relieved of the Third
Obligation? We have no power to eat and drink? Let us not there-
fore undertake anything.21 Let us not stretch forth our hand towards
food; let us not return our hand to our mouth burdened with what
it has taken up; let us not bite into the morsels that lie between our
teeth; let the palate not convey to the gullet what the teeth have
chewed up. I admit that some in the days of our ancestors have
been carried away by this kind of madness, climbing into trees and
mounting onto rooftops, denying that it was lawful for them to spend
their days and nights troubling themselves about what they should
eat and what they should drink, and bearing witness that the whole
business should be left to God; that He might feed them, if it is His
will; if it is not His will, that He might take them from among the
living. Dull,22 miserable folk! But no more of that. A difficulty remains;
it must be got rid of, eh? But, as I now see, in a subtle manner. In
imposing upon us the Second Obligation, commanding us to remain
among the living, God commanded us at the same time to assent
to it,23 to acquiesce in it, to approve of it, and to do our part in
remaining here. To this end He ordered us to want (for what else
can our part be?) those motions that He has deemed necessary for
feeding and refreshing the body. Experience teaches us that it is so.24
We observe that such motions will not be forthcoming unless we
effectively want them; and that when they cease to be forthcoming
we depart our body, and do not stay, as we were bound to. Hence,
the reasoning that established the Second Obligation cannot over-
turn the Third, which the second necessarily entails. We know at
last that the Third Obligation, as an upper storey, is built on the
Second, as a lower storey, and not directly on the foundations of
48 ETHICS ‒ treatise i
§ 7. Fourth Obligation
§ 8. Fifth Obligation
§ 9. Sixth Obligation
[1] This pendant to the Fifth Obligation consists in the rule that
one should frequently relax the mind,1 lest it become jaded by incessant busi-
ness. One must regularly appease the Graces with walks, excursions,
indulging in play, amusements, and the stories and wit of friends,
by dining, drinking, dancing, and (I nearly said) playing the buffoon,
but (as Horace says)* in their place.2 The mind should often yield
to such diversions so that in due course, its strength recovered, and
refocused on its business, it may with increased scope and vigour
return at once to more serious matters. All the tauter is the bow-
string which we stretch anew after it has been slackened. Socrates did
not disdain to play with children; Cato soothed with wine a spirit vexed by
public affairs; and Scipio would move that heroic and martial body of his to
musical measures. All this is justly observed, and Seneca makes it a
feature of his book throughout.† It is a pity that this cornice rests
upon badly timbered buildings (On Tranquillity of Mind ) supported by
rotten foundations (Self-Love). Believe me when I say that they can-
not support it. We set such a cornice on a dwelling that does not
undermine it, whose roof is in good repair, and whose foundation
is God. You, Seneca, want to relax yourself 3 in order to shake off
men indulge themselves in pleasure for its own sake; virtuous men for
a reason; vicious men because it is their good pleasure, virtuous men
because God commands it. And you have rightly observed, Philaretus,
that the virtuous restrain their pleasure.10 I shall commend to you
an unexpected and marvellous saying: When a virtuous man indulges
in his own pleasure, it is then that he restrains his pleasure the most;
for he does not indulge in his pleasure because he likes it (he will
rather despise it), but because it is his duty. And just as someone
who visits a doctor in order to obtain medicine does not do so in
order to drink medicine but to get well; and likewise a merchant
voyaging (let us say) to the Indies, who when a storm blows up casts
his merchandise into the sea, does not do so for the sake of casting
it away, but in order to save himself; so a virtuous man, who indulges
in pleasure only out of obedience to God (and will not otherwise
indulge in it), is said not to indulge in his own pleasure, but to obey
God, and can very well and truly be said to restrain his pleasure.
[4] But I see that on the contrary Philaretus stands ready to remon-
strate with me:11 Such things are learned, subtle, and fitted rather to the
Schools than to life. Tell me, pray, who now will be virtuous? When someone
sets out to feather his own nest, to dance, to play the fool, you will plead as
an excuse that it is according to God’s precept (and you yourself said that it is
God’s). How can a follower of your teaching now distinguish the virtuous from
the vicious, when you mix them up together and confuse them? Fine words,
Philaretus, fine words! When the vicious simulate virtue, they are all
the more vicious for simulating it and being hypocritical. They cite
the divine laws as a pretext for depravity and dissipation, but how
does this help them? It is rather a pretext for infamy. But shall we
not then find it impossible to unmask these hypocrites?12 What con-
cern is that of ours? We have no difficulty telling when we ourselves
are masked; in that case it is our concern. Nevertheless, Philaretus,13
if we prescribe a pattern for living that is austere, rigid, and con-
strained, with no room for relaxation (which is against our Obligation),
do you think that you will now be able to distinguish between the
virtuous and the vicious? You would be wrong: in this the vicious
simulate and dissimulate more skilfully than ever. That gloomy bal-
let, with its sorrowful countenance, wrinkled brow, glaring eyes, and
narrow censure of all that is best, is one that masked hypocrites
dance to the life today as much as of yore. But inflamed by strong
wine, they reveal their true colours; for as it is rightly said: In vino
chapter ii ‒ on the cardinal virtues 53
veritas.* Only a virtuous man, who never hides his true colours, comes
out well here: he alone preserves dignity and propriety, only he will
not disgrace himself (as Seneca remarked of dancing Scipio) even if
his enemies are watching. But if need be, the virtuous and the vicious
can easily be told apart,14 even in the course of such diversions and
relaxations of the mind. For although the virtuous and the vicious
may do the same, they do so differently: the virtuous will not act
unless they are bidden, but the vicious will act even if they are for-
bidden; the virtuous have something else in mind, the vicious just
that very thing; the virtuous are like passers-by, heading somewhere
else, the vicious like residents who want to stay; the virtuous seize
pleasure, the vicious are seized by it. Do you think that all this can
be dissimulated, Philaretus? Can nothing of it escape from the eyes,
the mouth, the hands, the whole circuit of the body?
[5] And so these are the laws that direct my leaving this life and
my presence here, and prescribe for me the rules of living and dying.
My departure, or death, is governed by these first two Laws: (1) Not
to depart reluctantly when I am called; (2) Not to depart at all, unless I am
called. My presence here, or life is governed by the three (or four)
remaining Laws: (3) To refresh my body; (4) To pursue some settled course
of life; (5) While I am here, to suffer many things, and to do many things; (6)
Amongst other things, frequently to relax my mind.
foundation of Humility, that is, the second part of Humility, which we dis-
cussed earlier, according to which we are commanded to renounce ourselves, and
everything that is ours, and consign ourselves entirely and completely to God.
And whoever believes that God commands us in Scripture to work for the sake
of our eternal Blessedness, works for the sake of his own eternal Blessedness
only because God (as he sees it) commands this. To work for the sake of one’s
own eternal Blessedness in this way is not strictly to work for the sake of it,
but for the sake of God’s command, which it presupposes.5 A servant on his
master’s orders (or who at least sincerely believes that these are his master’s
orders) does something of service to one of his neighbours: I say that that ser-
vant, by so doing, serves not the neighbour, but his master, because the servant’s
whole motive is his master’s will, not the benefit or convenience of the neigh-
bour. Likewise also, the motive of the man of whom I just spoke is not his
Blessedness, but God’s will. Accordingly, he is said to act absolutely for God’s
sake, and not for the sake of himself or his Blessedness. But he must make sure
that he honestly means it, and does it with his heart, not his mouth, as in such
matters one can easily be taken in by one’s own desires.
[3] Nevertheless, no-one seems to have reason to think about his
Happiness,6 or deliberate about it in a purposeful manner, unless he
has gained the summit of things, or is at least confident of his abil-
ity to mount up to it. (Does anyone presume to dispute this? Well,
apart from Briareus and such fables.* I seem to myself to see as if
through a cloud a certain Tyrant, preening himself, and devising
and imagining for himself something of this kind. Absurdly! A little
head emptier than any pumpkin! But what need is there for indig-
nation! You are not worthy of it. Hellebore! Reach for the Hellebore
immediately: I mean, Know Thyself; and regain your sanity.)† But as
for all the rest, who are under the government and power of another,
let them first labour concerning their Obligations, let them take coun-
sel of the Oracle of Reason, and then when they have ascertained
what they should do, it will be right for them to do as it says. And
when they have done so,7 the greatest Happiness, as much as they
* Briareus was one of the Hecatonchires, giants with a hundred arms who helped
Zeus in his battle against the Titans. Cf. Homer, Ilias I, 402–406.
†
The plant Helleborus niger, Black Hellebore or Christmas Rose, was thought to
cure mental diseases. It was also known as Melampodium, after Melampus, the shep-
herd who is said to have found the drug. Geulincx refers to Melampus below,
page 60 where he uses ‘Hellebore’ allegorically to refer to the Inspection of Oneself.
60 ETHICS ‒ treatise i
can grasp, will come to them unsought. Now these things are quite
obvious to anyone for whom it is no grave matter to turn his mind
to them and fix his mind on them for a time. What, then, is the
cause of that common and widespread, but quite perverse, insanity,
or rather impotence, that makes men believe that they should first
look after their Happiness and keep it in view; and then determine
to enquire and deliberate what it is that will lead them and bring
them to what they are aiming at? This is how it happens that (at
least for a while), even if they may be so fortunate as to find both
where Happiness is, and what makes for its pursuit, they may yet
unfortunately be led astray, because this should not have been their
goal. But what, in the end, is the cause of this error?8 I take it to
be as follows.9 Man is entirely diffused outside himself, mixed with
a body, distracted, and dispersed; he collects himself with difficulty,
with difficulty he withdraws into himself, in order to view himself
there, view himself as subject to God, and so subject to God that
no-one can conceive of anything so degraded and obnoxious. So
long as man is inclined to stray outside himself, and diffuse himself
into the sensations that cause him to be extended somewhere out-
side himself, absolutely nothing strikes him as superior to, or even
equal to humanity. It is obvious to him that humanity excels every-
thing else that is the object of the senses, while other things, things
that evade the senses, are silent to yon vagabond, are mute, and of
little account. That is the drug;10 and this is the madness that pro-
ceeds from the drug. He now seems to himself to be able to imag-
ine himself at the summit of Happiness. To him the rest of his kind
seem to be in a stupor: all he has to do is excel his fellow men,
and he will be perfect. With that in view, he will compel some of
them to yield to him (threatening wars and strife); others he will
persuade to yield (offering blandishments and favours). Others still,
in case they should delay his ascent to perfection, he will under-
mine; others he will ensnare with deceptions, or secure their sup-
port with favours; he will entertain us with many such Comedies or
Tragedies. And these excesses will not be banished, he will not regain
his right mind, until he has eaten and digested that Hellebore which
divine Melampus has planted in our soil.* A medicine distasteful to
those who are not used to it, I admit,11 and which the ignorant say
loved myself more than God. By what right then, or rather by what
effrontery, do I demand a reward from Him? And if (as I know)
these joys desert me while I am enjoying them, there is still no rea-
son why I should be discontented, no cause for sadness or com-
plaint. For it is necessary that one of these two should hold: either
that I cultivated Virtue on account of the joys that are wont to
accompany it; or, those joys having been of secondary importance,
that I did what I did out of regard for the Divine Law.23 If the lat-
ter, why am I distressed that what I did not pursue did not pursue
me? If the former, then I am not frustrated; for I did nothing that
had any bearing on that to which I tendered my devotion. I wished
for joy, and so cultivated Virtue; but those wilful flowers of pleasure
that my vanity longed to pluck from it do not grow in this garden.
No-one is indignant if the public have not voted him the highest
honours and authority in the state in return for scratching his head
(for scratching one’s head is not something that brings honours and
authority). Likewise, Virtue does nothing more towards the attain-
ment of lasting pleasure, if it is cultivated in order to bring pleasure
to the cultivator.24 Even in ancient times the more cunning pleasure-
seekers approved of no pleasure that was obtained through study
and art.25 But all those who seek it in this way seek it in vain: and
the more artfully they seek it the more ridiculously they fail.26 But
how then can we obtain pleasure for ourselves if we are banned
from applying either study or negligence in obtaining it? Strike out
this whole Question from your account: it is completely the wrong
question. Join with me in rooting the mind so deeply in its Obligations
that no stem may shoot out from which pleasures, comforts, and
everything else that is wont to regard itself, and seems to constitute
its Happiness, may sprout and draw sustenance from the mind.
[1] Humility carries her fruit1 in a box;2 but O! let her not unlock
it! Those (too eager and incautious) who have wanted this box to
be opened for them prematurely have brought upon themselves every
kind of calamity, every kind of sickness of mind and often also of
body.3 What, then, is that so extraordinary poison in Pandora’s Box
which can diffuse itself into the air in whatever available way with
such a foul and pestilential miasma? The loftiest, most excellent
chapter ii ‒ on the cardinal virtues 63
how pious it is! And the one so rigorous, is she not still vigorous?
With sublime lips, and shapely body, is she not wholly bountiful and
filled with majesty? Look: what do you see but the Three Graces?
But what kind of commotion do I hear? Our Philaretus’ brother,20
who seems to be down there in the audience, is abusing me: with
annoyance he complains that I hold office without a popular man-
date;21 that I have introduced Goddesses onto the Stage; and not
disguised, as others have done, but as their very own selves; that I
have made his Tutelary Spirits into actresses. I have not done so; I
have not produced them; I have let them be themselves. They were
in their shrine, in their Theatre: this is why it seemed right to them,
as you have just seen, to put on a show for us. And these Goddesses
do not profanely act out fables, but occupy themselves with sacred
mysteries.22 I am a Mystagogue: I shall unfold these mysteries to
you; but only (it would be unlawful to do otherwise) once you have
been initiated.
TREATISE II
INTRODUCTION
separate and distinguish it. All of this will become clearer in what
follows shortly.
The Cardinal virtues are nothing other than virtue in general going
about any of its offices, while the Particular virtues mean virtue going
about this or that office in some determinate way. For example, lib-
erality is virtue meeting some expense, and frugality virtue abstaining
from expense. However, virtues are also regarded as particular in
advance of any office, and not so much going about it as ready to
go about it if the occasion should arise. Accordingly, people who do
not meet any actual expense, but would meet it if the occasion arose,
if the material or field of activity should be at hand, and if there
were something to give and someone to whom to give it, may also
be considered liberal; and similarly may be considered frugal when
they presently meet great expense, but will not meet it if circum-
stances change. And in this sense, in a virtuous man all the partic-
ular virtues coexist. He is both strong and mild, courteous and severe at
the same time, likewise liberal and frugal, and so on. But in another
sense, a virtuous man may have one particular virtue (that is, when
he executes some particular office of virtue), but lack others (that is,
when he is not for the time being discharging their offices). The lat-
ter sense is better and stricter, as we do not strictly speaking say
that someone lacks a virtue when he does not execute the office
which that virtue must inform, because the matter or instruments
are lacking; just as we do not consider a craftsman to be devoid of
his art when he lacks the instruments or materials with which he
creates it; and he who lacks brush, canvas, and pigments is still seen
as a painter. It is the same with a virtuous man when he has noth-
ing to give and no-one to whom to give it.
Therefore, this Treatise II has three parts. However, if you would
like each part to consist of four subsections, this makes four parts:
Part I, on Particular Virtues in general, which is made up of the first
four subsections; Part II, on Particular Virtues concerning ourselves, namely,
temperance and fortitude; Part III, on Particular Virtues concerning God,
namely, piety and religion; and Part IV, on Particular Virtues concerning
others (whom Christians call their neighbours), namely, justice and equity.
part i ‒ on particular virtues in general 67
PART I
On Particular Virtues in general
An Office of Virtue is an object of obedience, that is, the act and work
to which the virtue is inclined. Virtue is an intention of acting; the
acting that emanates from this intention is Obedience; and the act
itself we call an Office. We should not be deterred by the fact that
others have given these words different senses: it is the right of any-
one making a definition to say what he would like to signify by a
name, even though others may want it to mean something else.
It is clear from this definition of an Office that Virtue itself must
also be numbered among the Offices of Virtue; for we make the
intention of doing what Reason dictates into the selfsame intention
of doing what Virtue dictates; and just as the pleasure with which
something delights us in itself delights us, so the intention with which
we propose and decide to do something becomes in itself for us
something intended. Hence, we should take great care here, lest prior
to the intention in which Virtue consists we devise for ourselves cer-
tain inducements and enticements with which Reason may induce
and invite us into the intention of deciding to do what Reason dic-
tates. This would be to overturn Virtue entirely, and abandon it in
favour of self-love, which we made it our business in Treatise I to
exclude and guard against. All these inducements and invitations can
result in nothing but Passionate Love. Whatever comes of this love
is sinful, and leads to Intemperance, as we shall see in the subsec-
tion on Temperance. Therefore, if Virtue should require Reason to
lead us to obey Reason with inducements and invitations, it will nec-
essarily involve Lust and Intemperance: in other words, Virtue would
be not Virtue, but Vice, which is altogether absurd. The intention
of obeying Reason comes first, and is somehow born of itself: it is
both the whole of Virtue and an Office of Virtue.
From the foregoing we see also that an Office of Virtue is inter-
nal when it is discharged in the mind or soul, but external when it is
diffused outside the mind into the body and other things. For even
though we can effect nothing on external things (as we learned from
the Inspection of Oneself in Treatise I), Virtue often dictates that
68 ETHICS ‒ treatise ii
§ 2. Virtue is individual
The individual is what cannot be divided into parts. We therefore say that
Virtue is individual because one virtue cannot be without another,
but where there is one there must necessarily be all, and where some
virtue is lacking there is no virtue.
Indeed, with the Cardinal Virtues this could not be clearer from
the preceding Treatise, where I showed that Virtue, whenever it
extends into its Office, necessarily keeps company with these four:
part i ‒ on particular virtues in general 69
§ 3. Virtue is equable
That is, Virtues are equal among themselves, none is either greater
or less than another. The vulgar see this as a monstrous paradox:
as if (they say) it is not of greater virtue to serve your father than
your servant; to defend the public than one citizen! But here they
again err, and because of the same confusion as I have just explained,
that is, confusion of an Office of Virtue with Virtue itself. Accordingly,
I say that it is a greater office to serve your father than your ser-
vant; but I emphatically deny that the Virtue itself is greater. Some
Offices are greater than others because they are more urgent, cir-
cumstances being such that when one has to be deferred, the latter
will have to be deferred rather than the former. During a shipwreck
your father and your servant may struggle at the same time to avoid
drowning, but if only one of them can be snatched from the waves
and rescued, who would hesitate to rescue one’s father and defer
rescuing one’s servant?
part i ‒ on particular virtues in general 71
And even though some Offices of Virtue may be greater and more
urgent, nevertheless no Virtue is greater than another. If this were
to be the case, the lesser Virtue would be not a Virtue but a Vice.
The reason is that it is incumbent on us to do the best we can
(which no-one denies who does not avert his gaze from the clear
light of nature). If we did less, we would fall into Vice. The matter
is beyond dispute. Suppose your father to be in danger at the same
time as your servant (as I said earlier): if it is a superior Virtue to
rescue the father, and an inferior Virtue to rescue your servant, this
latter Virtue will be the sheerest infamy. To rescue your servant in
that case, and to defer rescuing your father will strike no-one as
being anything but infamous and unnatural. How incoherent it is,
to have to concede that a Virtue can become a Vice! You ought to
concede on the same principle that light can be darkness, heat cold,
and in short, everything that you would describe as absurd.
But that an Office of Virtue may be informed by Vice, and indeed
that this is very often the case, we should not find surprising, in
view of what has already been explained in § 1. Accordingly, if in
the course of rescuing your father (in the example just cited) you
also defer rescuing your servant, you do not embrace a superior
Virtue and abstain from an inferior one, but simply embrace Virtue
and abstain from infamy. But if, on the contrary, you rescue your
servant, while neglecting to rescue your father, you then really dis-
charge not so much an Office of Virtue as an uninformed Office,
devoid of Virtue and replete with infamy.
And in truth, for anyone who appreciates that nothing belongs to
Virtue by chance, there can be no doubt about the equality of
Virtues. For if one Virtue were superior to another, chance would
determine whether I act for the best or fall short of it. Suppose that
the opportunity arises for me to rescue my servant, my father not
needing to be rescued (not being involved in any danger), and for
you to rescue your father, or deliver the state, something that is not
available to me because I am absent. Then you, through circum-
stance and good fortune, will be better than I. You will not be bet-
ter in respect of Virtue; you will not even be better in an absolute
sense (for it is Virtue alone that can make one both good and bet-
ter, in whatever degree is involved; chance having no part in it).
You see, then, the absurd consequences of this: namely, that you
will be better than I, but not in Virtue; from which it follows that
you will be at once better and not better.
72 ETHICS ‒ treatise ii
And how utterly destructive is this belief of the vulgar that some
Virtues are inferior, and some superior! For as a result they begin
to count Virtue among the benefits of chance, a belief that, once
established, dissipates the whole of Virtue, making those who are
more fortunate begin to seem more virtuous to us. But this is to
overturn the very foundations of Virtue. Accordingly, whether a vir-
tuous man is the saviour of his country, or when at home is cour-
teous and affable with his friends, he is equally virtuous. The former
Office is to be sure greater than the latter, but it is not also a greater
Virtue, inasmuch as the entire essence and nature of Virtue are com-
prehended in this one precept: I wish to put into effect that alone which
Reason dictates.
§ 4. Virtue is one
PART II
On Particular Virtues touching upon ourselves
§ 5. Temperance
* The legend is about a beautiful girl fed on snake poison, whom Aristotle advised
Alexander to avoid. Cf. Antoine Mizaldus, Memorabilium, utilium, ac iucundorum cen-
turiae novem, First Hundred, Number 59, Paris: Federicus Morellus, 1584, 9v. Geulincx
may have remembered a passage from Giambattista della Porta, who retold the
story in his Magia Naturalis of 1558 in a chapter in which he also discusses the con-
sumption of spiders. Cf. Johannes Baptista Porta, Magia Naturalis IX, Chapter 14.
Various editions of this work appeared in Leiden during the 1640s and 1650s,
amongst which at least one Dutch edition: Jan Baptista Porta, Magia ofte De won-
derlijcke, seer lustighe, ende vermaeckelijcke Wercken der Naturen, Leiden: Johannes Meyer,
1655, in which both passages occur in Book 2, Chapter 22, page 243.
part ii ‒ on particular virtues touching upon ourselves 77
called human, the latter of the two being also known as ambition, the
former avarice, taken in a more general sense. Intemperance in respect
of science and knowledge is called curiosity; in respect of Virtue and
the practice of Virtue, it called vanity.
Stupor is divided into four main classes. The first is extreme, or
Hypercynic Stupor, the Stupor of those who, so far from pursuing
pleasure, court torment and pain: I made mention of them in Treatise
I, in the Section on Humility. In the next grade down comes Cynic
Stupor: the Cynics hated all pleasant things alike, rejecting Rhetoric,
Poetry, Music, Painting, and everything that might cause pleasure.
This kind of Stupor does not court pain, but hates pleasure and
everything pleasant. This is followed by Stoic Stupor: they did not
hate pleasant things, but on the contrary conceded that they should
sometimes be embraced, such as when the performance of an Office
demands it; but pleasure and delight in themselves they did not
value. This kind of Stupor, therefore, admits pleasant things, but
excludes pleasure itself. In fourth place comes Peripatetic Stupor: they
hated neither pleasant things nor pleasure in itself, but rather wel-
comed them, thinking merely that the parts of pleasure which would
be excessive and seem too much should be abridged.2 Accordingly,
this kind of Stupor, the least stupid of all, admits both pleasurable
things and pleasure itself, only it moderates pleasure and keeps it
within bounds. Contrary to all this, the Temperate man does not
avoid pain, does not court pleasure, and does not reject pleasure
either in whole or in part, but leaving all these things as they are,
and setting them at naught, does only what Reason dictates.
§ 7. Fortitude
with Cicero that although Epicurus was a man of high morality, his philosophy
was not. Cf. Geulincx’ Disputationes de summo bono of 1668, in Opera III, 283–360.
The quotation from the Letter to Menoeceus occurs at the bottom of page 338.
part ii ‒ on particular virtues touching upon ourselves 79
in the mean, and neither flees nor pursues it; it is concerned with
Reason, and open to Reason alone; it sets distress at naught, that
is, so far as the will is concerned. As for how much sensations and
passions are concerned, we saw in the preceding subsection that a
man of Fortitude may be hard pressed by them.
Yet no-one seems to court pain for its own sake: virtuous men
conduct themselves negatively towards it, vicious men, far from pur-
suing it, flee from it; but on the other hand, we do seem to pursue
pain when we hurl ourselves needlessly into situations from which
pain is inseparable. Some people seem to be avid for fear itself and
danger, notwithstanding that (as I pointed out in the preceding sub-
section) fear comes close to pain; for fear (especially among bold and
rebellious youth) has something in it that tickles their fancy, and
affects them in that extraordinary way in which they are observed
to take so much pleasure. But such pleasure seems to come not so
much from fear itself, as from the hope that accompanies it. Something
similar is also found in pain and sorrow in the strict sense: there
are some, always bathed in sighs and tears, who reject all consola-
tion, and seem to take pleasure in sorrow itself.
From these observations a certain division of Rage can be imme-
diately inferred: namely, into Rage that embraces pain itself (and
can be called Rage proper, or for ease of remembrance may also
be termed insanity), and into Rage that plunges needlessly into situ-
ations from which pain is inseparable, without any liking for pain
itself (which can be called lack of foresight or rashness). Rage can also
be divided in another way, comparable with the division of Fortitude
into Fortitude proper and Patience. Rage that is in excess of Patience,
and pursues sorrow itself, if possible, or at least situations that bring
sorrow, is called inhumanity—the inhumanity of those who scourge
and macerate themselves, and in other ways embrace sorrowful things.
But Rage that is in excess of Fortitude proper, and welcomes either
danger itself and fear, or at least dangerous, uncertain, and fearful
things, is called recklessness. This is the behaviour of those who need-
lessly endanger themselves in storms at sea, climb tall buildings, or
throw themselves into drunken fights and swordplay, either because
of a craving for such dangers, or out of ostentation and vanity.
Softness can be divided in a similar way. What is in defect with
respect to Patience is called Impatience: like those who because of some
present affliction abandon the rule of Reason and do not fulfil the
roles that are incumbent upon them. They deliberately give themselves
82 ETHICS ‒ treatise ii
up to tears, laments, and sighs, and are said to be Soft and Impatient.
But Softness that is in defect to Fortitude proper is called Timidity,
Pusillanimity, Cowardice, and Faintheartedness. The Fainthearted and the
Timid, who desert their post out of fear of being driven from it, lis-
ten not to what Reason counsels, but to what Fear counsels, and
obey this instead.
But one should take careful note that all these vices, when they
are considered not outwardly and superficially (which is most often
the case), but inwardly and in depth, prove to be akin to Intemperance;
and this is true even of Stupor, which might seem to be the dia-
metrical opposite of Intemperance, but when examined turns out to
be related to it. Whenever men wander from the true path of Reason,
they are always allured by the deceits of pleasure and delight; and
to be driven by pleasure is to be Intemperate. Therefore, those who
torture, scourge, and even slay themselves, are always attracted to
it by pleasure, and are, as the poet has rightly said:
PART III
On Particular Virtues touching upon God
§ 9. Piety
* Ab eo quod coelo delapsum est: Phrase originally used by the followers of Epicurus,
in order to suggest the divinity of his views. Cf. Grynaeus, 194. Geulincx may have
Virgil in mind here, who uses the expression in recounting Aeneas’s vision of his
father in Aeneid V, 722.
†
Cf. Metaphysica Vera, part 3, “Scientia” 1, and Annotation, in Opera II, 186–187
and 285–286, respectively/Metaphysics, 94–95.
84 ETHICS ‒ treatise ii
* Cf. Metaphysica Vera, part 3, “Scientia” 3, and Annotation, in Opera II, 188 and
287–288, respectively/Metaphysics, 97–98.
part iii ‒ on particular virtues touching upon god 85
§ 10. Adoration
The Vice that is the opposite of Piety can be called by the general
name of Impiety; just as the Vice that is the opposite of Temperance,
whether in excess or defect, can simply be called Intemperance. Of
course, these are general terms, and include in their meaning excess
as much as defect, though more usually defect, inasmuch as the vul-
gar recognise Vice in defect rather than in excess, as I remarked in
Treatise I, in the paragraph on Justice, under [4].*
Moreover, Impiety also has two parts, one involving false ideas of
God, the other false worship. And as to the first part, it seems to
be divided into four further parts, namely, False Zeal, Idolology, Atheism,
and Heresy.
False Zeal attributes to God what does not belong to Him. As this
is mostly the result of reckless zeal, I have generally called False Zeal
a Vice: it is the Vice of those who ascribed a body and a human
form to God, such as (among philosophers) Epicurus, and (among
pagans) the whole of the vulgar. To this is contrasted:
Heresy, which diminishes God, and removes His competencies; as
when concern for human affairs, providence, and government are
denied of God, which Epicurus likewise did.
Idolology is when we attribute to some creature what belongs to
God.
Lastly, Atheism, in which God Himself is removed, and His attributes
projected onto brute nature; as with those who claim that everything
was made without knowledge, without sense, and by some natural
necessity, of whose explanation we are ignorant; such as that the
angles in a triangle must be equal to two right-angles by brute neces-
sity, and not dependent on any understanding (as it seems to them).
But how wrong they are, how uninformed and stupid, I demonstrate
Obligations, but want to have things all our own way, or pray to
God for the sake of our happiness, and what seems to constitute it.
To Gratitude are similarly opposed Neglect, when we do not tender
thanks at all, and Misuse, in which we tender thanks to God for evil
things, such as avenging ourselves on an enemy, the opportunity for
Vice, lewdness, criminality, escaping the sanctions of the law, and
the like.
§ 12. Religion
power, wisdom, and other attributes. Hence are expunged the dreams
and portents of the Brahmins, the Turks or Mahometans, and other
Pagans and Idolaters, which contain manifest incongruities, the fol-
lies of old women, and often execrable infamies.
The second Rule is, that what we propose to accept on Divine
authority should to some degree, and indeed to the maximum pos-
sible degree, be of concern to us. For God is not one who would
want us to occupy ourselves with idle matters, or have leisure for
things that are of no importance to us, such as those innumerable
worlds, and spaces between worlds, over which Democritus, and after
him, Epicurus, used to trouble themselves, since they are not even
consistent with Reason, let alone incumbent on us under Holy
Scripture; for they are nothing to us. It is enough for us to know
that the power of God is immense, and that He performs more
things than we can conceive. Whether He wields that power over
other men elsewhere, and in other realms, and in worlds yet to be
founded, ruled, and governed, this, as I said, matters nothing to us.
The third Rule is, that what is claimed as genuine Divine testi-
mony, should be confirmed by signs and miracles that can originate
only from God; for otherwise anyone will sell us his dreams, and
press them on us in the guise of Divine Revelation and authority.
Therefore, if God acknowledges as His the things that they claim,
it will show beyond doubt, with the force of evidence and irrefutable
arguments, that these things emanated from Him.
The fourth Rule is, that we should keenly feel God as it were
speaking to us, and saying that these things are His, originate from
Him, and that it is He who is saying them, even though our Reason
cannot grasp them. And this is the most important Rule of all, and
even suffices on its own; but it is liable to boundless tricks, frauds,
disorders, and temptations, which should be carefully kept at bay by
humble prayers offered and poured out, and especially by living
purely and simply, for the best service of God is a good spirit—which
seems to be the Oracle not of Seneca, but of God Himself.*
* The line optimus Dei cultus bonus animus est refers to Pseudo-Seneca’s Liber de
moribus, often printed together with the Proverbia that were also attributed to Seneca.
Cf. e.g. Seneca, Liber de moribus, Rome: Stephanus Plannck, c. 1490, s.p.: ‘Optimus
ergo animus pulcherrimus cultor dei est.’ The work has later been attributed to
Publilius Syrus. Cf. Publilius Syrus Mimus, Sententiae, ed. Otto Friedrich, Berlin:
Grieben, 1880/reprint Hildesheim: Georg Olms, 1964, 88: ‘28. Bonus ánimus cul-
tor ést dei pulchérrimus.’ The vulgate Bible knows no similar text, but the idea of
a contrite heart being more important than ceremony is found in Psalm 51: 17.
part iv ‒ on particular virtues touching upon other men 91
PART IV
On Particular Virtues touching upon other men
When Virtue touches upon other men, the general name for it is
Equity, according to which all men are to have equal place with us.
Further to this, we may say that the three particular Virtues, that
is, the three most general kinds of Particular Virtue, are: Humility
(in the Particular sense), Piety, and Equity. Equity also has two parts,
namely, to inspect another man (whom Christians traditionally call
one’s Neighbour), and to respect him, or hold him in equal place with
oneself.
As far as inspection of our Neighbour is concerned, we soon see
that he is by nature constituted as we ourselves are; that he was
brought here without being aware of it, that he will be carried away,
and that while here he will act in complete dependence on the will
of someone else, called God; and that in consequence he has the
same Obligations as we have. And it is not necessary to say very
much concerning his inspection, since it may easily be gathered from
what I said concerning the Inspection of Ourselves.
The second part of Equity is more important, and is that from
which Equity gets its name; and it is, to value our neighbour as ourselves.
From this the Obligation of bringing aid and sustenance to him
immediately follows. And just as we ought not to do anything that
does not serve our Obligations, so neither should we help our neigh-
bour with anything unless it furthers his Obligations. All the help
92 ETHICS ‒ treatise ii
that we rush to him must always be with a view to his fulfilling his
own Obligations. It is very wrong, and altogether abject to flatter
him, to serve his lusts and dissipations, to supply him with the means
to obtain honour and riches; and in fact, even consolation, if it causes
him to persist or stand in his condition: it is right to do such things
only if they are addressed to his Obligations. Equity, therefore, dic-
tates that, because our neighbour has a duty to live, and to remain
here until he is summoned hence by God ( just the same as we have),
we should help him to fulfil his Obligations: if he is drowning, let
us pull him out of the water, if he is sick, let us tend him, if he
lacks the means to live, let us support him, and counsel, encourage,
and assist him with the mode of life that he should adopt.
If in the event that it should happen that either we cannot sat-
isfy our Obligations or he his, we ought rather to fulfil ours than
his; so that if we both fall into the water, and I have enough to do
to save myself, he must be left to shift for himself; and not because
charity begins at home, as the vulgar say, or because I should have
no greater love than for myself, and should favour myself over all
others (which is foolish, and obviously directed by self-love, that is,
by sin), but because my own Obligations bind me more strongly to
following them than to promoting the Obligations that other men
have, as is self-evident, and easily deduced from the example of
human laws. For when something is enjoined on many, we are
obliged to follow, each for himself, what the injunction says, rather
than help a companion to follow it.
With Equity, I make a distinction between Equity in the strict
sense, and Justice.
Justice (and I mean by this, particular, rather than Cardinal Justice,
as in Treatise I) grants to one’s neighbour what is due to him strictly
by right, that is, regardless of any grace and favour towards him. It
means delivering to each the reward of his work, to the buyer the
goods, to the vendor the price, to be determined by contracts and
promises, not out of bare Equity, but out of Justice, in which no
favour towards one’s neighbour is involved. To a judicious man, dili-
gently performing the work that was contracted, to add something
beyond the maximum that he bargained for is Equity, not Justice,
because in Equity a certain grace and favour shine upon one’s neigh-
bour, although it is nothing if one compares it to God’s law, as in
the strict sense God’s law exacted the work.
part iv ‒ on particular virtues touching upon other men 93
INTRODUCTION
A Natural End is that to which something is by its nature subject and tends;
for example, learning with respect to study, for study by nature
derives its value from the learning that is to be acquired. An Operative
End is that for the sake of which someone works; for example, when some-
one studies diligently in pursuit of learning, it can happen that the
96 ETHICS ‒ treatise iii
Operative End is learning itself. From this example you see also that
the same thing can be both the natural end and the operative end. But
they can also be quite different. For example, when someone pours
oil onto a fire, believing it to be water, the Operative End is to put
out the fire (as that is what the one who acts intends by his action,
to put out the fire), but the Natural End is to inflame the fire (as
what he does tends by its nature to inflame the fire). Treatise I (in
the Adminicle of Humility) also makes it clear enough that happiness
is a Natural End of Virtue (for Virtue alone has the natural power
to confer happiness), but is not an Operative End (for a virtuous
man does not practise Virtue for the sake of happiness but for the
sake of his Obligation).
This distinction having been put in place according to the true
and solid principle that I have stated, many difficulties raised out of
the Holy Scriptures by people whose understanding of them is imper-
fect are easily despatched and dissolved with its aid.
Of these two Ends, the Natural End appears to take precedence,
being determined by Nature or God, whereas the Operative End is
determined by us. For this reason, things never frustrate the Natural
End (that is, the ultimate End, which alone is the End properly
speaking), while they often frustrate the Operative End; as when,
pursuing learning for the sake of glory, we are often frustrated of
learning and glory alike. Further, the ultimate Natural End of all
things is God; for all things have their being and come to pass
through His grace (as we shall see later). And nothing frustrates this
End; for it is impossible for anything to come to pass that does not
accord with His grace, glory, and satisfaction.
receive a benefit from you; the dignity of a patron being higher than
that of a client, and the dignity of one who confers a benefit being
higher than that of one who receives it. For example, even though
a ruler may be superior to a physician within the State, yet when
he is ill, or at least susceptible to illness, so that he requires the ser-
vices of a physician, and needs the benefit conferred by him, he is
to that extent inferior to the physician, as is self-evident from the
principle stated above.
Therefore, if someone wishes to benefit another, he never does so
without there being some stigma attached to the other person; for
at least he thereby immediately exalts himself above the other in the
matter to which the benefit relates. Hence, even the great and pow-
erful are vexed if we perform, even out of perfect charity, a service
to them; for they see, as it were, their indigence pointed out by
implication, and a certain superiority accorded to those who offer
to confer the benefit; in which lies the most unseemly impotence
and shame. For as men, we are all so constituted that as a matter
of course others must be, and can be, of use and assistance to us;
and in consequence there are a thousand occasions in which even
the lowliest of men can be of benefit to someone else, and to that
extent be also superior, greater, and worthier than he, as that incon-
trovertible saying has it: The dignity of a benefactor is higher than the dig-
nity of the one who receives the benefit.*
Let us pause here to note how preposterous is the Piety of those
who would gratify and benefit even God Himself, and how in Holy
Scripture Christ Himself reprehended such Piety, saying: If you love
me, you will keep my commandment.† I do not want you, He says, to
impart some grace or benefit to me; the greatest love that you can
have towards me is, and consists wholly in that you do as I com-
mand you; you can reach no higher to me.
Would you ask, then, to which of these two Ends God should be
ascribed? I reply: When these Ends (I mean Obedient and Beneficent)
are construed as Natural Ends, God is the Beneficent End of all
things; for all things naturally and with supreme necessity tend to
* Potior est persona benefactoris quam ejus qui beneficium accipit: Cf. Grynaeus, 639, where
the phrase Argentum accepi, imperium vendidi is further illustrated by the ‘well-known
saying’ Qui accipit beneficium, perdit libertatem; ‘There’s no such thing as a free lunch’
or, literally, ‘To receive a benefit is to lose one’s freedom.’ See also St. Thomas
Aquinas, Summa Theologiae II, 2a, Qu. 106, Art. 4, and Seneca, De beneficiis, passim.
†
St. John 15: 14.
on the end and the good 101
His gratification, favour, and satisfaction, when they come into being,
when they exist, and when they cease to exist. He is similarly the
Obedient End of the same kind; for all things follow the decree and
judgement of His will; and it is as impossible (if one may speak thus)
that the will of God should fail in its effect as that a hill should not
be accompanied by a vale. But if these Ends are construed as
Operative Ends, God cannot be a Beneficent End by reason of con-
siderations which are expressed in terms of lawfulness; that is, it is
not lawful to put God in the position of a Beneficent End; as is
plain enough from what has just been said. For similar reasons, nei-
ther can He be properly an Obedient End; for to wish to obey Him
as He is in Himself is simply to perform an act, and whether you
like it or not you will obey, or do absolutely what He wishes. All
the same, God is in a certain way per accidens an Obedient End,
namely, by virtue of the Law and Reason that He has instilled into
us. For when we are virtuous we obey Him in the strict sense; but
when we are vicious we still obey God Himself, though not His Law.
(See Treatise I, § 2). Since, moreover, the Law of God is from God,
when we obey His Law we seem in some way also to obey Him,
with an obedience above that of the wicked, who while ignoring His
Law, nevertheless and unwillingly do the sole thing that He wants.
love are appropriate only to an End, and adhere to it, while means
do not possess the will, but rather act as a way by which the will
may be carried through to an End. Hence, in the example cited,
the student does not love learning and knowledge, but honour.
Ultimate and Subordinate Ends also appear both in Natural and
Operative Ends, and in Ends-of-which and Ends-for-which. For exam-
ple, to their parents children are the End-for-which of many actions,
though a Subordinate one; for the parents themselves are the Ultimate
End-for-which, and the benefits they bring their children refer back
to themselves: they benefit the children in their own interests. And
similarly, a virtuous man can be an End-for-which for himself, though
a Subordinate one: he may look after the things that relate to his
convenience and pleasure (see Treatise I, Section II, § 1, on Humility),
but he looks after them only because of some further End, and in
the long run because of the Ultimate Obedient End, that is, God
and Reason.
It clearly follows from what has been said that God is absolutely
the Ultimate End, and that in the most excellent way: for He is a
Natural End (and this is more excellent than an Operative End), He
is an End-for-which (and this is nobler and more excellent than an
End-of-which), and He is both the Beneficent End and the Obedient
End of all things.1 And in all these Ends, by the very fact that every-
thing exists entirely for his sake, He is also the Ultimate End. But
God is not always the Ultimate Operative End; for even if our action
is in itself for the sake of God, we still do not always act for His
sake or for the sake of His Law. Alas, far from it! We rarely do as
much as that, as is clear enough from what has been said.
Good is what we love; Evil is what we are averse to: hence, Good
and Evil are external denominations, and presuppose nothing in the
thing that they denominate; the visible and the audible being simi-
lar denominations. This is clear from the fact that often what is good
to one may not be good to another; which is most obviously the
case in pleasant goods, for food and drink that are to the taste of
one palate may not be to the taste of another. In fact, this is also
found in virtuous goods, as what is virtuous to one may be vicious
to another; so that it is right to put to death an accused who has
been convicted of a felony by a court, but not so by a private cit-
on the end and the good 103
izen, what would be vicious in the latter case being virtuous in the
former.
But there is a difficulty: how can we say that Good is what we
love, and Evil what we are averse to, since men notoriously love
things that are noxious and evil, while hating things that are good
and profitable? It must be answered first, that while loves are diverse,
they fall into two main divisions, namely, the love of God, and the
love of what is Mine, that is, of Virtue and Self-love respectively:
what we love as Virtue is virtuous, what we love as Self-love is pleas-
ant. Accordingly, it often happens that what we love with one of
these loves is, if it is measured against the other type of love, hardly
meritorious, but worthy rather of the hatred that is the opposite of
such a love. For instance, the temperate say that the intemperate
love noxious and evil things; for the temperate are speaking with
respect to the Obedient Love that makes them temperate and vir-
tuous; and see that what the intemperate seek hardly merits such
love, and therefore is not good; but that it deserves the hatred and
execration that are the opposite of such love, and that therefore it
is evil, foul, and to be rejected. But the intemperate say on the con-
trary that virtuous men love evil and noxious things, because they
are speaking with respect to their own love, that is, Concupiscent
Love, of which the things that virtuous men do are unworthy. Virtuous
men neglect honour in favour of the contemplation of Reason, some-
times ruining their fortunes and falling into great calamities and bod-
ily infirmities. But what is a moral Good can be an unpleasant Evil,
and what is a pleasant Good, an immoral Evil; and in this sense we
can say that men often love what is evil. It is a Good, because they
love it; but an Evil, because it is not loved with another kind of
love, but rather rejected.
Secondly, men are sometimes even said to love what is an Evil,
and to hate what is a Good, within the same kind of love, because
they sometimes love something whose circumstances, if they had
them in view, they would certainly not love, but rather detest. For
example, children love and want to take pills that have been gilded,
whose bitterness, if they were aware of it, they would hardly want,
but would detest as soon as they began to taste it in their mouth.
The same thing occurs in matters of virtue as a result of invincible
ignorance, of which I shall speak later. But in all this, one must
remind oneself that what is loved and what is Evil are not exactly
the same, as in the example cited, where children love glitter, and
104 ETHICS ‒ treatise iii
it is good, that is, a pleasant Good, but hate the bitterness of which
they are unaware, and which is an unpleasant Evil. Thus, it is clear
that Good cannot be hated, and Evil cannot be loved, when we
speak of the same kind of love and hate, and concerning the same
object, which may be either loved or hated, and which may be either
good or bad.
Under the usual distinction, Good falls into Useful, Pleasant, and
Virtuous Good; whether rightly or wrongly, we shall see in what
follows.
§ 6. Useful Good
The Useful is a means to a Good, that is, anything that serves and con-
duces to the pursuit of a Good, in the sense of that which we love.
Thus, if learning is a Good, that is, we love it, study will be Useful,
as it naturally serves and conduces to our emerging learned. Similarly,
if during a storm survival is good to a merchant (as it assuredly is),
it will be useful for him to jettison his merchandise, as this naturally
serves and conduces to survival, that is, to his being saved, along
with his ship.
From this we see that a Useful Good is not absolutely a Good;
it is not loved in itself, and on its own account, but at most per
accidens, and it is said to be loved and desired for the sake of some-
thing else. Hence also, an End-of-which is not absolutely a Good,
but at most a Useful Good; for I showed a little earlier that it is
merely a means to an End-for-which. And further, it follows from
this that those who make God an End-of-which, and themselves an
End-for-which (as do those who say that they seek to follow God
Himself for their own sake, as one by whom they are to be eter-
nally blessed) do not place God among Good things, but place Him
only among Useful things; and, as I showed, Useful things are not
absolutely good, but are merely conducive to Goods.
Will you enquire, then, whether it is the same thing to be Useful
and to be a Means? And again, whether an End and a Good are
the same? I shall reply here to the first question, leaving the second
question until later. And I reply in the negative. For there are also
means to what we do not love; for example, a bad diet is a means
to ill-health, though a bad diet is not Useful in the absolute sense,
but rather useless and harmful. Therefore, to be a Useful Good
on the end and the good 105
§ 7. Pleasant Good
A Pleasant Good is that which we love with passionate love, such as health,
robustness, and so on, which in Treatise II I called favourable things.
From this we see that Pleasure also involves Virtue, in fact also
Usefulness; for many things are pleasant to us because they are vir-
tuous, many because they are useful, and passionate love can be
found in all love (which consists in intention), and for the most part
is indeed so found.
Therefore, a Pleasant Good does not require us to embrace it
with genuine love. There are some with no intention of making
themselves happy (such as all virtuous men) who also overflow with
the sweetest delights and pleasures. However, genuine love can be
* Deus et natura nil frustra, nil inutile fecerunt: axiom of Scholastic physics. Cf. Stephanus
Chauvin, Lexicon Philosophicum, Leeuwarden: Franciscus Halma, 17132, ed. Lutz
Geldsetzer, Düsseldorf: Janssen & Co., 1967, 432–433, under NATURA: ‘Quia autem
supremi legislatoris sapientiam maximè decet, ut modo simplicissimo omnia mod-
eretur & regat, meritò apud Philosophos haec sunt vulgata axiomata: Natura nihil
molitur frustrà: Natura odit superflua &c.’
106 ETHICS ‒ treatise iii
§ 8. Virtuous Good
A Virtuous Good is what we love because Reason dictates it; that is to say,
we love it with Obedient Love. And it is therefore nothing else than
the one whom you call a friend, but to Reason and God (for one
must always tender it to the Ultimate End, to which alone Reason
gives the name of Good). But if the latter, then you act out of desire,
and because it pleases you so to act; and so it is not the one you
call a friend whom your love endows with the name of Good, but
yourself through that love of yours; and your love, which seemed to
be Benevolent, is, on second thoughts, wholly Concupiscent.
It is also plain from what has been said, how gravely the evil sin
when they put themselves in place of what is proper to God. For
He alone is good; yet when they love themselves instead of Him,
they want not Him but themselves to be Goods; for to love is also
to have as a Good, and Love in itself constitutes a Good, inasmuch
as what it loves becomes for it a Good.
TREATISE IV
ON THE PASSIONS
INTRODUCTION
There are two parts to the human condition: to act on a body, and
to be acted upon by a body (which I demonstrated in my Metaphysics,
and discussed further in Treatise I when dealing with the Inspection
of Ourselves). The second part embraces affections and feelings; and
feelings indeed with more justification, which is why these days they
are what everyone means by passions.
There is in truth little difference between sensations and passions.
They coincide firstly, because they are both predicated on some per-
ception of ours; and this is nothing other than a certain condition,
by which we feel internally and in our mind or spirit, and of which
we are rendered conscious and certain by consciously observing it
within ourselves. It is just like seeing or loving: when I see, I am in
one mode; when I love, I am in another; and unmistakeably recog-
nise these modes in my consciousness. They coincide secondly, because
both (I mean sensations and feelings) arise in such a way from our
body that we have no trouble in understanding that if we lacked a
body we would lack all the modes as well. But they differ because
we usually ascribe sense-perception to external things, as providing their
source, and usually also with a judgement that the things themselves
are similarly affected, and have modes similar to those they convey
to us. So it is that when we see a light we ascribe the perception
or likeness to the Sun, fire, etc., judging these objects to be endowed
with such an image. But a perception and likeness that are found
in feeling or passion we do not ascribe to things placed outside us,
nor do we judge those things to have something similar in them.
For example, with an enemy at hand to deal with, though we may
be struck by hatred or fear of him, we do not judge that he has in
himself such a likeness as is aroused in us by his appearance.
110 ETHICS ‒ treatise iv
The Stoics were of the opinion that all Passions are evil in the moral
sense, while the Aristotelians said that moderate Passions are good,
but placed immoderate ones among the vices. They were both well
wide of the mark; for if there were anything evil in them, it would
have to be imputed not to us, but to God, the author of our con-
dition; and this must be rejected; for a good part of the human con-
dition consists in these passions, and it is almost entirely through
them that we exist as men. If they were to be withdrawn from us
along with the senses, we would no longer be able to regard our-
selves as men. Passions are, then, so far as nature is concerned, quite
good, though some of them are unpleasant to us or affect us adversely
(such as pain, fear, etc.); but so far as morality is concerned they
are neither good nor bad for us, but have the same character as
seeing and hearing, etc, on account of which no-one is called either
virtuous or vicious.
But you will say: some Passions, those by which men are incited
to criminal acts, murders, and horrid perversions, are foul, lustful,
obscene, and wicked. I reply: that men are incited by those Passions,
this indeed is evil; but those same Passions are not in themselves
evil; for they merely contain in themselves a certain perception,
impressed on us by our body, and necessarily channelled into us;
though not so much by the body (which is an irrational thing, and
consequently can, in the sense of having a real effect, cause noth-
ing), as by the author of our body and human condition. That we
follow our Passions, this indeed is reprehensible, because our author
does not want us, led on by them, either to act or refrain from act-
ing, but subjects us entirely to Reason, and wants us to act and to
refrain from acting according to its dictates. In the same way, when
He granted us senses, He did not thereby want us to use them in
the investigation of truth, but rather to use innate notions and ideas.
This is why, incidentally, it is observed that those who follow the
senses in Philosophy are to be counted with those who follow their
Passions in Ethics.*
Note also, that we not only follow our Passions most of the time,
but that we also have a great propensity to follow them; which is
indeed a sort of weakness of ours. We do not attend sufficiently to
Reason (which alone ought to move us), and we are also uncertain
whether we wish to follow its lead or give orders to it, always inclin-
ing more to the things to which passion draws us. This propensity,
weakness, and uncertainty are a great source of corruption; and
because we find it hard to distinguish it from the Passions them-
selves, some ascribe that corruption, which they should have imputed
to themselves, to their Passions, and to God as the author of them
(for this is the inevitable consequence). There is, therefore, for exam-
ple, in carnal lust (which is a very vehement passion, especially in
youth) a certain sensation or perception, which in itself is not harm-
ful; but which eventually, as we continue to take delight in this
Passion, makes itself felt as a propensity to the pursuit of other things,
things towards which it seems to impel us; and in this there is cor-
ruption and sin.
Hence it comes about that even honest and upright men, excited
by the consciousness of certain Passions, may be embarrassed and
ashamed about it. This is not to be considered as arising from the
sensation of experiencing the Passions within themselves, but because
of the propensity to desert Reason and follow Passion that they expe-
rience so intensely within themselves at the same time. For in this
propensity and (as I have termed it) weakness, lies the real disgrace,
the real shame.
You will ask: why do we have this propensity? I reply: because
we are born infants; and as a result will cleave first to sensations
and Passions rather than Reason (as I have, it so happens, demon-
strated elsewhere).* But why are we born infants, rather than men,
with the full use of Reason? At this point Philosophy stalls.
See my Broader Annotations on Descartes, especially those sections that
deal with the origin of error.†
The actions of the vulgar almost always arise from Passion. They
are at first driven to learning, and the acquisition of some settled
mode of life, by fear of parents, instructors, and schoolteachers. When
they have conditioned themselves to this mode of life, they usually
also come to love it, and through this love and familiarity (which
are again Passions) persist in it. They are all the more firmly attached
to it and driven by dread of the unfamiliar, of which all the vulgar
are terrified to the utmost possible degree; so much so that we observe
that most of them, however much they are urged to change their
mode of life, will do so only when the time comes also to exchange
life itself for death. And these make up the first, or lowest grade of the
vulgar, who are, as I said, kept about their duties by love and famil-
iarity, if they have become conditioned to them; and by fear and
dread, if they have not. In a word, they are like children, and form
the greatest part of the vulgar.
It must also be noted that what the vulgar call conscience is a mere
Passion; in fact, a stimulus and compulsion to follow the dictates of
Reason. When they have obeyed it, it abates a little (as all Passions
are wont to do), whereupon they say that they have appeased their
conscience; but when they defy it, they are tormented and oppressed,
whereupon they say that they have a disturbed conscience, or that they
are pricked by their conscience; all of which are similarly found in other
Passions. But as they lack genuine diligence, and never pay enough
attention to Reason, most of the things in which they are pricked
by their conscience tend to be obscure to them; and so they tend
to connect these obscure things with other obscure things that are
not dictated by Reason.1 For example, Reason dictates that violence
should not be used against other men. From this dictate of Reason
they obscurely infer that the bones of the dead should not be removed
from their resting-place, which they judge to be a great crime if they
contravene it; and such beliefs are recorded everywhere in the his-
tories of the pagans.
There can, therefore, be no doubt that those among the vulgar
who obey their conscience obey nothing but their Passions. All the
same, they are called religious and holy.
on the passions 113
Such people make up the second grade of the vulgar; but they are
comfortably in league with the first grade, for they are pricked by
their conscience only in respect of unfamiliar actions, so that here
dread of the unfamiliar predominates. In a word, they are like women,
in whom this feeling is more conspicuous.
The third grade of the vulgar consists of those who have overcome
something of their fear of the unfamiliar through an opposing
overconfidence and recklessness. They even go so far as to court
danger, and are not so terrified by the unfamiliar; and if they advance
enough in this, they wander from one situation to the next, and
transfer their fear to anything that is steady and constant—on account
of which they are considered drifters. And if as a result of their
overconfidence and recklessness they go so far in their rejection of
fear of the unfamiliar as to despise even death, they turn men of
war, and pass for men of virtue with the vulgar, if they are ambi-
tious; but if they despise honour as well, prove thieves and robbers.
And this third grade is generally that of men.
Lastly, the fourth grade of the vulgar consists of those who temper
and moderate one Passion with another. For example, if they should
find themselves excessively afraid whether they will be able to keep
themselves about their duties, they summon up courage, and spur
themselves on with hope of fame; or if they should feel themselves
prey to pleasures or lusts, they discourage themselves with fear of
ill-repute. To the vulgar they seem wise men and philosophers.
But all these folk, however moderate and composed they may
appear (as with the first grade), devout and religious (as with the
second grade), magnanimous and acute (as with the third grade), or
wise and perspicacious (as with the fourth grade), are disgraceful and
rascally sinners, who do nothing out of Reason, but everything out
of Passion.
The Philosophers, observing that the vulgar always act out of Passions,
determined to take the opposite course, and endeavoured to act con-
trary to their Passions; but thereby they showed that they were not
really wise, but merely deluded in a more ostentatious manner than
114 ETHICS ‒ treatise iv
* According to Diogenes Laertius, Vitae Philosophorum III, 39, it was one of his
slaves whom Plato spared a beating for this reason.
on the passions 115
Those who are truly virtuous (as Christians are, if they are what
they are said to be not only in name, but in reality) act neither out
of Passion (in which is manifest impotence and weakness), nor against
it (in which is manifest unreason and fanaticism), but above Passion.
For they may be said to pass it by, and not deem it worthy of any
consideration; whether a passion is absent or present, they are not
anxious about it; they do what Reason dictates, and care for this
alone. Thus, if they become angry, they do not therefore resort to
violence (which is the way of the vulgar), but neither do they abstain
from violence (which is very much the way of the exalted Philosophers).
They do not say with the vulgar: You will be beaten, because I am angry;
nor do they say with the Philosophers: You would be beaten, if I were
not angry; but say: You will be beaten, because Reason dictates that you be
beaten by me, whether I who then beat you happen to be angry or not. Or
they say: You will not be beaten, because Reason forbids it, whether I then
feel pity for you or not. No-one can fail to grasp a proposition which
breathes so much of the nobility of purpose that characterises the
virtuous man in all respects.
Hence, it is now clear that virtuous men often act with Passion,
but never from Passion. That is, Passion often accompanies their
actions, but is never a cause of their actions; it is Reason alone to
which they reserve the right to dictate or forbid their actions. It is
also clear that it is an arduous and difficult business not to stumble
or fall in the process. For since Passions are naturally linked with
our actions, what must necessarily accompany them may also pre-
cede them, and that those who have begun to chastise in anger go
on to chastise from anger, and also that those who with pleasure
embark on a pious and good work go on to complete it out of plea-
sure. And in truth, when we examine the matter closely we are made
all too aware that this is how we ourselves behave.
You will say: The Passions interfere with diligence, that is, lis-
tening to Reason: for it is an oft-quoted and a true verse that:
on the passions 117
* Pluribus intentus minor est ad singula sensus: Latin aphorism of unknown origin.
118 ETHICS ‒ treatise iv
The enemies of Virtue are not our Passions (as they are unjustifiably
believed to be by the vulgar, with the Stoics making common cause
here with the vulgar), but our inclinations, proclivities, and propensities to
act or refrain from acting out of Passion. Ignorantly confusing these
propensities with the Passions themselves, they recklessly turn the
whole of Ethics, in fact I would even venture to say the whole of
Piety, upside down.1
Therefore, just as our proclivity to apply sensual appearances to
the external objects that present the occasion of those appearances
is to be dissociated from the Senses, so also that inclination of ours,
by which we feel ourselves moved, and impelled as if by violence
to do or not do something out of Passion or on account of the
Passions themselves, is to be dissociated from Passions. And those
who wander into this error do indeed turn the whole of Ethics upside
down; just as those who wander into the other error that I have
presently noted turn the whole of Physics upside down; which those
who have cultivated the true Physics (delivered to us by Descartes),
can perceive readily enough.
Moreover, different men have proclivities to different Passions:
some of them are irascible, that is, inclined to vengefulness; some are
lustful, that is, inclined to act out of lust, or venereal passion; others
are fearful, that is, prone to flee or abandon their post, and to act
on the passions 119
out of fear in other, similar ways; and so on. And they aver that
they are stimulated by anger to take vengeance, impelled by lust to
rape, by fear to flight. But they are seriously mistaken: for they are
excited to this or that act not by their Passions, but by some propensity
of theirs, a propensity that inclines them to act out of Passion. Hence,
it is not the case that there are different proclivities in different men
to obey Passions, but similar and almost the same proclivity in all
of them, their body being disposed in this or that way to this or
that passion. Thus, some are inclined to venery, others not to venery
but to vengeance. The same proclivity is in each of them, that is,
to act out of Passion; but in the venereal man, for example, the
body is peculiarly disposed to inflict venereal Passion on his mind.
Hence also for the diversity of localities, ages, conditions, experiences,
and so on: certain men are said to be given to certain vices because
their body is disposed to this or that Passion in this or that locality,
age, and so on, so that the accompanying proclivity or propensity
of the mind to act out of Passion results externally in this or that vice.
Accordingly, no blame rests with Passions themselves, as I con-
clusively demonstrated in § 1 of this Treatise. On the contrary, the
corruption consists wholly in weakness of mind, that is, the procliv-
ity to act out of Passion. For the mind, as if joined in marriage with
the body, shows by that proclivity that it is like an uxorious man,
whom that verse of the Poet hits off exactly:
§ 6. The Flesh
* Uxori nupsit turpiter ille suae: variation on Martial, Epigrammata VIII, 12, 2: uxori
nubere nolo meae: ‘I don’t want to be my wife’s wife.’
120 ETHICS ‒ treatise iv
name has quite often been interpreted by others), but a general pro-
clivity to Pleasant Good as such, without consideration of what others
may think of us. Moreover, there are many other pleasant goods
besides venery, which earlier on I called favourable things. See Treatise
II on Temperance.
But among favourable things, only honour respects others, and
what others think about us, and so must be excluded from consideration
as flesh. As for other favourable things, to crave them on account of
the pleasure that they contain in themselves, is carnal; even the study
of literature and Philosophy, in fact even the exercises and Offices
of Virtues. We realise from this that those who are charged with
the education of rude adolescence in letters, Philosophy, and human-
ity, but do little to prepare them for the stern demands of Reason,
and hold their attention with fables, and the delights of the Muses,
are not far removed from panders. To them must also be added (even
if this seems a little harsh) those who seek to use that Passionate
Love which they call devotion to attract Christian folk to divine wor-
ship, and hold them fixed and stable in it. (See Treatise I, § 1).
Note, that it is not carnal when at the dictate of Reason we make
leisure for favourable things to flow with the delights which they
naturally afford us; but it is carnal to grasp at them, crave them,
and to make leisure for things that have the reputation of being
delightful. See the broader discussion in Treatise II on Intemperance
and Stupor.
From this we also realise how the Flesh has taken possession of
the whole of mankind. Adolescence, and the first age of life, are
especially threatened by it. For adolescents are unwilling to be led
to the study of letters, much less to Philosophy and the embracing
of some institution of life, unless it be by Mistress Pleasure; by whom
they are more strictly disciplined than by their teachers and men-
tors, who not unaware of her character, entice them, or rather
ensnare them, with indulgences, the charms of the Poets, and the
allure of fables. Then, as if they have performed a great matter, and
deserve well of the public and of society, when they have thus cor-
rupted the youth entrusted to them, ensnared them, and delivered
them wholly to the Flesh, they glory in it, and think themselves wor-
thy of the most lavish rewards.
on the passions 121
§ 7. The World
The World craves the pleasure that is born out of the esteem of other
men for us and for our actions; and since we can easily obtain that
esteem (inasmuch as it is wholly dependent on the will of others) if
we make ourselves obliging to them, worldly men who are benevo-
lent and munificent are often well-regarded by their fellow-citizens
and by the public. But all they do is directed towards themselves in
the form of glory, esteem, dignity, lavish state, pomp, and similar
playthings of the imagination, figments, and chimaeras, which are
difficult to express in words. But it is easy to understand what I
mean here by worldly men, or men who are sometimes worldly.
The Flesh, therefore, respects only itself, and is led only by con-
templation of itself, while the World lifts up its mind’s eye, no higher
indeed, but only to disperse and scatter it more widely. I mean that
the World is chiefly concerned with the same thing as the flesh; it
considers only itself, respects others by accident, ordains them to
itself, and desires to reap from them a harvest of glory with which
to divert and flatter itself. It is, moreover, an easy descent from the
Flesh into the World: for it naturally happens that you assume a
sort and condition of life merely because it would please, gladden,
and divert you (or, as we say in current vernaculars, merely for your
contentment), and adhere to it long after you have exhausted the thrill
of such diversions in the course of time and use; and you will con-
tinue so to adhere to this condition of life, in case people should
say that you have chosen badly, in case they should say that you
are fickle and inconstant; and in order that you may recommend
your condition to others, the better to persuade them to join you in
it. And this is how one descends from the Flesh into the World. For
it is the distinguishing mark of the greater part of worldly men, that
when they feel themselves to be miserable, and others also (chiefly
the virtuous and discerning) understand it, they nevertheless try relent-
lessly to persuade us, and impose on us the belief that they are
happy. Haughty of bearing, pompous, and puffed-up, they want
everyone to know how well they are doing, how abundantly pro-
vided they are with the animal spirits with which like excellent instru-
ments we perform our natural functions. With sumptuous clothes
and furnishings, and display of their wealth and power, they want
everyone to know that they will always be able to provide for them-
selves in this way, even when those spirits have flowed out of their
122 ETHICS ‒ treatise iv
body and ebbed away. Under this I include also luxury, by which
they want everyone to know that they will always have not only
enough but more than enough. With their contempt and disdain for
others, they want everyone to know that they do not need the favour
of others, that they do not desire others’ care and assistance. With
their raised eyebrows, with their frowns and piercing eyes they want
everyone to know that they are free of care, and fear no man, and
that on the contrary it is they whom others should fear; and thus
with their whole demeanour, countenance, speech, and gesture mimic
happiness. But they are withal nothing but simple and rustic worldlings,
except that they stalk flattery for far longer, and pursue it with more
success—if you can call this success, and not rather servitude and
degradation.
Since the way that leads from the Flesh into the World is pre-
cipitous, it is not therefore easy to return from the World into the
Flesh. Worldly men rarely do anything merely because they find it
pleasant, or persevere with what they began to in order to impress
others, merely as a pleasure or pastime; as once, when Diogenes was
rolling naked in snow and slush, Plato told the onlookers (who out
of sympathy or some such popular sentiment wanted to stop him)
to disperse, avowing that Diogenes would desist of his own accord
as soon as they had dispersed.* And in our own time there are many
who free themselves from the Flesh (venery, gluttony, and devotion
to pleasures) through the World (Offices, public functions, and sta-
tus)—as if this were really to free oneself, viz. to exchange masters,
and in fact to labour under a worse tyranny.
We may easily gather from what has been said that the World is
held in the highest regard among youths and men; and for this rea-
son does not preoccupy as many as the flesh, albeit those with more
distinction. The World possesses the flower of mankind (of old times
think of the illustrious Romans, and men of a similar breed today);
in fact, what is most regrettable, the very ones who would be the
best of men if only they were not worldlings, if only they would do
for the sake of Reason and God alone the things they do in order
to capture the popular mood. And Cicero, the prophet of Glory,
that is, of the World, did not hesitate to assert: The best are motivated
* In Vitae Philosophorum VI, 41, Diogenes Laertius mentions only that people pitied
Diogenes because he had got soaking wet.
on the passions 123
chiefly by glory;* but he mistook, for such people are not virtuous, but
vain. As Scripture says, They have had their reward (a little popularity).†
O wretched reward!
§ 8. The Devil
The Devil, so far as he affects Ethics (and read, and devoutly believe
what Holy Scripture says of him), is the proclivity to persist in some kind
of action merely because you have begun to act in this way. That is, when
it is neither pleasure (as that is what we called the Flesh), nor Glory
or honour (as that is what we called the World) that keeps you to
a course of action once you have decided and determined on it, but
mere stubbornness; and when you persist in it only because you have
begun it, even though exhaustion, infamy, loss, poverty, and disease
may ensue. There is, moreover, an easy descent from the World to
the Devil. We observe what so often becomes of those who have
adopted some austere and harsh mode of life with a view to win-
ning a little glory and celebrity. When this vanity is spent, when
there is no more celebrity, no more popular admiration to be obtained,
and their extraordinary and affected actions earn only contempt and
derision, they are still not able to desist, but press on along a rugged
road and a stony path, because over a long period of time they have
become habituated to it. This is not because they think it wrong to
change course (to the extent that they are still motivated by such
corruption and infamy, they are still in thrall to the World), but, as
I said, because they have begun something from which they are
unable to desist.
The Devil possesses a great many of the old. In their youth, with
the Flesh and the World egging them on, they settled on a condi-
tion of life, and now stubbornly cling to the bulk of it; not because
it pleases or suits them, but because it is a habit, and because they
have long been accustomed to behave like this; and habit, like a sec-
ond nature, is difficult to break.
Thus, it is the Flesh that attacks and takes possession of most ado-
lescents, the World most men, and the Devil most old men. But
* Cicero, Oratio pro A. Licinio Archia Poeta, Chapter 11, § 29: ‘Nunc insidet quaedam
in optimo quoque virtus, quae noctes ac dies animum gloriae stimulis concitat.’
†
St. Matthew 6:2.
124 ETHICS ‒ treatise iv
even here the order may be inverted, with the World and the Flesh
being found in old men, and the Devil in adolescents; in fact, one
and the same man in the space of one brief hour can fall succes-
sively under the three tyrants, and be possessed first by the Flesh,
then by the World, and finally by the Devil. In the Cardinal Pleasures
(to use a figure of speech), such as venery and gluttony, the thing
is so obvious that anyone can observe it for himself. For example,
they begin to drink because the company is congenial and the drink
is to their taste (this is the Flesh in action); but carrying this pleasure
to excess, they do not stop drinking, because it is regarded as improper
to break off from company before others, but on the contrary it is
the thing to take as much as possible, and to excel the others in
drinking (this is the World in action). At last, even this limit having
been passed, when there is no more pleasure to be had, only dis-
gust, no more glory, but only the shame of drunkenness, vomiting,
and the trouble that they cause their host and his servants, and when
the derision and contempt of their companions makes itself felt, still
they continue to drink, so difficult is it to desist from what they have
begun (and this is the Devil in action).
It is clear from all this that firstly, among all the enemies of Virtue,
the Devil is the most abominable, the most horrible, full of anxiety,
exhaustion, and despair; for he is almost devoid of pleasure, either
real (for that proceeds from Virtue alone), or counterfeit and pre-
tended, as that comes from the Flesh and the World, which have
departed from him who is in thrall to the Devil. True, even in the
Devil there is a kind of pleasure, but a horrible, damnable, and
abominable pleasure. For since Reason does not dictate persisting in
what you have begun, when you persist merely because you have
begun, you must persist in the action which you have begun with
a certain relish, and because it pleases and agrees with you. You
see from this, incidentally, that the Flesh is also to be found in the
other enemies of Virtue, and that there are only two kinds of men:
one carnal, who acts out of pleasure and lust, and because it pleases
him; the other spiritual, because he is moved by spirit, mind and
Reason, and never acts because it is agreeable or because it pleases
him, but because it is the right thing to do, and therefore should
be done.
Secondly, it is clear that the Devil, inasmuch as it is his nature, is
everlasting. He who has given himself over to the Devil wants to
persist because he has begun; but this never ceases of its own accord:
he will always have begun, and so must necessarily always perse-
on the passions 125
vere, because for that reason alone he will judge that he must per-
severe with what he has begun. Here, by the way, we are struck by
an important difference between the Devil and the other enemies of
Virtue. For the pleasures that the Flesh envisages, and the pomps
that gladden the World, are altogether fleeting and transitory, and
after they have passed leave behind them only bitter regrets. Hence,
they allow a man to come to his senses after they have as it were
manumitted him, and released him from his servitude; which has no
place with the Devil, to whom servitude is by nature everlasting.
It is clear thirdly, that the cunning and resourcefulness of the Devil
are insidious, whereas the other enemies of Virtue meet us as if in
open array. For the Devil leads astray Philareti, or lovers of Virtue,
under the guise of promoting and making greater progress in Virtue,
forever urging them on, and continually repeating:
When fools flee from vices, they rush to the opposite extreme.†
The Flesh and the World never tempt us to do this. They may also
decoy lovers of Virtue, and lead them off the royal road of Virtue,
in fact sometimes even set them going in the opposite direction; but
for this very reason are less to be feared, because they confront us,
and meet us in open array; for those who are to be led away or
turned around must not be obstructed, or detained any longer on
the path of Virtue. They never assume the likeness of Virtue; they
know, and openly admit that Virtue does not agree with them; which
the Devil, as we saw, sometimes cunningly pretends, depicting him-
self as a cultivator and promoter of Virtue.
But against the deceits and seductions of the Devil, a remedy sup-
plied by the Oracle of Reason is to hand: Nothing in excess! ‡ It warns
* Quo bene coepisti, fac pede semper eas: slight variation on Ovid, Tristia I, 9, 66.
†
Dum cavent stulti vitia, in contraria currunt: variation on Horace, Saturae I, 2, 24.
‡
Ne quid nimis!: Latin phrase from the Greek Mêdèn ágan, which in ancient times
was inscribed on Apollo’s temple at Delphi along with Gnôthi seauton, for which see
126 ETHICS ‒ treatise iv
above, 8 and 31–32. The expression was often used to refer to the wisdom of Solon
and occurs in its Latin form in Terence, Andria, 61. Cf. Grynaeus, 513.
TREATISE V
INTRODUCTION
* Ipsa sibi merces rerum pulcherrima Virtus: a Latin expression for the idea that virtue
is its own reward—a notion widespread among the philosophers and poets of antiq-
uity. The poet here referred to must have been Silius Italicus, who gave a similar
expression of the adage in his Punica XIII, 663: ipsa quidem virtus sibimet pulcherrima
merces.
128 ETHICS ‒ treatise v
Friendship is nothing other than mutual love. And such love necessarily
passes between God and a virtuous man. For a virtuous man loves
God precisely by loving Reason and His law (Treatise III, § 8), and
therefore God necessarily loves Him in return. For only an utterly
base and corrupt man does not love him by whom he sees himself
to be truly and genuinely loved. Such baseness and corruption are
immeasurably distant from the Divine mind, which is of all beings
the most generous, and which accordingly can be loved by no-one
whom it does not love infinitely more in return.
I do not claim, however, that our love for God makes us deserve
to be loved by Him in return; I claim only that it is a quite cer-
tain and infallible argument that, if we love God, He in turn loves
us. It is quite certain, for that matter, that God first loves the vir-
tuous man, and that among the first effects of this love is the reci-
procal love of the virtuous man loving God in return, a love God
has instilled into him, and which alone makes him a virtuous man.
Even though there is a certain kind of Friendship or mutual love
between God and a virtuous man, it is not, however, a love that
has the same character on both sides. The virtuous man loves God
with Obedient Love, a love that does not mount as high as God
Himself (as He is so sublime and exalted that it cannot extend to
Him), but terminates and ceases in God’s Law, or Reason (as is
on the reward of virtue 129
clear from Treatise III, § 8 and elsewhere). God, on the other hand,
loves the virtuous man with Benevolent Love, a love by which He
wants to benefit him, and to bestow pleasant goods on him; and
this love not only extends and reaches as far as the virtuous man
himself, but seems not to stop there but to continue and extend fur-
ther into God Himself as End-for-which. For God ordains all things
to Himself, and makes all things for His own sake; which is lawful
and honourable for Him, but corrupt and improper for all of us, as
is clear from Treatise I, The Adminicle of Humility. That these loves
are respectively such as I have described them, namely, the Obedient
Love of God by the virtuous man, and God’s Benevolent love of
the virtuous man, and that there can be no other kinds of love
between them, is abundantly clear from the nature of love and of
its various kinds; as I showed in Treatise I, Chapter I near the begin-
ning, and also in Treatise I, at the end of The Fruit of Humility.
Happiness
anyone. For there is nothing that can stand in its way. He who
wishes him well is omnipotent; because He has wished him well, He
will act well; He has wished him immensely well, in fact as much
as God could do; He will therefore confer immense benefits, in fact
as much as God will be able to do.
This happiness of the virtuous man is demonstrated also from the
idea of happiness: for he is happy for whom nothing happens to which he
is not minded; and the mindedness, or intention, of the virtuous man
is nothing other than to do what Reason dictates (and if he is oth-
erwise minded, if he has any other intention whatsoever, he is not
a virtuous man), and nothing contrary to such mindedness can ever
befall the virtuous man, as I inferred at somewhat greater length in
Treatise I, The Fruit of Obedience, where I demonstrated conclu-
sively that freedom, which constitutes the middle part of happiness,
necessarily accompanies the virtuous man, and can never be sepa-
rated from him so long as he remains virtuous. For happiness com-
prises two parts, namely, to do nothing to which he is not minded, or to
do nothing unwillingly (in which part freedom consists), and to suffer
nothing to which he not minded (in which consists the second part of
happiness, which here is opposed to freedom in general, and may
be called happiness in the strict sense). Therefore, whatever the virtuous
man does, he does willingly, since nothing is at liberty to act on
him apart from what Reason dictates is to be done. Whatever he
suffers, he suffers willingly, since in Passion, as such (and considered
only in itself ), there is nothing contrary to Reason, and accordingly
neither is there anything to which he is not minded. And these two
demonstrations are so striking that nothing can obscure them, as
long as we keep our eyes fixed on the force of the argument, as
long as we do not turn our mind away from its logic. But as we
are quite prone not to attend to, or rather to retreat from that argu-
ment into the prejudices of our senses, what has just been demon-
strated may soon begin to seem to us very paradoxical, often even
ridiculous and inept. We see virtuous men afflicted by a host of trou-
bles, poverty-stricken, often suffering from the disgrace of these, and
from disease, tormented by the savagery and cruelty of other men,
and, one could say, dying a thousand deaths. But if we call to mind
the foregoing demonstrations, and leave behind the prejudices of our
senses, we see clearly that when they happen to the virtuous man
they are not calamities. Are not such things sent to him by God?
It has been shown conclusively that men have no say in the mat-
on the reward of virtue 131
* Phalaris, the tyrant of Agrigentum (6th Century B.C.), is reported to have been
in the possession of a torture instrument in the form of a brazen bull designed for
roasting people alive.
132 ETHICS ‒ treatise v
contrary goods not really good, but merely to be preferred. But they
are seriously mistaken, as Cicero rightly observes in his treatise On
Ends.* I say, therefore, that the virtuous man neither prefers nor
puts aside anything, but leaves it in the balance, and cares only for
what Reason dictates; and that when God permits such things to
happen they are to be borne, not resisted or fought, and that none
of them is to be chosen or preferred before another. For no choice
is left to us: our lot† is prescribed for us down to the minutest detail,
and enforced with the utmost rigour.
Peace
they discharge their anger and lash out, their anger is appeased; and
their fear is stilled when they flee. But if we go on to examine the
mind subsequently, we find that none of these Passions has been
assuaged, diminished, and calmed by compliance, but that on the
contrary they have been intensified, increased, and exacerbated. If
a man weeps and sighs overmuch, at length he becomes lachrymose
and querulous from little or no cause; if someone lashes out over-
much, and unremittingly avenges himself of his injuries, at length
he blazes up and rages on the slightest pretext; and so on for other
Passions.
But against this, the man who does not yield to his Passions but
resists them, only arouses and provokes them all the more, and as
a result magnifies and reinforces them (as we also saw above in
Treatise IV, The Philosophic Life).
Consequently, to these flames (I mean Passions) compliance is like
oil, while resisting them is like blowing upon them; in both cases
they are magnified and increased. Virtuous men alone (whom I
described in Treatise IV, The Christian Life), remain to rise hap-
pily above their Passions; not that they want to rise directly above
them (for what would this be but to seek peace and rest, and openly
to depart from the canons of Humility?), but listening to Reason,
they neither comply with nor resist their Passions. Hence, they deprive
them of nourishment (that is, compliance), and keep away the breeze
and every kind of irritant (that is, they do not resist their Passions).
What then is left for their Passions but to die away quickly in them?
With the death of the Passions there arises in the virtuous man a
certain lofty repose of mind and a profound silence. For Passions
are like unruly and mettlesome boys, tearing about the academy of
the mind, causing an uproar, and hindering the mind’s attention to
Reason, in which we have placed the nature of diligence. These
being extinguished in the virtuous man, he remains in a state of
exalted silence; with nothing hindering him, wholly focused on Reason,
and seeing clearly what it says, he is rendered wise; of which I spoke
in Treatise I, The Fruit of Diligence.
134 ETHICS ‒ treatise v
But, Wisdom in the mouth of the wise bringeth forth instruction; and in
the case of the virtuous man it comes readily into his mouth. For
it is very well known that what we understand rightly, and have
weighed very carefully in our mind, we are able successfully to sow
in the understanding of others. The Poet evidently also understood
this:
Discipline is nothing other than wisdom instilled into the mind of others
through instruction. For we are so formed by nature that what the wise
man has attained by daily contemplation of eternal truths, and acute
attention to Reason, he can communicate to others through instruc-
tion; and things communicated in this way may be grasped far more
easily by others, and understood in a shorter time than if they had
had to elicit them by effort and study, and by their diligence in
attending to Reason. Thus, we see that things can be imparted within
a few months or years in philosophical speculations as well as in
(and even in) the practices of the mechanical arts by a wise man or
craftsman that have been revealed and discovered by the lucubra-
tion and study of many years in such a way that they can easily be
learned, grasped, and understood by others (who are accordingly
called their disciples). Inasmuch as wisdom instilled into the minds of
others by a teacher still depends on his direction, and needs to be
fostered, and as it were led by the hand, it is called discipline. But
in due course, learning comes also to the disciples, when through their
own efforts, study, and contemplation and attention to Reason, they
are able to achieve such things as once they achieved only with the
help of a teacher. Then, the more often they ruminate on them,
and turn them over in their minds, the nearer they come to the
stage when they too can bring their wisdom into their mouths and
utter it; and now they too are worthy to beget disciples of their own.
Dignity
other. From this definition it is clear that among the greater part of
humanity the virtuous man is the most worthy of such reverence.
Secondly, because the virtuous man is wise, he is the most wor-
thy of government; for no-one is better fitted to rule over others
than he who is wiser than others. And this is the origin of the say-
ing: The wise man is a king by nature,* and that divine mantra of Plato:
Blessed the land where Philosophers rule, or kings philosophise.†
Thirdly, because the virtuous man is also learned, he therefore also
deserves praise and admiration; for men are wont to admire and
bestow praises on nothing so much as on discourse that elegantly
and limpidly unfolds the arcana of Nature and Reason.
Fourthly, because he is not only learned, but also a teacher, and
able to train disciples, he is also worthy of glory. For Glory is the
acknowledgement, expressed with great and unmistakable signs, that
we give to another in token of something important and of extra-
ordinary service and benefit to us. Hence, it is nothing but a signal
and conspicuous act of gratitude, which the virtuous man undoubt-
edly merits in the highest degree, inasmuch as he is someone who
deserves the best of everyone, being concerned with example and
instruction to make them like himself, that is, virtuous men also,
than which no greater benefit can be conceived.
To the foregoing dignities of which the virtuous man is worthy
(love, honour, reverence, government, praise, admiration, and glory)
are added not so much another dignity, but rather a certain nature:
for he abounds by nature in indescribable pleasures, and joys that
the human mind can scarcely grasp. That is, he is properly speak-
ing not so much worthy of these joys (though he is worthy) as well
and truly born to these joys, and he tastes this Reward not so much
as something of which he is worthy but as a natural thing. I mean
that the virtuous man is born to these joys; both because virtue itself
naturally engenders them, and because the consideration of his
Rewards, which I have in part reviewed, and by which the virtuous
man sees himself marked out (for it is impossible that he should not
sometimes see them, and be astounded by the admiration that they
* Sapiens naturâ rex est: Latin saying comparable to those mentioned in Grynaeus,
28: Rex eris, si recte facies; 608: Fortunatus sapiens; and 610: Sapiens à seipso pendet. These
sayings, however, reflect the freedom of self-government, not the rule over others.
See also Horace, Saturae II, 7, 83.
†
Plato, Politeia, 473 c–473 d.
on the reward of virtue 137
incur), naturally inspires them. For the virtuous man, even while
doing something else, nevertheless often meets his Rewards, and in
some way, willingly or unwillingly, is moved to recognise them; and
from this recognition derives incredible joy, and exultation of mind.
* Idem velle atque idem nolle, ea demum perfecta Amicitia est: the line actually occurs in
Sallust, Bellum Catilinae, 20, 4: nam idem velle atque idem nolle, ea demum firma amicitia est.
on the reward of virtue 139
so, for both of them, that one and only thing is the common prin-
ciple of their several devotions. It follows that virtuous men choose
and want for each other the supreme good, that is, what they desire
most ardently, and with mutual and most ardent devotion; but what
is this but to wish one another well in the highest degree, what is
this but to love one another most ardently? It should be noted that
virtuous men want obedience to God and Reason to be displayed
not only by themselves, but also, in proportion to how much it is
incumbent upon them, and is vouchsafed to them, to be displayed
by others, and as well and as perfectly by others as by themselves.
For since they are humble, they are not busied with themselves and
their own welfare, and therefore they are neither busied with nor
value Virtue itself (a fact of which the Ancients were profoundly
ignorant) insofar as it is a good for themselves. This can be gath-
ered fairly well from what I have said, especially where I treated
intemperance as directed towards the last class of favourable things.
Hence, virtuous men want as much obedience to be displayed to
God and Reason, whether by themselves or by others, as there is
in themselves, and is incumbent on themselves.
There is also an accidental kind of mutual love that passes only
between virtuous men, which consists in the accidental Rewards of
Virtue that virtuous men afford one another; and it is this kind
of Friendship, accidental as it is, and so also an accidental Reward
of Virtue, that we must now discuss.
the mind and intention of men, on which all virtue depends, are
not in themselves apparent, but often can be perceived only by con-
jecture from the means that are outwardly applied to the end that
they have set themselves to pursue; and these means are often quite
ambiguous, for virtuous men differ enormously from vicious men in
intention, and in how they are minded, while in respect of external
actions they often differ little, as can be seen in Treatise I, espe-
cially The Sixth Obligation.
Accidental Rewards of Virtue are sometimes twisted, and as it
were deflected onto men of no virtue (for they too are often honoured,
and rule, and so on), for whom properly speaking there are neither
Rewards nor goods, because such things do not square with them.
They are not worthy of them; but all the goodness and pleasure,
the whole reason of those Rewards, depend on dignity and propriety;
for what good does it do you to be honoured when you know your-
self not to be worthy of honour? This is not to be honoured, but
rather to be made sport of, and ridiculed. Or if the honour, that is,
the honour of being esteemed a virtuous man, is conferred on you
out of the ignorance of others, it does you no honour, but falls on
another person, the one whom they had believed you to personify.
Virtue itself
Now that the virtuous man, at last quite peaceful and calm, quite
free from the turmoil of his passions, is wholly open to Reason, and
accordingly is prepared for wisdom, learning, and disciples, love
towards Reason grows exceedingly in him out of the acute and assid-
uous contemplation of Reason and Divine Law. For Reason is so
fair and heavenly that (as the saying goes which is normally applied
to the arts and sciences) one’s only enemies are the ignorant.* And this
love of Reason in turn is Virtue again (as is obvious from the definition
of Virtue), and Virtue itself is also among its own Rewards, and
indeed the fairest and greatest Reward of Virtue; and is its own
wages, as the Poet also realised, when he said:
* Neminem [habet] inimicum nisi ignorantem: variation on the Latin aphorism Ignorantia
scientiae inimica. Cf. Grynaeus, 304.
142 ETHICS ‒ treatise v
Thus one is borne upon a heavenly and timeless circle from Virtue
into Virtue. Happy he who has enclosed himself and all his desires
within this circle, and who in consequence wishes to be virtuous so
much that he becomes ever more and more virtuous.
There is not a single penalty, but many; all of which I shall touch
upon quickly and briefly in this Section.
Sin being nothing but self-love, it follows that there first arises in
vicious men a diligent attention to their conveniences and pleasures, and to
the means by which these things can be obtained; and such care of
this world (as Christians term it) is the counterpart of Diligence; for
just as Diligence is the eldest daughter of Virtue, so Care is the
eldest daughter of Sin. And it is accompanied by great sadness and
anxiety. The Sadness arises from how much they seem to fall short
of their good (that is, themselves), which they love exclusively and
at such expense; and the Anxiety from how difficult it seems to fill
the gap left by all the things by which they fall short, and because
they are at such pains to fulfil their desires. They learn from expe-
rience, and from their very sensations (as they do not pay much
attention to Reason), that the more they have the more they desire;
and that as a result they are always in want and poverty-stricken,
no matter what circumstances they happen to find themselves in.
From care, like the fruit of an ill vine, are born cunning, cleverness,
and resourcefulness (which Christians call the prudence of this world ),
which consist in the perception and understanding of how to obtain
their conveniences and pleasures.
Next arises that servitude (the counterpart of Obedience among
the daughters of Virtue) with which vicious men are enslaved to
themselves as they pursue all the things that their resourcefulness
has taught them tend to their convenience. The bitterest fruits of
this are the endless tedium, calamities, vileness, and slavishness to
which they must needs subject themselves in their self-serving course,
* Dum fueris felix, multos numerabis amicos/Tempora cum fuerint nubila, nullus erit: vari-
ation on Ovid, Tristia I, 9, 5–6, donec eris sospes [ felix], multos numerabis amicos/tem-
pora si fuerint nubila, solus eris. Cf. Grynaeus, 46: Felicitas multos habet amicos.
144 ETHICS ‒ treatise v
They are mutual with him, are close at hand, and will help him,
for as long as this mutuality pays dividends (as they say); but with
this cause removed, they disperse, leaving each other in dire calami-
ties and extreme anxieties.
But you will say: even virtuous men sometimes desert each other,
when either they cannot help, or even believe, out of invincible igno-
rance, that they ought not to help them. I reply: virtuous men prop-
erly speaking never desert each other, but are always closely joined,
now in spiritual concourse, now also in mutual love, as is clear
enough from what I said concerning Friendship. Virtuous men nev-
ertheless sometimes desert each other in an accidental sense, namely,
when it comes to the outward Offices and the accidental Rewards
of Virtue; but this does not merit consideration when we reflect on
that bond between them, which is essential. And it is true that vicious
men also sometimes desert each other merely accidentally; but it is
worthy of note that neither will they have been essentially joined.
Since each of them loves only himself, they are and always were
deserted and abandoned by each another, without any true con-
junction and consensus of minds; they usually conspire only over
means, a conspiracy that I called an accidental connection when I dealt
with Friendship. It is therefore not to be wondered at if vicious men
are so struck and alarmed when they see that that accidental con-
nection has been dissolved, because they have no other connection
with each other, no Friendship, not even with God (as that is the
first and proper Reward of Virtue alone); and in such a case see
themselves cut off as if by a single blow, and deserted by everyone.
But virtuous men are not greatly afflicted, even though they too may
often see themselves accidentally deserted, even by virtuous men; for
they readily see that they remain closely joined with their God, whose
intimate friends they are. Then they see also that with those by
whom they seem to be deserted there remains that essential con-
nection which consists in the perfect concourse of minds, perfect
agreement, and the most fervent mutual love; and that this cannot
be lost as long as virtuous men are virtuous.
After servitude, narrow-mindedness, and desertion there arises from
sin its most disgraceful daughter, arrogance, which is nothing other
than contempt of Reason; so that sin is in its order perverse, and pre-
posterous. For Virtue, which alone is in order, begins from love of
God or Reason, and terminates and is consummated in contempt
of oneself; but sin begins in reverse order from love of oneself, and
on the reward of virtue 145
to sheer insanity. These things do not, they say (as the current phrase
has it) earn one’s crust; they don’t keep the home-fires burning.*
As for Justice, vicious men take it for futility, triviality, and mis-
ery. And since Justice satisfies only God and Reason, it is hardly
enough for vicious men.
Finally, it is Humility alone which they sometimes marvel at in vir-
tuous men. Their hypocrisy has its origin here; for almost all vicious
men, when they are selling themselves to others behind a mask of
Virtue, begin by pretending humility. For this reason, humility some-
times renders virtuous men safe among vicious men; for they who
neglect their own interests and serve only God and Reason do not
stand in the way of those who want to grab everything for them-
selves. From this it also comes about that vicious men, in order to
protect themselves from each other’s frauds, plunders, and violence,
may pretend to be humble, and that they have no thought for their
own interests, but have time only for God and Reason; hoping in
this way to avoid each other’s traps (and often enough do safely
avoid them).
However, because the humble man neglects his own interests in
order that he may continue to obey God and Reason, which often
enjoin him to aspire to the dignity and the wealth that vicious men
seek for themselves, it often happens that virtuous men and vicious
men are competitors and co-rivals, that is, they pursue and solicit
the same things, no doubt with quite diverse intentions, but never-
theless the same things. It is then that virtuous men are held by
vicious men in the most intense loathing. They had thought, and
brought themselves to believe that virtuous men must be content
with their God and their Reason (and virtuous men are indeed so
content, and willingly yield to others unless God commands other-
wise), and that they must be given no right to the things of this
world, must be excluded from dignities and public duties, and barred
from wealth and honours. This is why vicious men take the virtu-
ous man far more badly as a competitor than as one with some
degree of likeness to themselves, that is, vicious.
As for the Rewards of Virtue, it is notorious that they arouse the
most monstrous envy in vicious men, though the fairest of these
* Non sunt haec de pane lucrando; His caminus non fumat: expressions also familiar in
Dutch: ‘Daar valt geen droog brood mee te verdienen’; ‘Daar kan de schoorsteen
niet van roken.’
on the reward of virtue 147
Rewards are also those which are concealed from vicious men; and
especially, the Friendship that holds between God and the virtuous
man, which they ridicule and scoff at, as a melancholic and silly
fiction. But when they espy some of the external fruits of this
Friendship, and how things go so well with virtuous men, so much
so that with all their frauds, tricks, and artfulness, with all their sav-
agery and power, vicious men are unable to achieve or outdo them—
then they explode with rage, belching out curses not only against
virtuous men, but sometimes (terrible to relate) even against Him
who watches over virtuous men, that is, God. For they take noth-
ing so badly, nothing with more sense of indignation, than when
humble men, while taking no thought for themselves, do so well,
and act in their own interests; just as if they had done the one thing
that of course they never do, that is, consider their own interests
above everything. Thus, they are sometimes given to saying that
the stupid and the lucky have no need of wisdom;* perversely conceiving
wisdom to be nothing but their own cunning and tricks, with which
they represent and market themselves as wise men.
As for Peace with the Passions, that is, the tranquillity of virtuous
men, to vicious men it seems superficially attractive and pleasant
enough; and so they regard it as an accomplishment to have it as
well. But finding themselves so utterly lacking in it, they simulate it
with the loftiest pretence and hypocrisy. As a result you come across
some of them who are veritable apes of the most patient and mod-
est men.
As for Wisdom, I have already spoken of it; vicious men hold it
to be stupidity. But they hate worst of all in virtuous men their
teaching, especially when they see themselves painted by them to the
life, and all their perversities and calamities delineated in their true
colours, and described so graphically; which many virtuous men do
with such skill that they seem godlike, looking into their intimate
thoughts, and penetrating and invading the miseries that vicious men
conceal with such lofty pretence (as you can see in part in the sub-
section where I spoke of the World). So it is also, that when virtu-
ous men speak of generalities in their teaching (for their learning and
knowledge are of universals, not of singulars, as the Scholastics were
fond of saying, and rightly), they expound the matter in such a lively
* Stolidis et felicibus nihil opus est sapientiâ: Latin saying of unknown origin.
148 ETHICS ‒ treatise v
fashion, and hit the nail so squarely on the head (so to speak), that
vicious men who happen to overhear them think that they them-
selves are being singled out and analysed. This exasperates them so
greatly that they will often conspire in the death of virtuous men.
Christians have called this kind of death martyrdom, and commemo-
rate how it has befallen so many virtuous men on account of their
teaching.
Vicious men also despise the dignity of virtuous men, but yet prize
the Effects of this dignity, that is, the accidental Rewards of Virtue,
and generally want to claim them for themselves. They do not want
to be honourable, but to be honoured; not to be regal, but to be kings
and tyrants; not to be praiseworthy, but praised; and lastly, not to be
worthy of pleasures, or to be like those who are shaped by nature
for pleasures, but simply to have pleasures. From all this it is very
clear that inwardly they neglect God, Essence, Nature, and Dignity,
and adhere only to accidents and contingencies, and are wholly taken
up with them; which constitutes their vanity, as Christians know well.
And because these accidental Rewards cannot, without Virtue, be
had in their genuine and pure form, vicious men are all more or
less hypocrites; and just as they have only the appearance of Virtue,
not Virtue itself, so also they have only the appearance or shadow
of this or that Reward of Virtue, while never attaining the actual
Reward. For the Honour (to take one example to stand as a model
for all) displayed by vicious men is extorted by force, got up by
flattery, or granted out of ignorance; and who does not see that
there is no honour in such honours? For what is granted through
ignorance—when, that is, vicious men are adjudged virtuous—can
indeed be true honour, but it will fall not on them, but on the per-
son deemed worthy of it, that is, on the person of a virtuous man;
and what is made up by adulation is made up indeed, and no more
touches on true honour than what a crowd of attendants and gen-
tlemen accords a stage tyrant in the theatre. Lastly, what is extorted
by force is worth no more than any other contract that is extorted
by threats: it is as null by law as by the light of nature. And in gen-
eral, everyone understands quite clearly that a testimonial that we
may give to a robber holding us at knifepoint in the forest is no tes-
timony, and cannot be of any use to him anywhere else, even if it
testifies a thousandfold that he is a virtuous man. The same applies
equally to government, pleasure, and the other accidental Rewards
on the reward of virtue 149
ON PRUDENCE
INTRODUCTION
§ 1. Circumspection
1. Who?
2. What?
This particle designates the action to be performed, and also the outcome
that the action presupposes; for example, whether to go for a walk,
on prudence 153
3. Where?
This particle designates the place and the persons surrounding the action;
whether, that is, the action is done in private or in public, whether
with others, or in the absence of a witness, whether among the
learned and intelligent, or whether among idiots and savages. And
it is quite clear that the action may be in some persons lawful and
praiseworthy, in others unlawful and blameworthy. Thus, for exam-
ple, to discuss the profound and subtle questions arising from
Metaphysics and Ethics with the vulgar may be dangerous, and even
not without vice; but with virtuous and wise men wholly justified,
and exceedingly useful. If you assert that it is a sin to do anything
violent if you are moved solely by mercy and compassion, it sounds
bad to the vulgar, but those who are acquainted with true Ethics
have no difficulty with it. They recognise that what is to be done
rightly must be done out of Reason, and that whatever is done out
of Passion is viciously done.
The maxim here is: Thou, O God, seest all things; whereby we are
admonished that God, in whatever place we act, is always watching
us with His mind’s eye. We never withdraw so far from all others
that we might flee from God; we are never so covert and concealed
that we are not bare and open to His eyes; for nothing is hidden
from Him who by His essence and nature is omniscient. Therefore,
it should seem to us to be foolish to think to hide ourselves by fleeing
from human eyes while remaining exposed to divine eyes.
We must take care to get things right here, in case our wish to
act according to this maxim should lead us to act out of fear, or
some similar emotion, such as fear of somehow bringing upon our-
selves retribution for our sins. Hence, we must abstain from sins,
but in such a way that, having Him continually before our eyes, we
do not forget the law that He has given us, and always obey it.
Beware also lest we allow men to take the place of God with us, or
some man to be thrust upon us whom we must always keep before
154 ETHICS ‒ treatise vi
This particle designates the means that we apply to the end. And the
means, if they are good in themselves, will nevertheless not thereby
be absolutely good unless our intention and end are also good. On
the contrary, if the means are bad, they do not thereby become
good just because the end is good. For example, to give alms to the
poor is good in itself, but to give alms to the poor in order that
you may suborn them into accusing or killing an innocent man is
bad. On the other hand, while it is good to save one’s life, to slay
an innocent man (for example, at the instigation of a tyrant who
threatens you with death unless you slay the innocent man) in order
to save your own life is bad. As an axiom of Ethics has it: an evil
means pollutes the best of ends, and the best of ends does not purify an evil
means.‡ The example just cited makes both parts of the maxim clear,
* The Epicurus fragment is in fact known only from Seneca’s text. Cf. Epistulae
Morales ad Lucilium, Epistle 11, § 8.
†
Seneca, Epistulae Morales ad Lucilium, Epistle 25, § 5.
‡
Malum medium inquinat optimum finum, et optimus finis non expurgat malum medium:
Scholastic expression of unknown origin.
on prudence 155
but they can also be expressed in this way: Evil things should not be
done in order that good things may come of them; and good things that are done
in order that evil things may come of them are not good things.*
The maxim here is: Great oaks from little acorns grow—whereby we
are counselled not to be ashamed of means that are low and of lit-
tle or no importance, if ends of the highest importance depend on
them. For example, one brief hour, even a quarter of an hour each
day, is of great importance in Ethical matters, and most of all in
the Inspection of Oneself, though it may seem of light and small
moment; for in it we may pursue that most excellent of ends, namely,
Virtue and Wisdom. Similarly, even though it might appear a base
and trifling thing, if you devote just a little of each day to the study
of Logic you will soon attain that perfect fluidity and adaptability
of mind necessary for the acquisition of human knowledge.
This maxim is valid also in evil matters; for from the most venial
sins, when they are dismissed as of no importance, one ascends eas-
ily to the summit of wickedness, like that thief in Aesop’s Fables,
who, when about to receive the supreme measure of punishment,
pretending to kiss his mother as if offering her a last Farewell bit
off her nose, adding this saying: If, when as a boy I first stole a book
from my schoolmate, you had punished me as I deserved, I would not have come
to this pass.† Thus, one should never heedlessly allow what has even
the slightest aspect of evil.
So also, starting from Logical errors that seem quite light, the
observance of which hardly seems worth the effort, men fall into the
most serious errors, heresies, and impieties, in both Physics and
Metaphysics; as is clear, for example, from that faulty definition of
Body, from which alone there arises confusion of spiritual with mate-
rial things, a confusion that is the surest source of every kind of
impiety. (See my Metaphysics, Part 2.‡)
* Non sunt facienda mala ut eveniant bona; et non sunt bona, quae fiunt ut inde eveniant
mala: Scholastic maxim expressing the view of St. Paul in Romans 3: 8.
†
Aesop, Fabulae, Fable 30, ‘Mother and Son’ or ‘The Young Thief and his
Mother.’
‡
Though Metaphysica Vera, Part 2, discusses Body, the confusion of spiritual and
material things seems to be a subject dealt with only in “Scientiae” 5 and 6 of
Part 1 and corresponding Annotations. Cf. Opera II, 150–152 and 268–269/Metaphysics,
34–38.
156 ETHICS ‒ treatise vi
5. Why?
Why denotes the end that is incumbent upon us; and this end is to obey
God and Reason, which is clear enough from what has been said
many times before.
The maxim here is: Do what you undertake. We are said to do this,
and also to do what we undertake, when we do just as much as the
end requires. When we do something extra, something that does not
serve the end that is incumbent upon us, we are then said to do
something else. For example, so long as a traveller hastens and con-
tinues straight on without interruption to the place to which he is
making his journey, he undertakes the journey, and does what he under-
takes; but if, detained by the charms of the meadows along the way-
side, the pleasures of the byways, or the tales of wayfarers, he lingers
in the way and suspends the journey that he has undertaken, then
he does something else.
The maxim therefore counsels us to measure our means accord-
ing to the end, and to occupy ourselves with them only in propor-
tion to how much they do to further the end, neither more nor less.
For example, God has ordered us to live; do you want to obey Him?
If so, you should want to live only as much as He has ordered, nei-
ther more nor less; and so, if adversity should assail you, not depart
unbidden by Him. If death creeps up on you, do not desire a longer
life. And because you want to live, do you not also want to eat?
Eat, therefore, and drink, but only in proportion to what is neces-
sary for life. And because you want to eat and drink, will you not
pursue a condition of life that procures food and drink? But pursue
it only so far as is necessary to those things: let not ambition impel
you towards a greater condition, nor cowardice towards a lesser con-
dition. Do you not want to refresh your mind so that it is equal to
its Office? Refresh it in proportion to how much is required for it
to be equal, lest luxury make you dissolute, or a scrupulous and per-
verse austerity oppress you.
The maxim thus recommends to you a certain kind of justice,
which consists in proportioning the means to the end, in order that
there should never be present in the means anything more or less
than the end requires. For means frequently have a capacity to divert
us from the contemplation of the end, and detain us in contempla-
tion of themselves; indeed, so much so as to divest themselves of the
character of means and endow themselves with the character of an
on prudence 157
end, immediately leading us towards the sin of those who invert the
order of things, and make an end out of what should have been
the means. It is just like the way we prefer to go on living when
on the point of death: we do not then have the law of God as our
Obedient End, rather we ourselves are our own Concupiscent End; that
is, we are the End-for-which, and our life is the End-of-which. Similarly,
when we indulge in eating more than is required for life, we do not
have life as our subordinate end (as should be the case), rather we have
the pleasure to be obtained from eating as our ultimate end. And if
we would like a more luxurious condition of life than suffices to sus-
tain life, we do not then have eating as our subordinate end (as should
be the case), rather we have as our ultimate end a pleasure in worldly
things obtained from status and display. And if we would like to
refresh and restore ourselves more fully than is necessary to replen-
ish our flesh, then we do not have as our subordinate end the correct
performance of our Office, rather we have the very pleasure of
refreshing and restoring ourselves as our ultimate End-of-which.
6. How?
* Serio et Sincere: Note that Geulincx carried Serio et Candide as his personal motto.
Cf. Jean Noël Paquot, Memoires pour servir a l’histoire litteraire des dix-sept provinces des
Pays-Bas, de la principauté de Liege, et de quelque contrées voisines, vol. 13, Leuven: De
l’imprimerie academique, 1768, 72. The motto was reproduced on the titlepage of
the Antwerp edition of Geulincx’ Questiones quodlibeticae in utramque partem disputatae
(1653). Cf. Victor Vander Haeghen, Geulincx. Étude sur sa vie, sa philosophie et ses
ouvrages, Gent: Eug. Vanderhaeghen, 1886, 5, note 9.
158 ETHICS ‒ treatise vi
Obligation, is not then to joke, laugh, or play, but to follow the law
of God as seriously and wholeheartedly as possible.
Every action of the virtuous man must also be done sincerely, that
is, not displayed outwardly otherwise than as inwardly conceived by
him. For there is no reason why he should pretend anything, see-
ing that what he does is the best; nor does he need to study to
please men, but only to obey God and Reason. Nevertheless, there
is sometimes a need for discretion: even though the virtuous man
pretends nothing, he conceals certain things and expresses them by
silence; even though he never consents to the wickedness of others,
he sometimes does not reprove it, or oppose it either in word nor
deed. In this case, the virtuous man seems to those who are more
imprudent to act in a feigned manner, and with pretence; but they
err, for it is one thing to hide the truth, another to lie; and again,
it is one thing to co-operate with someone’s wickedness, another not
to oppose it, as we shall see a little later when we come to deal
with Discretion.
7. When?
§ 2. Providence
§ 3. Discretion
not slay himself, but flees from the blaze. Nevertheless, he permits
himself to be slain when he is dashed to pieces on the ground below
by his own weight.
In this way it is also easily resolved whether one who is put to
the question on account of a false accusation could take the guilt
upon himself and confess himself a party to the crime in order to
spare himself the torment of the question. And it is certain that it
is not right; for the means (the confession of a crime) does not serve
for a good end (sparing himself torture) independently of the evil
end (the death penalty) that a judge will exact on the party who
confesses, though innocent.
And again, is it right for the crew of a man-o’-war to blow up
the powder magazine in case the ship should fall into the hands of
the enemy? In general it is not right; for though such a means may
serve for a good end prior to an evil end, that is, keeping the ship
out of the hands of the enemy is prior to the death of the crew, it
is nevertheless hardly ever the case that a sufficiently grave and pro-
portionate cause is present, for it is not too great a cost for one ship
and a certain number of men to fall into the hands of the enemy.
Add to which that, even if the enemy happen to be savage, they
are still men, and not driven to act with such brutality and with
such necessity as are the stones, the street, or the ground that dash
to pieces a man leaping from a tower. Hence, some mercy can rea-
sonably be hoped for from them.
Secondly, Discretion is concerned also with matters that some-
times both fall under the law, and are interdicted by Reason, but
at other times are left undecided. For example, it is wrong to steal;
but in extreme necessity it is not wrong to take whatever is sufficient
to alleviate that necessity. Accordingly, someone who in extreme
hunger takes a loaf of bread from a baker does not sin, and is not
properly speaking a thief; for to steal is to take a thing that belongs
to someone else, but in this case it is not a thing belonging to some-
one else, but a shared thing. For the division of goods among men
is not so rigidly enforced, and could not by men be so rigidly enforced,
that in extreme necessity all goods might not be regarded as com-
mon again, and in just that measure required for the relief of that
necessity. But where the necessity of each party is equal, it will not
be right to take it; for discretion dictates that in this case the claim
of the one who is in possession is the stronger. Thus, in a common
shipwreck, it is not right to force off a plank someone who is clinging
162 ETHICS ‒ treatise vi
to it, so that you who are not in possession of the plank may save
yourself.
§ 4. Ignorance
* Homo ergo est, et nihil humani a se alienum putat: variation on Terence, Heautonti-
morumenos, 77.
on prudence 163
To Treatise I. Preface.
1. The Cardinal Virtues are those virtues which are a necessary
concomitant to every exercise of Virtue, so that no work that is
deficient in some of them can be done well and in accordance with
Reason. And they are these four: Diligence (or listening to Reason),
Obedience (or following Reason), Justice (or proportion to Reason), and
finally, Humility (or not having a care of oneself ). For if a work is
to be done well and in accordance with Reason, we must listen to
what Reason dictates (for otherwise we would be doing good by
accident; but to do good by accident is absolutely to do evil, as will
become clear in Treatise VI, On Prudence); we must follow what
Reason dictates (for if we do not follow what Reason dictates, but
what Passion urges, our work will not be good); we must propor-
tion our work to Reason, that is, do neither more nor less than
Reason dictates (for if we do either more or less, we do not follow
what Reason dictates); and finally, we must not be led by care of
ourselves (for if we have care of ourselves, we do not what Reason
dictates but what Self-Love dictates, that is, what love of oneself
dictates).
2. Even the Pagans gave due recognition to the first three Cardinal
Virtues. For Plato, Aristotle, and others taught plainly enough that
one must listen to Reason, do what Reason dictates, and do it exactly
(in which points Diligence, Obedience, and Justice are covered). This is
well-known. But they were abysmally ignorant of the fourth, or Prince
among Cardinal Virtues, namely, Humility. The reason for their igno-
rance was this: that they directed the whole of Ethics and every kind
of behaviour towards some utility, either their own, or (displaying
more elevated wisdom) of their native country, or even of human
society in general. Epicurus was numbered among the former, Aristotle
and Plato obviously among the latter; but in this they were very
much mistaken. For since Reason, which we love through Virtue, is
a law that has been given to us in particular and to the human race
in general, it is by its very nature not something intended to be of
benefit to us, nor does it regard our utility and convenience (for if
so it would be a privilege rather than a law). In fact, if Reason,
168 annotations to the ETHICS
2. This, by the way, shows us how miserable are those men who
are envious of others, revile others, or are given to hating them in
some way. They deny themselves what is the most joyful thing in
life, to love. And there is no difficulty at all in loving everyone, who-
ever they are, even if we do not approve of their vices. Some have
alleged the existence of antipathies, that is, natural differences or repug-
nances, as the Poet says:
But these are surely just untenable, over-subtle, fantastic, and imag-
inative dreams, easily disposed of by the contrary power and usage
of right Reason. There is nothing that more becomes a wise man
than to be what Aristotle says of himself, a philanthropist, that is, a
lover of humanity, averse to no-one, embracing everyone.†
3. Desire is nothing other than love of something absent; and it there-
fore contains in itself both tenderness (love), and affliction or bitter-
ness (the anguish caused by the absence of the thing loved). Hope is
nothing other than love directed towards a future good of which we can be
frustrated; and again therefore it contains tenderness (that is, passionate
love) and bitterness (that is, fear of being frustrated of that good).
And trust is nothing other than great hope, that is, great love combined
with a little fear. I do not offer these definitions in order to show what
these things are (they are perfectly well-known from consciousness
itself, as I noted just now), but, since they affect us partly for good
and partly for ill (as our feelings make quite clear), in order to show
why they please us, or harm and afflict us, according as they involve
respectively love or some other emotion.‡
* Cf. Martial, Epigrammata I, 32. Note, however, that Martial mentions Sabidius
instead of Volusius. Volusius is the name of an unknown North-Italian poet Catullus
ridiculed in Poems 36 and 95.
†
Geulincx may be thinking of Aristotle, Ethica Nicomachea VIII, 1, in which the
term philanthropos appears at 155 a 20. Cf. Pseudo-Aristotle, De virtutibus et vitiis,
Chapter 8.
‡
Geulincx nowhere else offers definitions of the human passions such as we find
in the various articles of Descartes’ Les Passions de l’Ame (1649) and at the end of
the third book of Spinoza’s Ethics (1677). To put this right, his pupil Cornelis
Bontekoe wrote a Treatise on the Passions of Mind and Body that was published posthu-
mously by Johannes Flenderus in 1696 as Tractatus Ethico-Physicus de Animi & Corporis
Passionibus, Earundemque Certissimis Remediis (Qui necessarium & utilissimum Quarti Tractatûs
Ethici Geulingiani est supplementum, imò totius Ejusdem Ethicæ Compendium, & quasi Anima),
Amsterdam: Janssonio-Waesbergii, 1696.
170 annotations to the ETHICS
4. From this it is clear that men act mostly in their own interest,
and lack true humility, which consists in not having a care of one-
self, as was noted in the Preface. In fact, it is clear that they refer
all things to themselves insofar as they are men, that is, when they
are joined to a body. If they would consider themselves abstracted
from the body and the human condition, the pleasure that consists
in the bare approbation of their own actions, as mentioned here,
would seem to them to be sufficient; but they seek always grosser,
sensual pleasure, joined with bodily motion. Passionate love, which
cannot be experienced without the motion and agitation of our body,
especially the heart, is a pleasure of this kind. We also see from this
how, almost by design, they close off from themselves the path to
true Humility.
5. When we approve of some action of ours inwardly and in our
mind, with our conscience assuring us that it accords with right
Reason, that is, the law of God, it often leads to pleasure, or pas-
sionate love, of indescribable sweetness. Virtuous men may be so
ravished by this passion that they make light of those calamities com-
monly known as ruin, infamy, the harshness of imprisonment, tor-
ments, and a thousand natural shocks, in fact do not seem even to
feel them. But sometimes this mental pleasure is not accompanied
by bodily pleasure, which consists wholly in some passion or other;
for passion depends on the constitution of our body, and may have
a mental cause that on account of the incapacity of the body does
not pass into our body itself. On the other hand, passion may have
no mental cause, but nevertheless pass into our body on account of
the capacity of the body: in this case we feel pleasure without any
underlying cause of pleasure.
6. Passionate love, that is, affective love, is beyond the scope of
morality. It is neither good nor bad within the criteria of morality,
nor is it necessarily vicious, but rather a thing indifferent, or adia-
phorous, just as seeing, hearing, and similar things, are natural, not
moral. For our sensations and passions arise from the same cause,
and differ from each other only through some external relation (for
we customarily ascribe our sensations to external objects, but not
our passions). This will be explained at greater length later on, in
Treatise IV, which deals explicitly with Passions.
7. The whole meaning and nature of Virtue can be compressed
into these few words: Virtue is the intention of doing what Reason dictates.
Whether this intention is joined with, or lacks tenderness (passion-
annotations to the ETHICS 171
rather the law of God, I contend that amidst the perturbations and
anxieties of consciousness they have attained peace and tranquillity.
14. Not surprisingly; for what could persuade you to expel it, if
not self-love, or love of yourself, in order, of course, that you may
free yourself from those worries, and regain security and well-being.
But this intention is far removed from the intention in which the
nature of virtue consists, an intention that has nothing in view but
the law of God, one’s office, and one’s obligation. Thus, you will
not regain your erstwhile security; for it gets lost in the quest, and
is one of those things that have a will of their own, and come to
one only of their own accord (see this Treatise on the Adminicle of
Humility, paragraph 4). Otherwise, you will be entangled day after
day in major anxieties and scruples, from which you can escape only
by overcoming, and as it were burying this love of tranquillity with
new desires and sins, all of which is the true and horrible cost of
self-love.
15. That is, men are wont to give precedence to their passions
over their actions, and speak and act as they are so moved. This
indeed is quite perverse (in fact, in the propensity of mind that we
all feel within us to accommodate action to our affections lies the
whole origin of sin, as is shown below, in Treatise IV). The proper
thing is to give precedence to our actions, and to consider whichever
passions or affections are attached as right and good, as our lot*,
and as a not insignificant part of the human condition that God has
imposed on us. If they affect you pleasantly, give thanks to God (for
which, see below in Treatise II on Piety); if not so pleasantly, bear
with patience what has to be borne in any case. This will be more
clearly explained in Treatise IV below.
16. This is manly: not to allow oneself to become preoccupied
with one’s own passions, that is, never to grant them the right to
dictate or inhibit any action of ours, but to cede that right wholly
to Reason. For Reason alone has the vision, Reason alone has the
capacity to guide our actions; and not our blind passions.
17. Be cautious; for there is no necessity for a certain flower
always to bloom from the same stock. This is often inhibited by the
state of health of the body and its capacity for feeling, on account
* The Latin word here is pensum, a word which Beckett uses frequently in The
Unnamable.
174 annotations to the ETHICS
The argument of § 1
Love has two divisions: pleasant love, and effective love.
Pleasant love also has two divisions: sensible or corporeal love
(which is passionate love, or affective love), and spiritual love (which
is a certain kind of approbation; and pre-eminent here is that appro-
bation with which we approve of our actions when they conform
with Reason, that is, the highest law). Corporeal love comes from
men indiscriminately and at a high price, while spiritual love can
be had for almost nothing; for men are in bondage to their sensa-
tions. These matters are for the most part covered in paragraph 1.
Neither kind of love (that is, neither pleasant love nor effective
love) constitutes Virtue. For Virtue can exist with or without the for-
mer; without the latter Virtue indeed cannot exist, but is prior to
it. These matters are covered in paragraph 2.
178 annotations to the ETHICS
* Ubi nihil vales, ibi nihil velis: Geulincx’ so-called ‘axiom of morals’. Beckett makes
use of this formulation from Geulincx on a number of occasions. See Uhlmann’s
introduction for further details.
annotations to the ETHICS 179
and releases us from the human condition, that is, announces our
death; and this is the first obligation. If we should do nothing in vain,
then we should not resist when God commands us to go on living,
and continues to subject us to the human condition; and this is the
second obligation. And if the latter is the case, then we must earn a
living; and this is the third obligation. And if this is the case, then we
must perform some function, and so on. Since, then, the principle
of all these things is so clear to us, we should not state so categor-
ically that their principle is hidden from us; even though on occa-
sion it may be hidden from us in other moral matters. For example,
if we happen to be standing atop a tower when it catches fire, should
we jump off or stay where we are? Here indeed, the principle is
hidden from anyone uninstructed in Ethics (for we impute the fact that
a blind man does not see to his blindness, not to the brightness of
the Sun). But it does not follow that the principle is hidden; for what
is clear somewhere, but concealed and obscure somewhere else, is
absolutely clear, and obscure only in a secondary sense.
4. In all these cases, the son of the family is said absolutely to
know his father, but not to recognise him. For there is a world of
difference between to know and to recognise. We know many things
that we do not immediately recognise; and in this instance the son
of the family indeed knows his father, but does not recognise him
in his disguise. Thus, even the uneducated know the principle of
Ethics, but do not recognise it in (for example) such circumstances
as these: when a tower is ablaze and someone is caught on its top,
should he jump off or remain where he is? For in these and like
circumstances, the principle is in some manner disguised and veiled
from them, but if the veil is withdrawn by sound Ethics, they not
only know it but also agree with me in recognising the principle hid-
den behind the veil. And here, by the way, emerges a conspicuous
contrast between knowledge and love. For what you know some-
times, at other times not, you know absolutely; but what you love
sometimes, at other times not, you do not love absolutely. Hence,
if someone loves his friend in the manner of these well-known verses:
it is clear that he loves not his friend but his friend’s fortune. Similarly,
someone who at one time loves Reason (for instance, when he has
to be thrifty), but at another time does not (for instance, when he
has to spend money), does not love Reason, but loves at most a cer-
tain mode and circumstance of Reason. From this, by the way, it
is also now clear how just is that paradox of the Stoics: Whoever has
one virtue, has them all; that is, it is not possible to love Reason some-
times, at other times not: whoever does not love it sometimes, never
loves it.
5. This explains why I said that Virtue is love of Reason, rather
than love of God. Of course, Christians say continually in their Churches
that Virtue is love of God; and they speak the truth, for Virtue is
in a certain sense love of God rather than love of His law. Just as
someone who loves the command of a Prince (that is, wishes to obey
him) loves that command which was conceived in the mind of the
Prince rather than what is engraved on a tablet; so, all virtuous men
cultivate, and are diligent in obeying God’s law, or Reason, as it
was conceived by God, rather than as it emanates from Him and
was engraved in our mind as on a tablet. And indeed, that law, that
Reason, that decree in the divine mind of what is to be our oblig-
ation is God His very own self. It is on this pious understanding
that Christians rightly say that Virtue is rather love of God than
love of His law. But absolutely according to the letter, speaking with
exact Scholastic and Philosophical care, we must say that, for all the
obedient love in which its nature is perfected, Virtue does not extend
as far as God, but stops short of that most excellent and sublime
Being before our love can touch Him, and halts and terminates in
His law, or Reason; which is conclusively proved by the arguments
set out in the text.
6. We obey God in our own fashion and on our own under-
standing. By this I mean the understanding on which we consider
Him our lawgiver, one who conceives within Himself the Reason
that He inscribes and impresses upon us; so that the intention of
obeying Him in this way is neither vain or vicious, but on the con-
trary contains within itself the whole nature of Virtue (as I noted a
little earlier). But an intention of obeying God in Himself, and
absolutely as He is in Himself, and apart from any such under-
standing, is inept, vain, and ridiculous, and even, when we thor-
oughly analyse it, impious; for it clearly presupposes that God is
annotations to the ETHICS 181
* Cf. Arnold Geulincx, Metaphysica Vera, Part 2, “Octava Scientia”, in Opera II,
171–174/Metaphysics, 65–71.
182 annotations to the ETHICS
author of nature, He wills those acts (for they would not happen if
He did not will them). Thus, there is nothing bad about those acts.
We can never resolve the question of ineffability by means of such
analogies. For every genuine reconciliation presupposes an under-
standing of both terms: the power of God has to be reconciled with
His goodness. The power, by which He does all things, that is, all gen-
uine things, in such a way that nothing untoward occurs, still less
anything against His will; and the goodness, by which He does not
desire sin, but rightly condemns it in us, and punishes it. But we
see quite clearly that we shall never have the ability to understand
both terms of the proposed reconciliation (that is, divine goodness and
power); and accordingly, with our finite intellect we can have no hope
of effecting such a reconciliation. This craving of human ingenuity
to reconcile things that exceed its understanding involves no small
measure of impiety, because it clearly verges on judging God to be
in the end comprehensible by us (and that is as much to say that
we are equal to Him). Moreover, with every reconciliation discov-
ered by our intellect, His ineffability is taken away (because it turns
wholly on the fact that we know that He acts, but how He acts we
do not know); and with His ineffability diminished, His adorability
(which presupposes ineffability as a necessary precondition, as is
clearly shown later, in Treatise II, in the subsections on Piety and
Religion) is also taken away, and with it all religion and divine wor-
ship. Therefore, once we have rid ourselves of this craving for rec-
onciliations, it should be enough for us to distinguish each term of
the reconciliation clearly and distinctly, as it touches on the case in
question, understanding quite clearly that nothing happens unless
God directly wills it to happen (which is one term), and that, on the
other hand, He blames us for our sins, and punishes them severely
(which is the other term).
9. Just as a ship carrying a passenger with all speed towards the
west in no way prevents the passenger from walking towards the
east, so the will of God, carrying all things, impelling all things with
inexorable force, in no way prevents us from resisting His will (as
much as is in our power) with complete freedom. The difficulty here
lies in our lack of practice in thinking about a thing, rather than in
the thing itself, so by familiarising ourselves with these and other
analogies, we shall at length be able to perceive the thing itself as
well as if we had always been familiar with it (for this is the pur-
pose of analogies, which serve and conduce to no other end).
annotations to the ETHICS 183
1
For approbation we could substitute the assent by which we agree with those
propositions in which we invoke attributes of God and hold them as truths. But
such assent hardly seems to deserve the name of love, as it involves no moral good-
ness or evil (which necessarily follow from love), but only truth or falsity.
184 annotations to the ETHICS
The argument of § 2
What Reason is, is sufficiently known because of the fact that it
is known at some point. These matters are covered in paragraph 1.
Virtue is rather love of Reason than love of God; for our love—
and I mean obedient love, of which alone we here speak—is
superfluous when addressed to God Himself, who must be obeyed
are concerned. But if they arise from an intention other than that
of obeying God’s law and Reason, then they are not virtuous but
vicious actions; for whatever happens other than out of a right end is, by the
fact that the end is not right, a sin. Thus, in order to tend to sin, an
action need not arise from a bad end; it is enough for it not to arise
from a good end.
4. To this Aristotelian argument that I have just cited (namely,
placing Virtue in disposition, under which even sleeping men who
are capable of being disposed to Virtue may be called virtuous, even
though there is mostly no act) I reply that: denomination can also
arise out of a formal cause that is absent. The formal cause of
denomination is that from which the denomination is taken; so that
the formal cause of something white is whiteness, things being called
white on account of their whiteness. Thus, even something absent
may lend its name to such a cause; as when someone is called a
mayor from having served as a mayor, as the Dutch saying has it:
Once a mayor, always a mayor. Similarly, a man may be called rich on
account of riches that are not actually in his possession, as in the
example in the text; similarly also, he could be called virtuous on
account of his virtuousness (that is, from an intention of doing what
Reason dictates) even though, during sleep or when his thoughts
have been distracted by something else, virtuousness, that is, the said
intention, is absent. And in general this whole objection is about
names, something from which sound argument can never flow, as
names and their meanings depend merely on human convention,
and are not part of the nature of the thing denominated.
5. Thus also today we customarily call a wall of a house white
on account of the fact that their inner sides are usually whitewashed,
in order to reflect light into our rooms and to make it easier to
clean off the dust and dirt that stick to them. Hence, they are called
white because they are normally white. Nevertheless, they are not
called white out of that usage or custom (however much it may be
required to the denomination of white), but from the whiteness that
adheres to them. Thus, the custom is a precondition of that denom-
ination (for if the inner walls of our houses were painted promiscu-
ously in any old colour, they would no longer be called white rather
than some other colour), but the formal cause of the denomination
is whiteness itself. It is from this and on this account that they are
called white.
annotations to the ETHICS 187
2
This error seems to have overcome them by degrees: first, they saw that vir-
tuous men act with love, or with a great and firm intention (for virtue is love, and
just such an intention); secondly, on account of analogy and similitude (which are
perhaps the single greatest cause of our errors, as we observed in our Commentary
on Descartes’ Principles†) they confused love with facility, in consequence of which
virtuous men seemed to them to act with facility, and virtue seemed to be facility;
and lastly, since they saw that we acquire facility (of the corporeal and sensible kind)
for the most part by repeated actions (in which two ideas the whole nature of dis-
position consists), and nothing remained to those led into this impasse through error
but to place virtue in disposition.
* Pro Iunone nubem: according to an old myth, Ixion was punished for coupling
with an image of Juno that Jupiter had formed from a cloud.
†
Cf. Annotata Latiora in Principia Philosophiae Renati Descartes, esp. the annotations
to Principia I, 70 and 71, where Geulincx argues that the root of all epistemologi-
cal and moral error lies in an original propensity to take species for ideas; Opera III,
410 ff.
annotations to the ETHICS 189
The Argument of § 3
Virtue must not be placed in disposition. First, because while virtue
is prior to virtuous actions, disposition is posterior to them; secondly,
because while virtue belongs with morals, disposition belongs with
nature. These matters are covered in paragraph 1.
Thirdly, because while virtue can be acquired all at once, dispo-
sition can be acquired only gradually and through repeated acts.
Fourthly (an argument from authority), because this is how all
Christians in their Churches regard it. These matters are covered in
paragraph 3.
The objection is made that even men who are asleep, in whom
there is no intention such as that in which we have placed virtue,
but only a disposition to act well, are also virtuous. I reply that in
such men there is an intention of acting well, or at least morally,
which is enough to justify this denomination. The objection is made,
secondly, that such a disposition is necessary for a man to be called
virtuous. I reply that the assumption is false, as paragraph 3 makes
clear; and that as far as there is any truth in it at all, it follows at
most that disposition is a precondition of being called virtuous, and
not its formal cause. These matters are covered in paragraph 2.
Finally, a distinction is made between love and disposition, the
confusion of which seems to have been the root of the Aristotelians’
error. These matters are covered in paragraph 4.
must listen to Reason; and if you listen you will perceive what it
tells you, and it is in this that Wisdom ultimately consists. Similarly,
Obedience follows immediately from the nature of Virtue (for if you
love Reason, it follows immediately that you must do what it dic-
tates, and it is in this that Obedience consists). But Freedom follows
not immediately, but remotely, in this way: If you love Reason, you
will do only what it dictates, and if you do only this, you will always
do what you want, it will always be agreeable to you, and it is in
this that freedom ultimately consists. We might speak similarly con-
cerning Justice and Satisfaction, and also concerning Humility and
Elevation, that is, Happiness or bliss. But all this will become clear
in due course when we come to discuss the individual Cardinal
Virtues.
2. Hence, we exclude particular Virtues, which always refer to
some external circumstance; such as Temperance, which refers
specifically to favourable things; Fortitude, which refers specifically
to adverse things; Piety and Religion, which refer specifically to God;
and Equity and Civil Justice, which refer specifically to other men.
All this will be made clear in Treatise II, where I shall deal explic-
itly with the particular Virtues.
To Section I. § 1. Diligence.
3. Reason has these four attributes. First, there is dictate; secondly,
law; thirdly, rule; and fourthly, the task that is enjoined on us.
Accordingly, Virtue, which is nothing other than love of Reason,
embraces Reason as pronouncing its dictate, through listening, or
diligence; embraces Reason as promulgating law through obedience;
embraces Reason as ruling and measuring our actions through justice;
and finally, embraces Reason as enjoining on us our task and office
through humility. Of these four attributes of Reason, the first is the
dictate, which is the broadest and most general attribute of Reason.
For Reason extends by the dictate as much to physical things as
moral things, as much to speculative things as practical things (for
in all these matters Reason exercises itself by dictate); through rule,
law, and task, it is concerned in the strict sense only with Ethics,
and things of a moral kind. From this you see that Diligence is first
among the Cardinal Virtues, as it embraces Reason as it is in itself
and over its whole sphere; while the other Cardinal Virtues (Obedience,
Justice, and Humility) embrace Reason only as it relates to them-
selves; that is to say, they are concerned purely with morals.
annotations to the ETHICS 191
so proceeding, they at last prove greater than all their peers, in fact
learned and profoundly wise above all other men. For these are the
shining words of Diligence: Learn not many things, but much about a few
things; for if you learn much you will know many things, but if you
learn many things you will mix them all up, and know nothing.
10. There is nothing that veils Reason from us other than our
prejudices and desires; Reason by itself is clear and simple. Therefore,
anyone who is accustomed to frequent Reason when it is compar-
atively free from these prejudices and desires of ours will also recog-
nise it easily when it seems to be wrapped up tightly in the folds of
our prejudices and desires. For he has made Reason’s acquaintance
as well as that of Reason’s veil; and so is easily able to pierce the
veil and look upon Reason with a gaze that is neither averted nor
obstructed, in which unflinching gaze true wisdom consists.
11. It is worthy of note that those disciplines which are the great-
est cultivators of palpable Truths, Truths so palpable that they are
a popular object of ridicule, and are called fatuous (such as Geometry
and Arithmetic, which make their common notions, postulates, and
definitions always absolutely clear from the start, and continually
instil them into their students), have to this day, throughout so many
centuries, remained pure and undefiled, not only by errors, but even
by conjectures, opinions, and suspicions; whilst other less rigorous
disciplines have lapsed into innumerable errors, and if possible, into
even more opinions, conjectures, trifles, and daydreams. This is to
be observed mainly in Metaphysics and Logic, which abound every-
where in superfluities, while being still by nature true and genuine
sciences no less than Mathematics.
12. The mythical sense of this fable (comparing Reason to an
inamorata, with ourselves regarded as her suitor) is very obvious:
nobody can master the abstruse and recondite Reason that belongs
to learning and the sciences who has not first progressed through
the rudiments of Reason. Hence those tears; hence that multitude
of those who see too late, and lament that they have wasted their
toil and sweat applying their minds to the higher sciences before
mastering the lower ones, and that they wanted to fly (as the Dutch
saying has it) before they had wings. Therefore, Reason is rightly
depicted as a fair maiden who disdains to share the marriage-bed
of wisdom with one by whom she sees her rudiments held in contempt.
194 annotations to the ETHICS
* The references are to the “Obligations” that result from the virtue of Humility.
Cf. Treatise I, Chapter II, Section II, §§ 4–10. Note that the editor of the first
complete publication of Geulincx’ ethics in 1675, presumably Geulincx’ student
Cornelis Bontekoe (c. 1644–1685), published the work under the name Philaretus. It
has been argued that the references to ‘Philaretus’ and his ‘brother’ (see below,
Treatise I, Chapter II, Section II, § 12, [2]) were actually meant as references to
Cornelis Bontekoe and a certain Paulus Bontekoe, who also studied with Geulincx
and may have been Cornelis’ brother. Cf. C. Louise Thijssen-Schoute, Nederlands
Cartesianisme, Avec sommaire et table des matières en français. Amsterdam: Noord-
Hollandsche Uitgeversmaatschappij, 1954/ed. Theo Verbeek, Utrecht: HES, 1989,
182–183.
†
The main text seems to be clearer on this point: although obedience as such
has no place in physics, the diligence with which we strive for ‘Speculative Wisdom’
is similar to the virtuous attitude with which we pursue obedience to Reason in
morality.
annotations to the ETHICS 197
The argument of § 1
Diligence is listening to Reason. These matters are covered in
paragraph 1.
It has two parts: Turning away from external things (for they hin-
der listening), and turning into oneself (for Reason, which we have
to listen to, has its dwelling-place there). We naturally proceed in
this way, and summon within us for examination by Reason every-
thing that comes to us from outside. These matters are covered in
paragraph 2.
The Adminicle of diligence is familiarity with Reason. This famil-
iarity is principally entered into in two ways: first, by frequent rep-
etition of what we know, and in which Reason is evidently present;
secondly, by the cultivation of those disciplines that rejoice exceed-
ingly in Reason and demonstration, such as Mathematics. These
matters are covered in paragraph 3.
annotations to the ETHICS 199
3
You may have heard what Reason says, and also perceived what Reason says,
but unless you also love Reason you will not do what Reason says. Hence it is
love alone that moves you to obey; and then you are truly obedient.
200 annotations to the ETHICS
ates one now and then (so to speak), a negative precept obligates one
at all times. Thus, Honour thy father is a positive precept, and so is
not always an obligation (for he does not have to be honoured all
the time, but only when an occasion has arisen when it appears that
he should be honoured); but Thou shalt not kill is a negative precept,
and there can be no holiday from it, that is, you shall never kill,
neither now nor then, nor at any other time. Hence, negative pre-
cepts have a conjunctive sense through the presence of the word nei-
ther (as if you should say: you will not do it now, or then, or at any
other moment of time), while positive precepts have a disjunctive sense
through the presence of the word or (as if you should say: you will
do it now or then). Moreover, they also declare that positive pre-
cepts have negative counterparts. For example, honour has the coun-
terparts do not harm, do not offer injury, which are always obligations;
for even though parents are not always worthy of honour, they should
never be harmed or subjected to violence.
5. The high road to true obedience is to leave behind that superficial
or insubstantial obedience which does service for obedience among
men. For it is like the outward accoutrements and face of true obe-
dience, a likeness that leads many astray; in fact, such a likeness that
many (among them even some acute Philosophers as well as the
whole mass of corrupt politicians) recognise no other kind of obe-
dience beyond what is accorded to rulers and magistrates.
6. Human law (and we should understand the same of custom
and usage, for they have the force of law) can never in itself place
us under an obligation. All the same, one sometimes has to do what
men dictate, not because they dictate it but because God has dic-
tated that we should on occasion go along with them (for example,
we often have to do what parents and magistrates dictate), or because
we cannot obey divine law or Reason unless we do what some man
has dictated. Thus, we sometimes also have to do what bandits have
ordered, for example if they hold you up in the forest and order
you to hand over to them your money, your clothing, and your
weapon; in fact, even if they order you to do filthy things, to the
extent that they are not directly contrary to God’s law (such as to
devour cattle dung [if you will pardon the expression] or even human
faeces) you will have to do them, not because of the bandits’ orders
but because otherwise God’s law on the maintenance of life cannot
be observed; concerning which see Obligation 2 below. From this it
is plain that though virtuous men often do many of the things that
202 annotations to the ETHICS
vicious men have ordered, they never do them because such men
order them, but because an instance of divine obligation springs from
an order that they have issued.
7. For only God, or Reason, can be the end-for-which of obedi-
ence (I mean, the ultimate end; for this alone is in the proper sense
an end); and it is never right for a man to be dignified with that
honour. However, a man can be a subordinate end-for-which: this
comes about when we obey, rightly and with compelling reason, our
parents and the civil magistracy; for in that case they are indeed an
end-for-which of obedience. We obey them because God dictates
that we should obey them; but the overriding obedience is due to
God, because He is the ultimate end of obedience; we obey such
men because this is obeying God as dictating it. Moreover, we often
do what someone else has ordered, but in such a manner that we
do not obey him, not even as a subordinate end of obedience; as
when we do what the bandits in the forest order, threatening to cut
us up unless we do it; for in such a case we (if we are to be virtu-
ous men) merely obey God because He orders us to preserve our
lives, and we do not inwardly attach any obedience to the bandits.
All this is explained at greater length a little later in paragraph 4.4
8. Of course, Reason is a law, and human laws are of similar
tenor and of similar outward appearance to the true divine law.
Hence, anyone who has not been used to observe the difference
between them will as a result be easily deceived, taking things that
are similar to be things that are the same, and confusing them. Out
of this error (for every error is a slippery slope towards other errors)
there easily flows in turn the belief that there is no law but human
4
Virtuous men obey absolutely God alone; but they also obey certain men, and
in a way approaching absolute and perfect obedience when they are men subor-
dinate to God; in other words, they obey them because God has ordered us to
obey them. In this category are parents, whom (as the name itself signifies) we
ought to obey; virtuous magistrates and rulers are also in this category. We are
said to obey them directly, since they are, as it were, on the straight line along
which the will of a virtuous man travels towards God as the ultimate end-for-which
of our obedience, even though they do not stand in the last place on that line, so
that our will is not in the proper sense aimed at them; just as someone approach-
ing The Hague from Leiden does not in the proper sense approach Huis ten Deyl,
nor in the proper sense the woodlands, but The Hague, and this alone puts him
on course, and on his journey. Finally, there is a third method of obeying indi-
rectly, which is the most imperfect of all, and that is when we obey someone not
standing on the line along which our will travels towards God; as when we obey
a bandit in the woods.
annotations to the ETHICS 203
law, and that there is nothing in it that transcends the custom and
behaviour of men; to which opinion Aristotle inclines, as is plain
from the references cited here and from many others. And in our
own time, many triflers (called ‘Statesmen’ by the vulgar, though
undeservedly) do not only incline to that opinion but fall headlong
into it; a fate that befalls them through ignorance of true philoso-
phy, ignorance from which comes nothing that is not bad.
9. This holds most strongly of all of humility, and things in respect
of it. For nothing can fall more discordantly on people’s ears5 than
this principle that is the foundation of right Ethics: Do nothing for
one’s own sake; undertake nothing with a view to one’s own hap-
piness and blessedness. To be sure, people are persuaded that every-
thing should be done for their own sake and for the sake of their
happiness, as those who seem to them to be less virtuous do every-
thing for the sake of monetary gain, use, and their pleasures, and
those who seem to them to be very virtuous do everything to gain
the eternal blessedness that is supposed to await them in the next
life. Neither sticks to his office, neither sticks to his obligation; for
neither is it enough to do what God has prescribed he should do.
10. Not without justification, if what he stated is true, namely,
that Ethical matters depend not so much on Nature and Reason as
on human choice; and they are of no greater value, if such is the
case. A great many give an excessive amount of attention to such
things that are merely probable, and hence that just complaint and
protest of Cicero: What? Shall the question whether the birth of a slave-girl
is to be regarded as a product be disputed among the rulers of the state; shall
these things (by which he means our very morals) which sustain the whole
of life be neglected? (On the End, at the beginning of Book 2).*
11. This vain and vulgar man sets so much store by those crude
Treatises on Ethics lest there should emerge at some time one more
5
They do not labour overmuch concerning what constitutes humility, given the
prejudices of their understanding (for what is clearer than that a law does not favour
anyone, and that consequently he who lays down a law does not establish it for
his own sake?), but labour exceedingly over their own desires, which always incline
them to do everything on account of themselves. So long as they do not overcome
their desires, they make judgements not in accordance with their understanding,
but (so to speak) as the mood takes them, that is, as they desire.
polished who can rebut such gross and crude Ethics (in the mode
of life of which they are liable to become fixed and engrossed), and
will cleanse that Augean stable in which Aristotle himself, with his
pagan co-philosophers, floundered, and (as we see here) would still
wallow freely and without reproach. Thus, he discourages the best
minds from the study of Ethics by persuading them that it is not to
their taste, that it is an activity not for the subtle but for crude and
gross wits, and that anyone in the crowd is capable of it.
12. See, he indicates that there is no place in Ethical matters for
great subtlety, and that therefore they should be treated only in a
rough and ready manner. But how wrong he is, is plain enough
from the infinite number of errors in which, as a result of treating
them so roughly, he entangled both himself and his Ethics. First of
all, he strays with the other pagans from the gate of humility, which
he could have recognised with no trouble if something more subtle
(such as informs, often too subtly, other parts of his Philosophy) had
informed his Ethics. It is not difficult to see that if one would embrace
Reason (for it is God’s law), one must withdraw from one’s own
embraces. Since law, as such, always dictates one’s task and office,
it must not concern itself with the benefit of him for whom it is laid
down. Let the benefit be what flows from the office onto him who
correctly discharges it.
13. Such as glory, or the desire to seek for oneself honours and
dignities, which he refers to the virtue of magnificence or magna-
nimity; such as anger and the inclination to act out of anger, which
he greatly commends in warlike matters and other arduous and
difficult tasks; and in general action arising from passion (which is
sin its very self ). He recognised no virtue other than what acts out
of passions, albeit passions moderated or confined by a certain mean;
as we shall see in due course later on, in Treatise IV.
14. The prime, fundamental, and essential freedom is: do what thou
wilt. This kind of freedom is found in every moral act, whether it
is concerned with vice or virtue; and acts that lack this kind of free-
dom are concerned with nature rather than morals. In contrast, acci-
dental freedom is: do what thou hast determined upon; and many of our
acts lack this kind of freedom. We often perform acts out of habit,
or swept away by some violent passion, before having determined
what is to be done. These kinds of freedom are found not among
the fruits or rewards of virtue, but in its exercise. There is, accord-
ingly, another, and third kind of freedom, for which all strive, and
annotations to the ETHICS 205
from which freedom [libertas] derives its name; that is, do as thou pleas-
est; or to speak in more elevated language (for libere and lubere sound
bad, inspiring in whoever hears them not just freedom but lust), do
as thou art minded. For example, the merchant who when a storm
blows up flings his merchandise into the sea does not enjoy this kind
of freedom:* though in such a case he may do what he wishes, and
indeed what he has determined upon (and therefore is free in the
sense of the two former kinds of freedom), he nevertheless does not
do what pleases him, but on the contrary acts against how he is
minded, and would by no means do it if he were not forced to do
it. In this sense of freedom the virtuous man is always and every-
where absolutely free, and he alone. He never does anything to
which he is not minded, anything that he might have cause to regret
once he has given his mind to the whole act and its attendant cir-
cumstances. This, I must add, is because when he gives his mind
only partially to the act he will often seem to act against what he
is minded to do. For instance, he surrendered his livelihood and for-
tune to the thief or tyrant who demanded them; or perhaps he slew
his father, led on by invincible ignorance, having judged him to be
an enemy. In such cases the virtuous man seems to act contrary to
how he is minded (for he would not have surrendered his livelihood
to the tyrant if it had been possible to save himself without surren-
dering them; nor would he have slain his father if he had known
him to be his father). But it only seems so; and this is just how it
seems when he gives his mind only to part of the act. When, how-
ever, he considers the whole of his act (and sees that he surrendered
his livelihood to the tyrant because he is bound by his obligation
and by the law of God, which is that life must be preserved; or that
he slew his father as one who was obliged to slay an enemy of his
country and thought his father to be such an enemy), it cannot dis-
please him, for this is to act throughout according to the dictate of
Reason. He wishes for nothing that disagrees with that dictate, and
for everything that agrees with that dictate. He will neither regret,
nor can he ever come to regret doing what in the example cited
was either out of necessity surrendering his livelihood, or encompassed
* I.e. under the condition that the merchant is not virtuous in the sense of enjoy-
ing the freedom of intention that accompanies an act on account of reason, but is
unwilling to do away with his merchandise and suffers from his loss. See also here-
after, note 15.
206 annotations to the ETHICS
by invincible ignorance slaying his father. They were his acts only
insofar as they were not contrary to Reason.
15. That is, what pleases him, or what he is minded to do. But
in general, vicious men also do what they will; in fact, they also do
what they have determined upon, or act deliberately, for these things
are a feature of every moral act, whether good or bad. However,
we modify such an expression as what pleases because it sounds quite
bad, and in common usage signifies lust rather than freedom, as we
noted earlier. Even though vicious men may thus be free in the two
former senses of freedom, they never rejoice in freedom of the third
kind. They never do as they are minded, they never do anything that
they will necessarily not come to regret, they always act like the
merchant who regretfully casts his merchandise into the sea. And
though they may often seem to the vulgar to do as they please, they
must at times face many things which they do regretfully and with-
out pleasure, and not as they are minded. For their care and labour
can be frustrated of its desired success; in fact, they are always and
of necessity frustrated.6 In this frustration there is always necessarily
regret; but virtuous men can never be frustrated, as is proved here
in the main text.
16. To serve someone is nothing other than to do something
because he commands it; but to serve someone is not to do what he
commands. For unless at the same time you do it because he com-
mands it, you do not serve him; as is quite evident from the example
that follows next. Thus, the virtuous man very often does what some
6
Vicious men do all things for the sake of themselves (for sin is nothing other
than lawless action: one who acts within the law never acts for the sake of him-
self, but the lawless have nothing on account of which to act other than them-
selves). Hence, since vicious men do all things for the sake of themselves, their every
action naturally and with fatal necessity works against them, that is, works to their
utter ruin and destruction, just as pouring oil on a fire naturally tends not to dowse
it but to inflame it (this I shall show later on when I come to discuss the penalty
of sin). Since, therefore, they will always act to advance themselves, so that their
actions never advance them but always harm them badly, it is obvious that they
always and everywhere frustrate themselves of their desired end, and always act
reluctantly; they never act as they are minded, never do what pleases them, but
always what displeases them. If anyone pours oil onto a fire in order to extinguish
it, believing it to be water, he is regretful, he does not do as he pleases, or what
pleases him, but what displeases him, in that the nature of the act is out of har-
mony with how he is minded, and tends to something else. In the same way, vicious
men, since they act for the sake of themselves, and the nature of their action is
against themselves, will always prove to be frustrated, and will act always against
how they are minded.
annotations to the ETHICS 207
man commands, but never does it because the man commands it;
therefore, he serves no man, but only Reason and God; for he does
what they command, but in such a way that he does it only because
they command it.
17. Nor strictly this; for the will of the virtuous man is ultimately
subordinate to the end-for-which. Thus, the virtuous man does not
do something because he wishes it, but because God wishes it, that
is, because Reason (which, as an expression of the will of God, is
certainly a law) dictates it. Hence, it is plain that the virtuous man
can never be free in the sense of not serving anyone; for he serves
God and Reason, and his entire freedom consists in that service,
since freedom that is absolute and exempt from all service can be
found only in God. The virtuous man does what he wishes only in
the sense that he wishes nothing but what Reason dictates, against
which he does not do anything without willing it; for it is impossi-
ble for him to act contrary to Reason against his will.
18. You will say: there is a great difference between this neigh-
bour of yours and the master of the virtuous man; for your neigh-
bour’s imperative in no way furnishes a cause for your action, but
the imperative of the master is a cause, or at least a precondition
of many of the actions that the virtuous man who is his servant per-
forms, as he would not perform those actions unless his master had
ordered them. I reply: it is true, and accordingly it is rightly said
that, Every analogy is lame. The analogy that is pressed here consists
only, and has its force and energy, in the fact that neither the imper-
ative of the circumstances nor the command of the master in the
example cited is in any way a true cause of action or an obedient
end. That holds in neither case here, because neither will you leave
the house unless your neighbour demands it (you do only what he
calls for, you do not do it because he calls for it), nor does the vir-
tuous man bear a burden because his master dictates it, but because
Reason dictates it (which in this case happens to dictate that we
should remain here among the living until God summons us). Hence,
he too does what his master orders, he does not do it because his mas-
ter orders it.
19. Never do anything intrinsically evil, or such as cannot be
rightly done; for the command of a master, and even danger to life,
cannot remove the intrinsic and essential evil from such things. So,
in this case the virtuous man will see that he is absolved of the oblig-
ation that dictates that we remain here, and that another is enjoined
208 annotations to the ETHICS
The Argument of § 2
Obedience is an exercise of Reason. It is born of virtue, that is,
love of Reason, inasmuch as Reason is a law; for whoever loves
virtue as a law must obey it. These matters are covered in para-
graph 1.
Just as there are two divisions of law, to order and to prohibit,
so also are there two divisions of Obedience, to do and not to do.
These matters are covered in paragraph 2.
The Adminicle of Obedience is, with the utmost diligence to
beware of the Obedience of men. We must no doubt on occasion
do what men order, but never because they order it. Here let us
glance at Aristotle, who vacillates, and complains that he cannot ade-
quately distinguish between the Obedience due to Reason and the
Obedience due to men; and consequently conceives of Ethics as
something to be treated only cursorily, and not deserving anything
more, as something vague, and similar to, or even the same as things
pleasing to men. These matters are covered in paragraph 3.
The Fruit of Obedience is Freedom, or not doing anything unwill-
ingly; freedom that he alone who obeys only Reason possesses always
and everywhere. For there is no conceivable instance in which he
could be compelled to act unwillingly, since Reason plays an equal, and
equally valid part in both kinds of fortune, and in every state
and condition of life. Consequently, whoever respects Reason alone,
and stands and falls by Reason alone, can never be forced against
his will to do that to which he would not be minded. These mat-
ters are covered in paragraph 4.
* Vero bono secundum Deum nihil pulchrius esse: the idea being that virtue will make
us godlike. Cf. the expression secundum Deum in the Vulgate Latin version of
2 Corinthians 7: 9 and Ephesians 4: 24.
†
Onkuysheyt, or onkuisheid in modern Dutch spelling, literally meaning ‘unchastity’.
annotations to the ETHICS 211
FRUGALITY
MODESTY
NOBILITY
Excess Defect Excess Defect
MISERLINESS SHEEPISHNESS
SUPERSTITION BUFFOONERY
GOOD HUMOUR
MANLY PIETY
RELIGION
GRAVITY
Excess Defect Excess Defect
IMPIETY CLODDISHNESS
Last among these you have a figure with Good Humour and Gravity
placed in opposition, and also along its sides buffoonery and clod-
dishness. Buffoonery is in excess of good humour and in defect of
gravity; cloddishness is in excess of gravity, and in defect of good
humour.
10. A matter of necessity when it comes to curbing the Devil (of
whom we shall speak in Treatise IV, when we discuss the enemies
of virtue), who urges us: Continue, because you have begun; and against
whom virtue holds up this shield: Nothing in excess. For with the Devil
urging you on it is easy to wander from the mean of virtue into
excess; and anyone who has decided to appear liberal easily degen-
erates into prodigality; anyone who has decided to present himself
as frugal easily degenerates into miserliness; nobility degenerates into
arrogance, modesty into sheepishness, religion into superstition, manly
piety into impiety, good humour into frivolity; gravity into morose-
ness and cloddishness; and so on. There is always more danger from
excess than from defect; for one who has decided to be liberal does
not so easily degenerate into miserliness; frugality does not so easily
degenerate into prodigality; nobility does not so easily degenerate
into sheepishness; and so on; because the wiles of the Devil have
less force in this direction.
11. Metaphysicians customarily assign three properties to being,
namely, one, true, and perfect; but a fourth is really required, and that
is pure. Just as each thing is the one thing that it is (for example, a
stream is one stream even though it may have many drops), just as
each thing is the true thing that it is (as a stream is a true stream),
and again is the perfect thing that it is (for an imperfect stream, an
imperfect table, and an imperfect house are not the things them-
selves but parts of them), so also each thing is the pure thing that it
is; for an impure thing is not that thing, but that thing and some-
thing else which is mixed with it. Thus, impure gold is not gold but
gold mixed with dross; impure wine is not wine but wine with lees
or something else mixed with it; and so on for the rest. From this
it clearly follows that Justice is found in a thing according to each
7
The two most pestilential plagues in a Commonwealth, slander and flattery,
act so as to drive all Ethics from the minds of men, while producing confusion
between virtue and vice; for the flatterer fastens the names of virtues on vices, the
slanderer the names of vices on virtues. Hence it comes about that the more uncul-
tured kind of men flee virtue, which they have heard branded with a foul name,
as if it were vice, and instead of virtue follow vice, which they have heard dignified
with a fair name. The distinction between virtue and vice having become uncer-
tain or even non-existent, the Commonwealth (whose entire well-being derives from
its virtuous citizens, who without a choice between virtue and vice cannot be vir-
tuous) may fall to ruin.
annotations to the ETHICS 215
and in which one can discern more or less deviation. For good arises
from a general cause, evil from individual defects (as philosophers acutely
observe);* hence, while there can be many defects, which conse-
quently can add up to a greater or less number, good can only be
one and general. However, what the scope of more and less should
be (for such qualifications apply to the operations of the mind, of
which the vulgar are ignorant), I explain in my Metaphysics, princi-
pally in the part dealing with Aristotelian Metaphysics; which here
would be too much of a detour.†
14. The sufficiency that results from purity and perfection com-
bined, that is, from the cutting away of what is too much and [the
adding to] what is too little; that sufficiency, I say, is the fruit and
essential reward of justice, which is inseparable from it. For when
we take away what was too much, and make up what was too lit-
tle and incomplete, it results necessarily in that state of sufficiency
than which nothing more sublime, nothing more heavenly, can be
conceived; for things are never better than when they are just enough.
Beyond this essential sufficiency of justice we find an accidental kind
of sufficiency, which is commonly called in the vernacular ‘content-
ment’: it is a passion that belongs to affective love, and is by far the
most pleasant kind of passion.
15. Led astray by the wiles of the Devil. For the Devil always
incites one to excess, which he markets under the name of virtue
or, as is noted here in the text, greater virtue. Concerning this, see
below in Treatise IV.
16. A common but ridiculous delusion of the vulgar; for with this
they distinguish and single out whoever they would be seen as want-
ing to flatter. For if it is more than enough, it is done badly and
foolishly, as more than enough necessarily involves something done in
vain (as will presently be shown in the text); but to act in vain is to
act foolishly and inappropriately. Accordingly, when they flatter some-
one with epithets such as liberal, modest, or generous etc, they really
make him sound fatuous and ridiculous. However, those who pay
* Bonum ex integra causa, malum ex singulis defectibus; a slight variation on the Latin
saying bonum est ex integra causa; malum ex quocumque [or quovis] defectu. The expres-
sion occurs also in Descartes. Cf. Étienne Gilson, Index scolastico-cartésien, Paris: Vrin,
1979, 35.
†
Cf. Arnold Geulincx, Metaphysica ad Mentem Peripateticam, Part 1, § 3, “De Gradibus
Substantiae”, in Opera II, esp. 219, where it is argued that although snow may be
whiter than a whitewashed wall, the whiteness of snow should not be called whiter.
216 annotations to the ETHICS
The argument of § 3
Justice is the fair application of Reason. It arises also from Virtue,
or love of Reason, as the rules and proportions of our actions; for
* Cf. Arnold Geulincx, Logica fundamentis suis restituta, Part 4, Section 2, Chapter
8, § 1, in Opera I, 221.
annotations to the ETHICS 217
who in despair take their own life do it ultimately for their own
sake, that is, in order to escape poverty, disgrace, punishment, and
other things of that kind, which the vulgar call calamities. In the end,
whatever men do intentionally, it is either because Reason dictates
it, or because it pleases them, (for if you do not act because Reason
dictates, then you act because it is agreeable, because it pleases you,
because it seems best, because you have chosen to act in such-and-
such a way). If they act for the latter reason, for the sake of them-
selves and in their own interest, they are consequently not humble,
and do not disregard themselves, but regard themselves in all things.
But if they act for the former reason, then inasmuch as they disre-
gard themselves they also open themselves exclusively to Reason.
Therefore, there can be no true disregard of oneself other than out
of love of God and Reason.
2. One disregards oneself in the positive sense if one aims at the
very state of being despised, and wilfully and intentionally seeks to
be disregarded and despised. This is far from how the virtuous man
is disposed: he disregards himself only in the negative sense of not
taking care of himself. This cannot happen unless he takes the utmost
care of Reason, as has now been conclusively demonstrated.
3. The virtuous man, so far as his intention is concerned, in no
way cares for himself, and does not work in his own interest; but
so far as the result is concerned, cares for himself best of all, and
labours hard in his own interest. This is because everything he does
tends naturally and necessarily to make him supremely happy and
blessed (as will become clear later on when we deal in Treatise V
with the Reward of Virtue). With vicious men the opposite holds:
so far as their intention is concerned, they care for themselves best
of all, and continually labour in their interest (as can be seen in
what we noted at the beginning of this subsection), but so far as the
result or outcome is concerned, profoundly neglect themselves, and
hate themselves worst of all; for everything they do tends naturally
to their ruin, and to their lamentable, final, and most wretched doom;
as will emerge starkly in Treatise V, where I also discuss the penalty
of sin.
4. Reason dictates this by proceeding through a number of steps,
which we shall traverse a little later when we come to speak of oblig-
ations; for the time being we shall just note it in passing. Reason,
then, dictates that we remain among the living until we are released
(for having been sent here by God, we have by this very fact been
annotations to the ETHICS 219
well as the office that it imposes on us. When virtue shoulders this
task, it brings forth humility; for it is impossible that it should under-
take its task, and yet love itself, since the task, as such, must not
look to anything desirable or to desirability; it must not look to the
benefit of him on whom it is imposed.
8. The meaning of this fable or myth is, that while the preced-
ing Cardinal Virtues are born out of a union with Reason as it is
in itself, Humility is generated out of a union with Reason insofar
as Reason concerns us, the ones whom the task or office binds.
However, what it is, and what it is in itself, are already prior to
what it is when it is subordinated to other things. Thus, the former
union is prior to the latter union, and what is begotten out of the
former is prior to what is begotten out of the latter.
9. Another reason for the same is stated here,* namely, that while
the other virtues are closely involved with their object (that is, con-
cerned with something), humility is concerned with its subject (that is,
concerned in something). For Diligence is listening to Reason, Obedience
is the exercise of Reason, and Justice is the proportioning of Reason
(and notice how these are concerned with Reason as the object of
virtue, as what we must embrace with that love that constitutes
virtue); but Humility is an indifference to oneself. And notice that
Humility is concerned with the subject of Virtue, with the person
in whom there is virtue: therefore, since the object is prior to the
subject (as the very meaning of those names implies), it also follows
that the other virtues are prior to Humility.
10. Another consideration is involved, according to which humil-
ity is prior to diligence; namely, that only a humble man can truly
listen to the dictate of Reason. For how will he listen to what Reason
says if he listens only to what he himself says, that is, to what con-
cerns his convenience and pleasure? Hence, it is assuredly the case
that perfect and complete diligence presupposes humility, or a care-
lessness of oneself; for the old Dutch saying, We can listen to two people
singing at once, but not two people talking at once, applies here as well.†
* Viz., in the explanation that follows both here and in the main text.
†
A Dutch saying Men kan wel tegelijk zingen, maar niet tegelijk praten (‘It is possible
to sing together at the same time, but not to talk’), is included in Jan Meulendijks
and Bart Schuil, Spreekwoordelijk Nederlands. Ruim 20.000 bekende en minder bekende gezeg-
den, spreekwoorden en uitdrukkingen, Baarn: Tirion, 1998, 583.
annotations to the ETHICS 221
The Argument of § 1
Humility is carelessness of oneself; not in a positive sense, but (as
I employ the words) in a negative sense. Hence, humility is better
described as carelessness and neglect of oneself than as disregard of
oneself, because the latter signifies something positive, unless you are
aware of my usage, while the former signifies something negative.
This covers paragraph 1.
Humility is born out of Virtue; for it is impossible that anyone
should neglect himself unless led to such neglect by love of Reason,
that is, divine law.
The Appendix features a contest about priority, or rather, a debate
in which we enquire variously into which of the cardinal virtues is
prior, and which is posterior. This debate is grounded in the fact
222 annotations to the ETHICS
making of such a body, but even abuse such a phrase and manner
of speech by saying that when he has merely made an effort in the
matter of his children, he has made them. Furthermore, anyone who
expresses himself in this way claims to be the maker not only of a
human body (which itself is the height of impiety), but of a whole
and complete man, and therefore ascribes to himself the making of
a human mind. Therefore, the phrase is reprehensible, and those
who are given to making use of it fail to grasp just how reprehen-
sible it is. There is danger in bad speech, even if you do not think
badly: it is easy to pass from ill words to ill thoughts, as I have
noted in paragraph 3 of § 3 on Justice, where it is said: “But we
shall have to put up with these abuses of language” etc.*
8. Things that I rejected in paragraphs 2 and 3 as alien to us,
namely, the construction of this world and its parts, and consequently
of our body (which is itself a part of the world, as I noted a little
earlier), and which anyone who has recognised them as alien easily
allows are withheld from him, pose no difficulty. But now we encounter
some kind of heavy curtain, which hinders us from completely inspect-
ing ourselves, but which we still cling to by the skin of our teeth,
and rightly or wrongly claim for ourselves: I mean, the motion of
our body and its organs. We are so used to ascribing this to ourselves
that we seem not to doubt for a moment that it is our work; and
accordingly, anyone who says otherwise is greeted with derision.
Until, that is, true philosophy renders ridiculous not him who said it,
but ourselves, carried away and deluded by that stupid belief, ridicu-
lous in our own eyes. And that is how it goes: we liberally (and I do
not know with what kind of innate arrogance) mingle ourselves with
the works of God. For since He makes the world through motion
(as I show conclusively in my Physics),† we too want to do so when
we maintain that we are able to move this little body of ours.
8
Some have objected to the said principle, that it is often the case that we do
not know how something is done, or could be done; such as that we do not know
how iron is attracted to a magnet, and yet it is attracted to it. This is a ridiculous
objection; for I have not claimed that what you do not know how to do does not happen,
but: what you do not know how to do is not your action; from which it follows at once
that we do not cause the motion of iron towards a magnet, but not that it does
not happen.—Others have objected: If I do not know how it is done, then it is not my
action, according to you; therefore, if I know how it is done, then it is my action. And
this is even more ridiculous; for a good physician, for example, may know how
some natural effect happens, which, however, not he himself but nature causes; and
a good painter may know how a certain picture may be executed, which, however,
not he himself but someone else will paint. This objection is no less inept than the
preceding one, and manifestly contains the fallacy of the Antecedent, as Logicians
term it. It is as if you were to argue thus: if it is not moved, it does not hasten; there-
fore, if it is moved, it hastens. Instead, one should argue thus (as Logicians demon-
strate): if it is not moved, it does not hasten; therefore, if it hastens, it is moved; and likewise:
if I do not know how to do it, then it is not my action; therefore, if it is my action, then I
know how to do it.—Others have objected that there are many things in our actions
of whose mode we are ignorant; for there are countless modes, countless respects,
dispositions, and arrangements in whatever is done by which it can affect other
things; countless modes in which it is related to other things. But neither is this
objection (although by no means a sophistry like the preceding ones) any more con-
vincing than the preceding ones; for one may easily respond that because we do
not know about every mode of what we do, not every mode is our action; we have
only so much of an effect as we know about, and no more. For example, suppose
someone ignorant of syllogistic figuration makes a syllogism; since he does not know
about the mode, it merely accompanies his action, and falls into the effect, it has
not been imposed by him on the effect; for who could impose on it something that
he was not cognisant of ? And so it is in everyday life, when we happen to have
said something in which there was some offence, though unaware of the mode in
which what we say is offensive, we do not cause offence; and we all understand
that the assistants of Architects, even though they may construct parts of the build-
ing, do not properly speaking cause the building itself, because they remain igno-
rant of the mode of the building (which is in the mind and idea of the Architect);
and so on.
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built the walls of Nineveh, or the Pyramids; you could say with equal
justification that you make the Sun rise and set for us all, and the
succession of days and nights, and of winter and summer. Why are
these not your actions, why are you conscious that they are not your
actions, if not because you do not know how to do them? This is
the first thing we usually say when we want to convince others most
forcefully that we have not done something: I do not understand how
it is done, I do not know how to do it. And similarly, you do not know
how motion can be communicated to your organs. When you will
something, you are conscious that it is not up to you, but to another.
Moreover, nothing could obscure from us the truth of the axiom
that I have just stated, if we did not labour under the prejudice that
we acquired in infancy, and which the various Schools of Philosophy
have confirmed and solidified. I mean, our conviction that natural
things act without knowing what they do and how they do it: for
example, that the Sun illuminates we interpret as making light; that
fire heats up we similarly interpret as making heat; that heavy things
fall, we interpret as causing their own descent and downward motion;
and all without knowing what they do and how they do it. But this
is just our blatant stupidity. Since we readily concede that those
things we do not know how to do are beyond our power (except in
that one case of the motion of our organs), it is remarkable that we
do not apply the same argument to these brute things. However,
those who have been initiated into true philosophy have learned with
complete conviction that it is not the Sun that makes light, nor fire
that makes heat, nor heavy bodies that cause their own descent, but
that it is a Mover who produces all these things locally and with-
out an intermediary, by impressing various motions on this or that
part of matter, and with these different motions and without any-
thing else intervening forms those various bodies (the sun, fire, stones,
etc.) and produces that great variety of effects for our senses, using
both these motions and the various parts of matter on which He
impresses them as if they were His instruments.* For even though
we see clearly enough that someone who does not know what he
does and how he does it is not the doer of it, we also clearly see
that an instrument of a maker can also be something that by nature
cannot understand what is done by itself or how it is done. Thus,
we may wonder at the impudence (if I may say so) of the Scholastics,
who enlisted natural things as efficient causes, when to account them
as mere instruments was enough to save the phenomena, that is, the
appearances of nature (which is the task of the philosopher); but we
should not wonder that with these fictions they deliberately rendered
obscure from themselves the God whom this principle: What you do
not know how to do, is not your action, immediately makes manifest.*
10. Without knowledge or consciousness we have to search out
how motion flows from the brain through the nerves into our organs.
We have gained knowledge of this only through experience, chiefly
that of Apoplectics and Paralytics. In Apoplectics, that is, in all those
in whom the brain is so seriously affected that the channel stretch-
ing from its recesses into the nerves has become obstructed, we see
that motion is suppressed internally, with respiration surviving only
to the extent of its dependence on the beating of the heart. Similarly,
in Paralytics, that is, in those who are unable to move some limb
of their body, such as the hand, Physicians have observed some
blocked channel, or obstructed or compressed nerve, which served
as the entrance for the inflow into the member, namely, the hand.
Everything that I have just instanced rests on experience, and on
nothing else. But since experience is necessarily posterior to the event
experienced, the event with which it is concerned, and presupposes
that it has already been accomplished, experience cannot be directed
to influence it. Therefore, experience is not the kind of knowledge
that serves for making the event happen, but serves at most for the
imitation and reproduction of a similar event. Since, then, we can
have only experience, and little enough of that, of how motion is
distributed in our body (that is, by descending from the brain into
the nerves, and through the nerves into our limbs and muscles), our
knowledge cannot make us into movers, that is, such knowledge is
not sufficient to make someone who is endowed with this knowledge
alone the author of motion.
11. Physicians and Anatomists teach that motion ascends from
our heart through the carotid arteries up to the brain. For that
source of heat which is in the heart agitates the blood of the heart,
and causes it as it were to bubble up. And the parts of this blood
that are more solid and more apt for motion, and minutely divided
* Quod nescis quomodo fiat, non facis: Geulincx’ so-called ‘axiom of metaphysics’.
228 annotations to the ETHICS
* Note that the term ‘[animal] spirits’ refers to a nervous fluid regulating muscular
action. Descartes expressly argued that there was nothing mentalistic about ‘these
very fine parts of the blood,’ which had ‘no property other than that of being ex-
tremely small bodies which move very quickly, like the jets of a flame that come
from a torch.’ René Descartes, Les Passions de l’Âme I, 10 and 47, AT XI, 334–335
and 365. Translation from CSM I, 333–334. Cf. idem, 346. Cartesian physiology
gained popularity in Leiden especially upon Florentius Schuyl’s publication of
Descartes’ Traité de l’homme as Renatus des Cartes De Homine Figuris et Latinitate Donatus
a Florentio Schuyl, Leiden: Franciscus Monardus and Petrus Leffen, 1662 and Leiden:
Hackiana, 1664.
annotations to the ETHICS 229
and through which consequently they act on us. We shall see that
the action of parts of the world also remains within those parts, and
can never touch us; and that while the motion of parts of the world
is sometimes channelled into us, for that reason it does not belong
to those parts of the world but to the one who channels it. Therefore,
the one who sometimes leads out our action and infuses it into parts
of the world is the one who likewise leads the action of those parts
into us; but we neither act on those things, nor do those things act
on us. Our action remains within us, and theirs within them; He,
the one who leads those actions in and out, is the one who really
acts, both on us and on them.
23. A brief recapitulation of what was said in paragraph 2, in
which the four regions of the world, and the inhabitants of each,
are touched upon. The intention there was to show us how much
of, and how, our action can affect them; the intention now is to
show us how much of, and how, their action can affect us.
24. Of course, they do not really have the qualities that I see in
them, nor can they have such qualities as I see in them (as is amply
demonstrated in my Physics and Metaphysics);* for the things placed
outside us have nothing beyond extension and motion. Yet I see in
them colours and light, sounds, and countless other likenesses and
appearances, and I persuade myself, unjustifiably, that the things I
see are such as I see them. But suppose they do have the qualities
I see in them; what need is there for me to see them? and the other
questions that follow in the text.
25. What is said here of the eyes can be said, with appropriate
changes, of the ears, the nose, and other sense-organs. But it is right
to mention the eyes before the other senses, for it is chiefly through
their participation that we inhabit the world. We experience by far
the majority of the parts of the world with our eyes, and would
know almost nothing of these things if we lacked the sense that has
its seat in the eyes. Hence also, those who are blind from birth
inhabit only a tiny part of the world in comparison with that vast
region extended above us, over which our eyes daily rove, of which
the blind have learned nothing. And when we tell them about the
Sun, the Moon, and the stars, and the vast heavens, and the clouds,
and their phenomena and colours, we are just intoning empty names,
signifying to them no more to any purpose than sisimandrum, sipolen-
drum, sincaptis, and the similar nonsense-words that the comic cook
in Plautus flings around to season his dishes.*
26. Add: nor that conformation. For a conformation is nothing other
than a certain shape in which the membranes and the fluids cohere
and are bound together. But that a shape, either as fluids or mem-
branes, does not see, is so obvious, so transparent to us from our
consciousness, that nothing clearer can be thought.
27. The most excellent fruit of the Inspection of Oneself is that
one correctly distinguishes oneself from one’s body: everything else
follows easily from this. Moreover, confusion of the notions of mind
and body is the sure and certain source of all sin, all impiety, and
Atheism. That distinction is here stressed succinctly and with the
utmost clarity: namely, that membranes, fluids, and their conforma-
tion (and that is what the eye is) do not see. I indeed see: there-
fore, they and I are not the same.
28. I mean, I do not see what they in themselves contribute to
the work of seeing. In fact, I see very clearly that in themselves and
by their nature they bring nothing to the work of seeing. For mem-
branes and fluids in any shape or form can contribute nothing more
towards seeing than a stick or stone, if we speak of the things them-
selves. In other respects it is undeniable, and observable by our con-
sciousness, that the eyes contribute to seeing, as is pointed out below
in this same paragraph. Accordingly, the eyes contribute to seeing
through the divine law and will, that is, God’s good pleasure. Just
because so many things that conduce to sustenance and pleasure can
be bought and obtained with gold, it does not mean that gold has
this power of itself, through its own force and energy. Whatever
power it has here it has through the institutions, laws, and customs
of men.
* Cf. Arnold Geulincx, Metaphysica Vera, Part 3, Scientiae 3, 4 and 5, Opera II,
188–191 and 286–291/Metaphysics, 97–105.
†
For Geulincx’ views on scepticism, see also: Metaphysica Vera, Introduction, Section
2, Opera II, 140–146/Metaphysics, 21–27.
annotations to the ETHICS 237
* Cf. Arnold Geulincx, Physica Vera, Opera II, 368 ff. and the references in the
footnote to page 234, above.
†
Cf. Arnold Geulincx, Metaphysica Vera, Part 1, Opera II, 147–157 and 267–271/
Metaphysics, 29–46.
238 annotations to the ETHICS
* The Latin word here is pensum, a word which Beckett uses frequently in The
Unnamable.
240 annotations to the ETHICS
* Viz., ‘to adhere to the things my Master once ordered’ rather than ‘to what
he orders now.’ See the main text, page 36, above.
annotations to the ETHICS 241
* Cf. Arnold Geulincx, Metaphysica Vera, Part 1, Opera II, 147–157 and 267–271/
Metaphysics, 29–46. Beckett makes use of this word, which was coined by Geulincx,
on a number of occasions, for example in Murphy, The Unnamable, and in a letter
to Georges Duthuit of 1949 which is published in S.E. Gontarski and Anthony
Uhlmann (eds.), Beckett after Beckett, Gainesville Fl: University Press of Florida, 2006.
242 annotations to the ETHICS
nature, and making him the kin of sheep and cattle, are reprehen-
sible; since it has now been made very clear to us by the foregoing
Inspection that man by no means belongs to the natural order, to
the world, and to its parts, but that his condition must be referred
absolutely to the order of miracles.
52. Add, or rather preface: that I came upon this scene unconscious,
ignorant, and unwilling; in case, I mean, the third part of the Inspection
(which is concerned with my birth) should seem to have been left
out. And the fourth part of the human condition, that is, death, or
departure from this condition, begins in this tenth article.
53. The human condition, as I have frequently said, has two parts,
action and passion. Action begins with us, and is originally within
us, in fact is ours; but it ends in the body, and when it finally gets
outside us is by no means ours but God’s. But our passion (which
is the action of other things on us) begins from things placed out-
side us, and originally is not ours; but it ends in us, and is finally
within us, and is ours.
The Argument of § 2
It is as if the human condition has four parts: firstly, the action
with which we move our body, and with our body as an interme-
diary, other bodies; secondly, the passion with which we receive an
image of parts of the world when we apply our sight, our hearing,
and our other senses to them; as the third part, there is our birth,
or our first coming into this state and condition; the fourth part
being death, or our departure from this condition.
And we learn by inspecting ourselves that we can do nothing
about any part of the human condition, we have no power, and no
rights over it; that it is all down to someone else’s power.
For as regards the first part: we have no power to affect either
our own or any other body; this is perfectly obvious from our con-
sciousness alone, and no sane man would deny it. This covers para-
graphs 2 and 3.
Nor do we move even our own body; we do not know how to
move it, and if we did know, that knowledge would contribute noth-
ing towards moving it. This covers paragraph 4.
Much less do we move other bodies. This covers paragraph 5.
From this it follows that we can do nothing outside ourselves; for
if we did anything outside ourselves, it would have to happen through
motion. This covers paragraph 6.
244 annotations to the ETHICS
9
Note that this axiom includes both parts of humility, I mean, inspection and
disregard. Wherein you have no power; we read in this the inspection of oneself (for by
this inspection of ourselves we learn with perfect clarity that we have absolutely no
power over our human condition and its individual parts, that is, we cannot con-
tribute anything with regard to these things; whether they are this way, or that, or
not at all). Therein you should not will; we read in this the other part of humility, that
is, disregard of oneself, or neglect of oneself across the whole human condition, and
resigning ourselves into the power of His hand, in which we are, indeed, whether
we like it or not.
annotations to the ETHICS 245
out of our body, orders us to die. Let consciousness of our evil deeds
not detain us; let us come all the more promptly, and by how much
less we obeyed His law formerly, by so much more let us obey it
now. For if we were formerly less than obedient to His law, now it
must be obeyed for certain. This time we shall not get another
chance to obey, at least in the same, that is, human condition.
3. With a truly virtuous man there is no delay when he is sum-
moned by his God. He holds it to be of no importance whether he
is to get a beating or not; he has learned that it is a matter not for
him, but for his master, and that wherein he has no power, therein
neither does he will. To punish and reward are for God, not for us;
it is for us to put up with whatever He will do. If we do otherwise
we manifestly fall away from the second part of humility, we fall
into care of ourselves, into self-love.
4. There is great wickedness in this evasion, and I do not know
whether it is not greater even than self-destruction. For which of the
servants is more gravely delinquent, he who comes unsummoned, or
he who does not come when he is summoned? You may perhaps
say that the latter has sinned more gravely; and rightly, it would
appear. As for the former kind of wickedness, Christians indeed
rightly execrate it, and their magistrates inflict public infamy on the
corpses of suicides; but they do not seem to give enough weight to
the offence of evading death, and desiring a long life. It is indeed
common for most of us to die reluctantly, but that does not make
it any less wicked: a multiplicity of sinners does not make sins lighter,
but rather aggravates them, if anything.
5. One should understand this as an intention, not a prediction:
I intend from the bottom of my heart that I will not give up the
ghost out of disgust with life and the miseries of man’s lot; but what
I am actually going either to do or not do, God alone knows.
6. The suggestion here is that to obey this Obligation it is sufficient
to have a mind firmly inclined, and a firm intention to come when
God calls; and that there is no requirement for the pleasure and
facility which we usually feel when our passions conspire with the
inclination of our mind and have a propensity for the very same
thing towards which the intentions of our mind are going. For the
most part here the passions resist; but that conflict does not inter-
fere in any way with the inclination of our mind if it holds this
firmly enough: to obey God, however difficult and calamitous it may
seem.
annotations to the ETHICS 247
The Argument of § 4
The axiom, Wherein I have no power, therein I do not will, embraces
both parts of Humility: I have no power denotes Inspection of Oneself,
I do not will denotes Disregard of Oneself. But I have no power over
death, that is, my departure from the world; I can neither defer nor
delay it (than which nothing is more evident to me through my con-
sciousness, nothing more certain than my daily experience of the
deaths of others); therefore I shall will nothing here. I cannot defer
death, not even on account of consciousness of my sins; for this
would be nothing but to add this sin (the one which consists in
neglect of this Obligation) to the others.
I believed that I move myself, I did not grasp this sufficiently, for I
believed that I could thrust a dagger into myself, that I could stab
myself in the heart. But when I inspected myself I came to under-
stand that this is false. Hence, since I cannot move myself, if I can
destroy myself at all my only recourse is for me to destroy myself
by willpower alone. But that I cannot separate myself from this body
by willpower alone is so clear to me through my consciousness that
nothing clearer could be said or represented to me.
3. A wicked persuasion, and the seedbed of almost every kind of
wickedness in this life. Instead of understanding that life is directed
towards our Obligation, men believe that it is a kind of interest (a
term that they so often use, miserably deceived, and perhaps also
deceiving others) paid for convenience and pleasure; so that there-
after they do everything out of pleasure in life and horror of death.
Things that were right for their office (such as to refresh the body,
to recreate the mind, to acquire a skill, to seek sustenance, and so
on) are diverted by this evil end into sin. If only they could see that
they cannot cut short their present life any more than they can con-
fer life on themselves, then they might at last see that the whole of
their present life must be directed towards their Obligation, and they
must apply to it in all its parts (that is, with regard to entering or
ending life sooner or later, at birth and at death) the Ethical prin-
ciple: I have no power, I do not will; I leave everything to God, to
whom it is due.
4. Since I cannot act outside myself, which is obvious from my
inspection of myself, the whole of my action, which is within me,
must consist of either knowing or willing; and it is quite certain and
evident that neither of these has any power to release me from my
body. For it does not follow either that if I know about death I
must therefore die (which is absolutely self-evident), or that if I desire
death I shall therefore die merely by being resolved (which is also
absolutely evident from the qualification by being resolved ). But men
do not see that they are always resolved; so that, even if the
qualification is removed in words, its force and power must neces-
sarily still remain. For after I have willed I am necessarily merely
resolved, and it is upon my willing that my action is consummated.
The fact that sometimes after I have willed, motion follows in my
body, is not due to me, and it is not to be accounted my action,
but God’s, as we saw quite clearly from the inspection of ourselves.
annotations to the ETHICS 249
* See also Geulincx’ use of this image in Annotation 19 on page 232, above.
250 annotations to the ETHICS
because God in His ineffable wisdom knew how to enact such laws
of motion that, independently of my will and power, a certain motion
corresponds exactly with my free will: see the Annotation I made
earlier to the analogy of the two clocks.* Therefore, the analogy of
the baby and his mother on the one hand, and of God and me on
the other hand, is a lame one; and not in one sense only, as I have
already observed in my Annotation (God makes motion, the mother
does not make it; the baby moves his mother to move, I do not
move God). But the whole force and energy of the analogy turn on
this, that just as the motion or rocking of the cradle is made with
the baby willing it, though the motion is not made by the baby, so
equally, motion is often made with me willing it, though I never
make it.
8. The whole nature of sin consists in this alone, and I mean only
in this sense, in the sense of sic-se-habentia (as the Scholastics call it):
as much as it lies with me, I resist the Divine will; for there is no ques-
tion of anyone absolutely resisting His will.† Thus, as much as it lies
with us, we can come unsummoned when we destroy ourselves, but
then, absolutely speaking, we come anyway, because God wills us
to come. Similarly, as much as it lies with us, we do not come,
though summoned, when on the point of death we still wish to live,
even if an unexpected remission is granted to us; but in the absolute
sense the reason we do not come is that God does not will us to
come. And so the whole nature of all sin is summed up in this: as
much as it lies with me, I do otherwise than God wills; though in the
absolute sense I never do otherwise. Just as the wickedness of the
dwarf does not consist in that he would wrest the club from Hercules’
hand, or try to reach it, but that, as much as it lies with him, he
would wrest it, or wish to do something towards wresting it. Hence,
even if Hercules were to let go the club himself, the wickedness, stu-
pidity, and ineptness of the dwarf are still implied.
9. This is the first point of the proposition: I will not preoccupy
myself with death on account of other men’s hatred of me. This is
contrary to the opinion of Seneca, who believes that men’s hatreds
and slanders can be so great that it is therefore allowable to turn
* Cf. ibidem.
†
For Geulincx’ argumentation in this matter, see also the passage on God and
reason in Chapter 1, § 2, [2], above, as well as the image of walking on a sailing
ship in Annotation 9 to the same passage.
annotations to the ETHICS 251
when there is greater danger from living in misery than from dying quickly, it
is stupid not to redeem at the cost of a little time the risk of great interest.*
And a little later: I will not relinquish old age if as a whole it will be of
benefit to me; but if it begins to disorder my wits, if it begins to cause my
organs to fail, if it relieves me not of my life but of my soul, I will escape
from this decayed and dilapidated structure.† The cause of this most per-
nicious error is that he did not sufficiently perceive that life is sub-
ject to one’s office and obligation; and that (as all the vulgar are
persuaded) he believed that life is concerned with enjoyment, and
with interest (the very word that Cicero uses in this connection) paid
to us for a certain time for our convenience and well-being.‡ It is
not surprising, then, that he believed he could forego the benefit
when it became too hard for him to obtain it. But it is indeed quite
clear from the preceding, as well as from what follows later, that
life is not like interest paid to us (which would be concerned with
the convenience of him who has received interest or a loan), but
that it is rather an Obligation imposed on us, which is not for the
convenience of the obligate, but looks to duty and office.
13. Someone will perhaps say: even if our life is concerned with
Obligation, and not like a loan or some enjoyment or interest of
ours, this Obligation is not, however, so strict that we are required
to preserve life at the cost of such great inconveniences to ourselves
as have just been recorded in the text. For we are also obliged to
preserve the life of a parent, but if it is the case that my life is in
danger equally with my father’s life, and a stark choice has to be
made (for example, we are both drowning), if I cannot save my
father’s life without perishing myself (for example, by giving up to
him a plank of wood in a shipwreck), then it will be allowable for
me to abandon my father and take care of my own life by retain-
ing for myself the plank of wood that I have seized hold of. Thus,
the Obligation to preserve the life of my father ceases at this point,
and I am not obliged to preserve it at such great inconvenience and
at the cost of sure and certain loss of my own life; and therefore
the Obligation to preserve my own life amidst so many and such
great inconveniences can likewise be terminated. I reply: This seems
to be roughly the opinion of Seneca; but you should note that no
* In Part 4, Section 2 of the Logica fundamentis suis restituta (1662), Geulincx dis-
cusses Reason and reasoning in terms of producing valid and satisfying answers to
a Why?-question. Cf. Opera I, 421 ff.
256 annotations to the ETHICS
required for the preservation of life), nor will there be any Obligation
to choose a mode of life (for this is chosen in order that sustenance
may be obtained), nor will there be any Obligation to do and to
bear many things (for we do and bear them in order that our mode
of life may be productive and afford us sustenance), nor will there
be any Obligation to relax the mind (for the mind must be relaxed
in order that we may be ready for the doing and bearing). See how
each Obligation collapses, and in their place mere lust descends on
us: now we shall no longer do those things unless it pleases us, since
we are not obliged to do them; and so we shall do them if it pleases
us, otherwise we shall not do them.
22. It is wonderful with what spirit, with what ferocity, and with
what inhumanity Seneca hammers out this teaching of his in so
many places; and how he praises Cato and sundry others who in
violation of God’s commands and led by personal predilections laid
impious hands on themselves. See his Treatise on Providence and
his Epistles 58, 70, etc. And it is no less wonderful how he bases
his teaching on no foundation of argument, as will emerge in what
follows.
23. With these selfsame words he gives evidence that he does not
wish to acquire Obligation (seeing, as if through a cloud, amidst the
turmoil of his affections, how it does not suit his teaching). But hav-
ing gone overboard for freedom (that false and hollow freedom), he
seeks only to dissolve and demolish all office and Obligation.
24. It was proclaimed by the Stoics (something at which every
sound mind shudders) that the virtuous man is the equal of God,
and in fact, in many respects is superior to God. For example, while
God is necessarily good, the virtuous man is not; while God is good
without having to suffer evils, the virtuous man must conquer and
overcome evils; and many things in similar vein.*
25. This is a summary of his argument: since God has granted
at all times and in every place that there should be so many and
such readily available exits from this life, it does not seem that he
would want a virtuous man to be detained here amidst the more
* A general reference to the Stoic idea of human perfectibility and ‘divinity’ may
be found in Diogenes Laertius, Vitae Philosophorum VII, 119. Seneca mentions the
possibility of a human likeness to God in De Providentia Chapter 1, § 5, and argues
that man may even surpass God in De Providentia Chapter 6, § 6. The editors wish
to thank Ruben Buys for these references.
annotations to the ETHICS 257
power to induce him to lay down his life it is never less than great
and impressive. Causes have never been great but in the estimation
of certain persons, and in the judgements and persuasions to which
they gave rise. For what is the case? You are bereft of goods and
possessions, despised, and treated with the utmost possible contempt:
should you reckon it to be a grave cause, one that gives you the
right to reject life? You will find people who laugh at such things,
play the fool, and
The important thing is, it still remains for Seneca frankly to make
an admission, namely, that anyone who slays himself has done it
rightly for whatever reason he has done it; and that he reduces
everything to lust, since it pleases him to depart when it does not
please him to stay. The pretext of this argument, which he recom-
mends to anyone who is to depart, is nothing but a pretext, and
the matter comes down simply to this, that when it pleases you to
live, you can live, when it does not please you, you can die; which
are almost the very words of Seneca in his 70th Epistle: It pleases
you? Live. It does not please you? Then you can return whence you came.†
31. Not by corporeal fetters, which (as you have just seen from
Seneca) they can easily shuffle off. Hence, the whole difficulty for
them is how to shuffle off the divine law, which, since they cannot
shuffle it off, they equally do not wish to shuffle off. And so the
argument that depended on the ability to break out of those fetters
falls down.
32. That is, to be captive, or bound, and to be free and released.
In the virtuous man there is no conflict, as he has realised that he
cannot be free otherwise than in the service of God and His law.
See the Annotations I made earlier to the Fruit of Obedience.
33. It would certainly have been more convenient for Seneca to
have given God the role of jailer rather than commander. For he
would have looked better saying: I have let you out of prison, opened
all your windows and vents, and unshackled you: if it does not please
you to remain here, you can depart. But when he makes God speak
like a commander, it is nonsense; and since he cannot make God
The Argument of § 5
The Second Obligation is, not to depart this life unless God has
summoned you. For wherein I have no power, I must not will; but
I have no power to depart this life, and therefore I must not will
it. This covers paragraph 1.
Indeed, I have been wont to believe that I have power in this;
but since I cannot by willpower alone release myself from the body,
and the required motion, over which I have no jurisdiction, has to
be supplied from outside, I understand plainly that I was mistaken.
This covers paragraph 2.
Hence, I firmly hold to this: no affliction will be so great as to
lead me to wish to give up my life; no happiness so great as to per-
suade me to wish to hold on to my life; the decision will rest with
the law of God. This covers paragraph 3.
This Obligation is practically the foundation for the others: any-
one who shakes it overturns the whole of Ethics. He also discharges
all office onto desire; for he lives because it pleases him, he eats that
he may live, he works that he may eat, and so on. Hence, everything,
from first to last, is driven by desire. This covers paragraph 4.
Seneca objects, wanting to be free to depart this life because it is
easy to depart, especially if calamity urges departure. This covers
paragraph 5.
But above all, not only is it is not easy for us, it is impossible.
And even though I have to grant that, according to the common
way of speaking, it is easy, it does not follow that one should do it,
262 annotations to the ETHICS
since many things that should never be done are easy. Incidentally,
we see here the simplicity of the human mind, and that there are
no parts to be found in us, inasmuch as we are clearly conscious
that whatever happens within us is the subject of one and the same
thing; but the same thing, as such, is simple. This covers paragraph 6.
10
In fact, they believe an Obligation to exist because of the task prescribed in
the Obligation; and that it makes no difference how the task is performed. Hence,
their understanding being that the task that is contained in the Obligation, whether
* Treatise I, Chapter II, Section II, § 12 has only two parts, neither of which
deals with the subject of our obligations beyond death. However, the idea that
no-one besides God has “gained the summit of things” does occur in Treatise I,
Chapter II, Section II, § 11, [3], as well as in Annotation 6 to that same passage.
annotations to the ETHICS 263
fattening up their bodies. But they should know that giving time to
something that is prescribed by this Obligation is not giving time to
the Obligation itself, or following what God commands, but is neglect-
ing that very command; for they are motivated not by the imperative
of the command but by their desire to do what is contained in the
command.
3. In their treatises on diet Physicians prescribe moderation. For
instance, Hippocrates advises one to rise from the table while still
hungry, and likewise to give over drinking while still thirsty, and to
give over sleeping and get up while still a little drowsy.* For we are
apt to feel later on that we did not need to eat, drink, or sleep any
more, when after a short interval of time we no longer feel hungry,
it is eating, drinking, recreating the mind etc., is sufficiently performed even if the
Obligation is absent (for they are sufficiently impelled to it by natural desire), they
can hardly fail to see the Obligation as anything but trifling and superfluous. And
they have almost all fallen into this prejudice because they believe the Obligation
to be similar to their desires, and refer an Obligation mostly to the desire of Him
who has imposed the Obligation on us, that is, God; and desires are fulfilled no
matter how what they have urged to be fulfilled is fulfilled. Thus, if drink is set
before someone who is thirsty, riches set before an avaricious man, and so on, how
it is done, whether rightly or wrongly, has nothing to do with the thirst or the
avarice itself. There are thirsty or avaricious people who may wish to satisfy their
thirst or avarice without any great offence; but this relates to their other desires, it
does not affect their thirst or avarice in itself, which is aimed solely at drink or
riches.† So also, men began to think of an Obligation (chiefly because they refer it,
quite perversely to God’s desire) that it is enough if the task is done; and that,
accordingly, if it is to be fulfilled by other means, there is no point in the Obligation
that He imposes. But this is very wrong, for God and Reason hardly require our
cooperation; in fact, they do not in the strict sense impose any task on us. If the
task itself is beyond our power, it is also beyond our Obligation; it envisages an
outcome that has never been prescribed. God is therefore content with our spirit
and intention alone. But He also requires this, He imposes this on us, that if a task
is done which an Obligation seemed to indicate, then it is hardly enough if it is
done without any intention of obeying Divine Law. Hence, the task itself is noth-
ing; it can fail to be discharged even though you are virtuous (when, that is, your
intention of doing what was contained in the Obligation is frustrated of an out-
come), and it can be discharged even though you are vicious (that is, when you
perform a task without any intention of following Divine Law). Therefore, these
Obligations order us not simply to perform a task, but also to have an intention
of performing it because God has ordered it.
death). For this reason, it was not inapposite to say something here
about procreation.
6. These things really relate to paragraph 1; but because there is
a lengthy parenthesis in the middle of paragraph 2, it is convenient
to add that “however” after the digression as a warning that we are
returning to the course from which we had digressed.
7. That is, lest I should preoccupy myself so much with refresh-
ing my body that as a result I forget to preoccupy myself with the
refreshment of my body in order that I may live—but live because
God has commanded me to live. In brief, I shall eat in order to
live, not live in order to eat.
8. The House of Virtue, once erected, rests on humility, or aban-
donment of oneself. Accordingly, when I eat, I shall eat not for
myself (having abandoned myself ), but that I may live. However, I
shall not leave it at that, lest perchance I find again that self which
I have so happily lost. I shall henceforth live because God has ordered
it, and so be forever passing myself by as I hurry on towards God
with my whole heart and mind.
9. For this would imply that I follow this Obligation for my own
sake. If I am anxious to obtain the wherewithal to nourish myself,
it is not then an Obligation, that is, the law of God, that bids me
nourish myself, and which is the reason why I nourish myself, but
pleasure in life, or something else of that kind, which I derive from
myself. If my Obligation is to be the reason why I nourish myself,
I should not be distressed when the wherewithal to eat is not to be
found, seeing that no-one is duty-bound to the impossible, as the
common saying has it. In such a case I would have to assume that
this Obligation has lapsed, and that in its stead another Obligation
has arisen, to whit, the Obligation of dying. But it is of no concern
to someone who is led by Obligation alone (and it is behovely to
be led by this alone if we would be virtuous) whether he preoccu-
pies himself with this rather than that Obligation, just as a good ser-
vant who is ordered, say, to make a bed regards it of no concern
of his if he is interrupted and ordered to be about something else,
say, to carry a message somewhere; for a good servant is motivated
solely by the will and commands of his master.
10. The Passions are not within our power (as will be shown later
in the special Treatise on the Passions). Thus, disquiet, anxiety, fear,
and similar passions, which are forever making man tremble at the
prospect of destitution and the other afflictions of life’s approaching
266 annotations to the ETHICS
end that threaten him, are subject to the order of nature, and are
outside the scope of morals, with neither virtue nor vice being
involved. But to do or not do anything on account of passions (that
is, to cite, and maintain them, as reasons) relates wholly to vice.
Therefore, when passions occur, we must do what is said in the text,
and perform as much as is within our competence, follow what
Reason dictates, be careless of anything else, and regard those pas-
sions as of no account, at least so far as the intention of the mind
is concerned, that is, beware assiduously lest they present us with a
reason for doing or not doing anything, reserving the whole thing
to Reason by right and power.
11. Many hypocritically pious folk seize on this as an excuse for
their disobedience. When God summons me, they say, I would will-
ingly die, I would willingly obey, and I do not trouble about myself.
But what of my wife, who will be a widow? What of my children,
who will be fatherless? However, such folk lie brazenly when they
say that they do not trouble about themselves; for they trouble about
things that are theirs, and theirs presupposes themselves. In this sense,
they trouble a great deal about themselves, and, as I said, are look-
ing here only for an excuse. Why do they not trouble about the
widow and fatherless children of anyone else who is dying ? Only
because here there is no trace of the self whom they had found else-
where, and have loved ever since.
12. Here I take to task the second excuse resorted to by hypo-
critically pious or over-anxious folk, namely: I would willingly leave
life and come to God when He summons me, but my sins stand in
the way, and I would want first to wash them away through peni-
tence. In this we again hear the sound of manifest self-love and eva-
sion of divine law; for if you have abandoned yourself (as you ought
to have done), why are you so anxious about the manner of your
reception?
13. Among Philosophies, the opinion of Pythagoras has by far the
most resemblance to the truth, namely, that when we die, we are
transfused into another body. But it is only opinion and speculation,
not science, Reason being profoundly silent on it: and only the rev-
elation of God in Holy Scripture can tell us anything about it. And
because it is opinion, it is unworthy of a philosopher, for to believe
(that is, to opine, to conceive and cherish opinions) is not for the
Wise Man (not for the sage or philosopher), as the well-known saying
annotations to the ETHICS 267
* Putare non est Sapientis: Latin saying of unknown origin. Plato presented right
opinion as an intermediate stage between true judgement and ignorance. See, e.g.,
Symposium, 202 a.
268 annotations to the ETHICS
The Argument of § 6
The Third Obligation concerns the need to refresh the body. It
arises from the Second Obligation; for if you do not refresh the
body, it will fail; which the Second Obligation forbids. This covers
paragraph 1.
A digression respecting the Obligation to procreate, undertaken
on account of an analogy with the Third Obligation. This covers
paragraph 2.
Anxiety is banned by the performance of this Obligation; for anx-
iety has no place in one who seeks only his office and Obligations.
For if he cannot fulfil an Obligation, then that Obligation thereby
expires, and is superseded by another Obligation; but either is equally
welcome to someone who seeks Obligation only insofar as it is
Obligation. This covers paragraph 3.
An objection is raised to the Third Obligation on the basis of the
Ethical principle, Wherein you have no power, etc. For it seems that we
have no power over the refreshment of the body either. I reply, that
the Ethical principle, Wherein you have no power, etc., does not suffice
if one does not assent to God, and cooperate with Him in what He
Himself has ordained. This covers paragraph 4.
is often the case that men who are cultivated and ingenious from
much learning are destitute and miserable, sad and afflicted. For
since they possess an agile and versatile intelligence with which they
can succeed in many different ways, they easily fall prey to bore-
dom with their present state, and expectation of another state to
come. But against this, the mind must be steadfast, and fixed in the
sure state which God has given it, by resting in, and keeping before
its eyes that Dutch saying of ours: Twelve professions, thirteen misfortunes
(twaelf ambachten, dertien ongelucken). In general, it is better here to be
stubborn, and to cling to one’s state, than to wander airily from one
state to another.
2. We see in all these Obligations a certain justice, warning us in
the strongest terms to beware both of what is excessive and what is
defective. Therefore, because we must live for God’s law, we must
will ourselves to live as much as God ordains it; no more (like those
who sin against the First Obligation, and do not want to return
when God summons them), and no less (like those who sin against
the Second Obligation, and by doing away with themselves come,
insofar as it falls to them, before they are summoned). So also,
because we must eat in order to live, Justice again comes into play,
dictating that we should eat neither more nor less than suffices to
go on living; and again, because we must seek a state of life in which
we may eat, Justice dictates that we should not affect a greater or
lesser state than that requires. If anyone does more or less than this,
he does it in order to satisfy his desire; for that more and that less
pass beyond his Obligation, and accordingly look to the desire of
the operator, or Obligate, who does either more, or less, because it
pleases him, and not because the law dictates it.
3. Here we see how the second part of Justice is served in these
Obligations: for whereas paragraph 2 prescribed ‘nothing in excess’,
this paragraph 3 prescribes ‘not too little’.
4. In choosing a mode of life, we must take into account the
robustness of our body, our wits, and our spirit; for we have to judge
on the basis of these which mode of life we are best fitted for, as
is explained by the examples cited here.
5. Anxiety is the most frequent obstacle to this Obligation; for
men are anxious about how to obtain sustenance (the means to which
being all subject to this Obligation, which prescribes what kind of
life is to be chosen to earn our living). Anxiety is sometimes also
involved in other Obligations, but mostly by accident; as when the
272 annotations to the ETHICS
dying get anxious, first about the families they are leaving behind,
and then about themselves, whom they know will continue to exist
when divested of their body, understanding that in the course of
nature they are to receive condign punishment in respect of things
not well done while they were here. But in the strict sense there is
no anxiety about the Second Obligation, for it is an end that men
are accustomed to appoint for themselves; and in this there is in the
strict sense no anxiety about the end, only about the means that are
to be employed to the end. There is usually no anxiety about the
Third Obligation either, for we are not usually anxious about eat-
ing (which is subject to the Third Obligation), only about having
the wherewithal to eat, and that it suffices for our consumption
(which properly is subject to the Fourth Obligation). Note also, that
anxiety is of two kinds, namely, anxiety-that, and anxiety-lest. Anxiety-
that is anxiety about pursuing something through its means (such as
anxiety about this Obligation, namely, that it suffices for our con-
sumption); anxiety-lest is anxiety about the First Obligation, in which
we are anxious lest our own affairs, as we depart this life, are in a
bad state, and we ourselves, moving into another state, may be pun-
ished, as we deserve.
6. This abolishes all anxiety; for it is impossible that I should wish
to obey God, yet still be anxious (understand this as touching the
inclination of the mind; for we can still be anxious about passions),
because when I cannot fulfil a Divine Obligation, there is nothing
bad about this, it is harmless, it is of no consequence. It follows only
that, when one Obligation expires, I will have to devote myself to
another Obligation in a similarly honest and virtuous way, as in the
case of the preceding Obligation.
The Argument of § 7
This Obligation involves the following four elements: 1. Choice of
mode of life; 2. Devotion to this mode of life; 3. Constancy in this
mode of life; 4. The vicissitudes of this mode of life. As to Choice,
justice must be served by taking up a mode of life that is neither
greater nor less than is required for sustenance (for the rationale of
this Obligation depends on the Third Obligation); and this is the
first part of Justice, which consists in squaring the mode of life with
the Third Obligation. The second part of justice consists in squaring
the mode of life with the person who takes it up, by choosing the
mode of life that his wits, his spirit, and his body are best fitted for.
annotations to the ETHICS 273
The Argument of § 8
To bear many things, to do many things; for sometimes I cannot
find a mode of life that is productive and affords me sustenance.
I consider four instances in which difficulties may arise. First, in
the mode of life of a learned man (in which study and a thousand
tediums have to be endured, and which is subject to envy and crit-
icism); second, in the mode of life of a magistrate (in which there
are nocturnal sessions, cares, and the ingratitude and fury of the vul-
gar over all these); third, in a humble and downtrodden mode of
life (where there is contempt, poverty, and a harsh, daily grind);
fourth, in the vicissitudes of one’s mode of life (where the strange
and the unaccustomed disturb and alarm, afflicting the mind with
a thousand anxieties). In the midst of all these the mind has to stay
calm.
* Quidquid agunt homines, intentio judicat omnes: Latin saying of unknown origin. It
also occurs with the alternative ending—intentio salvat omnes.
†
Aristotle, Ethica Nicomachea V, 2, 1130 a 24–1130 a 28.
276 annotations to the ETHICS
refresh himself but, strictly speaking, to obey God, just as, when a
merchant casts his merchandise into the sea, he is said not so much
to do this as to save himself.
11. Since the first objection turned above all on the assertion that,
with the Sixth Obligation in place, virtuous men and vicious men
do not differ from one another (to which the reply is that they differ
in the formal sense, that is, as to intention, which is like the form
of the moral act, even though in the material sense they may often
not differ much; and that they differ in the material sense as to
external actions and operations, which are like the matter of the
moral act in question). But this next objection, as is shown, turns
above all on the assertion that, with the Sixth Obligation in place,
the mark by which we can distinguish between virtuous men and
vicious men disappears. And to this second objection a threefold
reply is made. First, that it matters little if we cannot distinguish
between virtuous men and vicious men; second, that even with this
Sixth Obligation removed, we would find it equally difficult to dis-
tinguish between virtuous men and vicious men; third, and last, that
with the Sixth Obligation in place, we can still to some extent dis-
tinguish between virtuous men and vicious men, because though they
often do the same, they still do it differently.
12. Note that the first part of the reply begins like this, namely,
that it does not matter if we cannot distinguish between virtuous
men and vicious men; we should be satisfied that we ourselves are
virtuous. Hence, those who are inordinately anxious whether those
with whom they are dealing are virtuous or vicious are probably not
altogether virtuous themselves: you do not need such advisement in
order to perform your office.
13. Note the second part of the reply, namely, that with the Sixth
Obligation removed, we would not find it any easier to choose
between virtuous men and vicious men, inasmuch as the latter usu-
ally know well how to affect austerity and dislike of recreation.
14. Note the third part of the reply, namely, that we can indeed
distinguish between virtuous men and vicious men; for even though
they may do the same, they still do it differently.
The Argument of § 9
The Argument of the Sixth Obligation is included in paragraph 5
of the text.
annotations to the ETHICS 277
11
In fact, I have already spoken of them near the beginning of my Aristotelian
Metaphysics, as also in my Annotations to the Principles of the most illustrious Descartes.*
* I.e., Treatise I, Chapter II, Section II, § 2, [12]. The original carries a mis-
taken reference to “paragraph 22”.
†
In Treatise V of Physica Vera, Geulincx explains in purely Cartesian terms how
the hypothesis of motion being imparted upon matter leads to the formation of the
physical universe. The last Treatise on the “Microcosm” discusses the particular
body that we regard as our own and by means of which we receive the impres-
sions of other bodies. Cf. Opera II, 428–439 and 440–446, respectively. It is in his
Metaphysica Vera that Geulincx argues that it is by making use of the various impres-
sions on our bodies that God occasions the variety of sensations we experience. Cf.
Metaphysica Vera, Part 1, “Scientia” 6–10, and Annotations, in Opera II, 150–155
and 268–271/Metaphysics, 36–43, and idem, Preface, 7–19.
‡
Cf. Arnold Geulincx, Physica Vera, Treatise VI, § 9, Opera II, 446.
annotations to the ETHICS 279
but it seems most likely that it arises from the fact that we are dis-
tracted by our sensations in such a variety of ways. As a result, the
dictate of the mind is as it were blotted out and erased, and the
spirit does not pay sufficient attention to it. But these matters will
be clarified when I come to speak of the Passions.* See also my
Annotations on Descartes, especially Part I, § 71.†
8. Nothing is more common with the vulgar than to pray to God
to make things better for them; and what is this but to want God
to serve them? As we shall see in Treatise IV, when we come to
deal with Piety, it is reasonable to pray to God to supply us with
the faculties we need in order to nourish ourselves and survive; but
we must not leave it at that. The right reason for praying to God
is not in order that we may nourish ourselves and survive, but in
order that by nourishing ourselves and surviving, we may do what
He has commanded us, He who has commanded us to survive, and
to remain here until he releases us. And so it is never permissible
to pray to God for any reason other than that we may fulfil the
Obligations that He has imposed on us. These matters are clarified
in Treatise II.‡
9. Namely, I am always conscious that my mind is not stable in
its intention to serve God and fulfil its Obligations. For all the things
that are known to my consciousness are equally well-known, being
known in the highest possible degree, that is, exceedingly well-known.
There is, no doubt, a certain order in the things that present them-
selves to my consciousness; but none of them has any greater clar-
ity than any other. See Part I of my Metaphysics.§
10. I have spoken of our afflictions: I now enquire into their
causes. Three causes are considered: the first of them Platonic, the
second, Christian, and the third, coming from an unknown person,
though it may be ascribed to the very author of this Treatise. These
causes are considered in a tentative manner, inasmuch as to enquire
When ruinous gambling is the old man’s pleasure, his youthful heir also
plays, handling his weapon as if shaking a little dice-box: such is
nature’s course.‡
There is no support of this kind for Plato, who says that we have
all sinned on our own account before we were cast into the prison-
house of our bodies to be punished.
14. This is the third reply, which indeed does not adduce the
cause that the question demands, but overturns the question itself.
For the question was: whence these afflictions? I reply, that they are
* Cf. Plato, Phaedo, 81 b–82 b, 107 b–107 d, and Phaedrus, 248 c–249 b.
†
The idea that original sin involves character traits handed down by parents to
their children is by no means the standard Christian interpretation. According to
the seventeenth-century Calvinist authority Gisbertus Voetius (1589–1676) for instance,
original sin is not a genetic defect passed down from one generation to the next,
but rather a form of corruption universal to the human race on account of the
obscurity of the understanding and the undisciplined and rebellious character of the
will. Cf. Gisbertus Voetius and Samuel Lydius [respondens], De Propagatione Peccati
Originalis, an academic disputation defended at Utrecht University on 2 July 1636,
in Gisbertus Voetius, Disputationes Selectae, Part 1, Utrecht: Johannes a Waesberge,
1648, 1078–1118. Note, however, that Geulincx himself brought up the theologi-
cally complex notion of the corruption of the will as something that “has a rather
more obscure source” in Annotation 7, above, and that he further discusses the
corruption of the will in Annotation 15, below.
‡
Juvenal, Saturae XIV, 4–5 and 31. On the question of the Christian interpre-
tation of original sin, see also the former footnote.
annotations to the ETHICS 281
26. I allude here to the Third, Fourth, Fifth, and Sixth Obligations,
which are all concerned with the effort that is needed to obtain
nourishment and remain here.
27. The argument of the second Appendix is stated here.* Namely,
if I take upon myself an Obligation that is not justified by Reason,
I shall be obeying not the Obligation but my own credulity and friv-
olity; for what we do not hold by Reason, we do not hold at all.
See my Saturnalia, and elsewhere.† If, then, the Obligation I assume
is a genuine Obligation, but I do not have a reasonable conviction
that it is a genuine Obligation, and that it is incumbent on me, it
will thereby not be an Obligation of mine. Accordingly, even if I
obey it, I shall not obey it in the proper sense, I shall obey that
frivolity and caprice of mine with which I assumed it. Just as a
dreamer who, for example, grasps a golden apple presented to him
in his dream does not really grasp it, but only some insubstantial
phantom and dream, so, as long as we grasp an Obligation to which
we have been led not by Reason, but by some caprice of ours, by
our credulity, and by the faith that we put in other men, we make
time not for the Obligation but for our caprices and credulity.
28. This is the other argument of the second Appendix. The first
argument was: if I take upon myself an Obligation that Reason does
not impose, I make time not for Reason, not for God, not for my
Obligation, but for my folly and caprice. The second argument (which
is stated here) is that there is no need to hunt and fish for Obligations
in caprices, fancies, credulity, and in the faith that we put in other
men, when all those Obligations are presented to us by God through
natural light in a sufficiently clear and obvious manner.
29. In case anyone should think that it follows from this and from
things said earlier that God does not advise us of our office through
the medium of other men, it is appropriate to add here that plainly
* The reference to a “second Appendix” may be explained by the fact that nei-
ther the summary of obligations at the beginning of [4] (which may be seen as a
first Appendix), nor these further remarks on misconceived obligations properly
belong to the subject matter of § 10, i.e., the seventh obligation to look upon one’s
birth as something good and never to lament or curse it.
†
In the Commentary to his Quaestiones Quodlibeticae address of 14 December 1652,
Geulincx defends Reason against empiricism, against arguments from authority and
against enthusiasm, maintaining that ‘Reason’ always ‘comes first’. A more elaborate
discussion of Reason is found in the Logica fundamentis suis restituta, Part 4, Section 2.
Cf. Opera I, 58 and 421 ff., respectively.
284 annotations to the ETHICS
* Treatise I, Chapter II, Section II, § 2, [1], and the footnotes to page 31, above.
annotations to the ETHICS 285
have something sad about them, indeed more sadness than joy, and
leave behind an intolerable regret, similar to a bad itch, which if
you scratch it you experience a little pleasure and excitement, but
invariably in the long run more misery and discomfort. And who
would wish a bad itch on himself for the sake of the pleasure of
scratching it? He would rightly say: I will not purchase regret at such an
inordinate cost.
19. I hint at the distinction between these true joys, which are
usually accompanied by profound silence, and false, or fleshly joys,
which roister, shout, and swagger, and are full of commotion and
tumult.
20. A timely warning, that when we extol pleasure in this way,
we must at all times take care lest we begin to direct our actions
towards obtaining it; and no mere formality in the case of certain
ill-advised persons, who are more attached to the size and weight
of the rewards that come in virtue’s train than to virtue itself and
Divine Law; and this is how it happens that they miss the rewards
as well.
21. That is, it is the ultimate end that gives moral action its char-
acter. Accordingly, someone who serves Divine Law for his own end
cares not for Divine Law but for himself; just as a man who steals
in order that he may gain another man’s wife is not a thief but an
adulterer, as I cited earlier from Aristotle.*
22. These things are what almost all men would say; for they
pursue virtue almost entirely on account of their pleasure and com-
fort, as Epicurus anciently observed very well. But when he went on
to say that men should behave like this because they commonly do
behave like this, he was gravely in error.
23. A dilemma: I act either on account of God’s law or on account
of my pleasure; if on account of God’s law, there is no cause for
complaint when I do not have pleasures that I did not want to have;
if on account of those same pleasures, there is also no cause for
complaint, because I have done nothing to deserve those pleasures.
For such pleasures belong to virtue; and when I acted on account
of those pleasures, I did not exercise virtue. Accordingly, the fol-
lowing reproach is both clearly justified and full of manly consolation:
Do you complain that you are bereft of spiritual pleasure? You have
no cause for complaint: for you did the right thing either in order
dictates it, and therefore not merely because Reason dictates it, you
sin. In fact, if it pleases you to obey Reason, and you therefore obey
because it pleases you, you again sin, and your action is not a vir-
tuous but a vicious action. Therefore, to depart from oneself in the
least degree is to go to God, and to be in God. Thus, the humble
man, that is, the man who has abandoned himself, or departed from
himself, is now already with God, and is so at home with the Sublime
that it is as if he himself were sublime.
8. For only the meanest and vilest of men would not return the
love of another by whom he sees himself to be sincerely loved; which
is not something of which one can accuse the Divinity, who is beyond
all measure the most generous of all beings. From this the conclusion
necessarily follows that if you love God, He will also love you in return.
9. That is, the other kinds of love have no place in God and His
law, as you can see in § 1 of this Treatise, paragraphs 6 and 7. More
on this will be said later, when I come to speak of Ends and means.
10. That is, He cannot be the object of Passionate Love, as it
cannot be sensed by Him, since He is incorporeal; and much less
can He have an Obedient Love for me, since as one who is by
nature my Lord He can never obey me.
11. Thus, it has been shown that the virtuous man, that is, the
humble man, is loved by God with such great Benevolent Love that
greater love towards him God Himself cannot conceive. From this
it manifestly follows that on the part of God nothing can be thought
more blessed than such a virtuous man.
12. The praise of humility couched in a poetic or fabulous form.
The explanation or mythology of this fable is very easy for anyone
to understand who has given some time to turning over this little
Treatise in his mind.
13. When Humility (that is, not caring about oneself ) has come
to join Diligence, that is, listening to Reason, Diligence immediately
changes somewhat, and comes to consist entirely in listening. Someone
who does not care about himself does not make laws for things, but
merely hears and listens to the law that God has inscribed on things.
For there is an insidious and hidden temptation that induces men
to say something about things that they do not receive from the
things themselves. Coveting God’s power and everything that belongs
to God, and driven by a kind of unacknowledged envy that they
themselves scarcely understand, they want to claim them for them-
selves. But it is for God alone to make laws for things that He
annotations to the ETHICS 293
Himself does not receive from things; it is not for us to make laws
for things, only to read the laws inscribed on them. For example,
Body, that is, what is extended, is also divisible, or does not admit
of penetration or replication, and many similar laws that Physicists
and Metaphysicians demonstrate that Body necessarily obeys. God
has made for Body these laws that he has somehow inscribed on it
with His divine finger: it is then indeed for us to enquire into them,
to read them, and to listen to them; but to make a law for Body
(for example, that it should be bounded, and that its extension should
terminate somewhere) that we do not find inscribed on it, that Body
itself does not suggest to us, this is not for us, and inasmuch as we
affect this kind of thing we affect a kind of Divinity. The same thing
happens in Ethics when we inflict upon ourselves an Obligation that
Reason has not imposed. See paragraph 4 of the Seventh Obligation.
Hence, Humility ensures that Diligence never speaks, that it remains
altogether mute, as if it has had its tongue cut out; nor does it ever
claim anything for itself, but listens and pays keen attention to what
God has said, taking careful note of the laws that it sees engraved
on things by God, and never interposing anything of its own.
14. For when Humility, or not caring about oneself, has come to
join Obedience, or the execution of Reason, Obedience then sees
nothing further, but merely allows itself to be led blindly by Reason.
It is led by no consideration for itself, nor does it regard its own
convenience, but merely executes what Reason has prescribed: that
it should bid farewell to every other consideration. Moreover, the
blindness of Obedience is most conspicuous when it comes to the
Rewards of Virtue, which do not attract it, and which it does not
regard, and to the Penalties of Sin, which it neither avoids nor
regards, merely following Virtue itself, the law of God, or Reason.
Hence, it is appropriate to call it blind, as it sees nothing where
men believe that they should be all eyes. The virtuous, or obedient
man has learned of the rewards that attend him when he does well,
and of the penalties that might attend him if he does otherwise; but
this prospect does not enter into his obedience; he behaves towards
such things merely speculatively, not practically, he does not let them
affect his purpose, but tells them to stay out of his sight. See in this
§ 12, paragraph 2, the kind of blind obedience that most men have
acknowledged as if by a natural instinct, but that some of them have
quite misapplied when they wished to serve certain men, and to
submit in a blind way to their leadership. Of them it is well said
294 annotations to the ETHICS
that, When the blind lead the blind, both shall fall into the ditch.* True
obedience, however, though in itself blind, still follows Wisdom and
Prudence, which are born out of Diligence, with its eyes very much
open (in fact, not only with its eyes open, but itself a very eye).
Hence, it is in no danger of stumbling.
15. When Humility, or not caring about oneself, has come to join
Justice, it has this effect, that Justice becomes altogether fixed, never
inclining either to more or to less. If someone is led by no care of
himself, he will do neither more nor less than Reason dictates: for
that more and less always arise from Self-love. Since Reason dictates
this not more, not less, if you do either more or less you necessarily
do it for the sake of your own desires. And you behold here the
very face of self-love, care of oneself, the enemy of Humility.
16. That is, he must turn as much as ever to inspection of him-
self, and be engaged in it. For in this inspection we must under-
stand the entire Field for which Philaretus has already departed in
§ 11, paragraph 3, and from which he is conceived as not having
yet returned.
17. For Philaretus is our zealous lover of virtue; though for the
prudent man zeal is often not enough (as is quite often the case with
the zealous). This is clear from his objections to the Sixth Obligation
in paragraphs 3 and 4 of § 9, where we see him carrying on the
work of being virtuous with great keenness but too little prudence.
18. That is, Diligence, Obedience, and Justice (which here come
under the names of Goddesses) do not have their full nature and
meaning until Humility comes to join them. For Diligence without
Humility will be devoted to its own interests; and this is not Diligence
but vanity. Obedience without Humility will regard itself and its own
interests; and this is not Obedience but servility to oneself. Justice
without Humility will incline sometimes to more, sometimes to less,
according as its desire or the logic of its own convenience demands;
and this is not Justice but fickleness and utter lack of resolution.
19. That is, Obedience is led by Reason, or the Logos; and this
is the father of Obedience, Virtue being its mother. For Virtue is
the love of Reason, a love that is consummated by embracing Reason,
and engenders the Cardinal Virtues. Thus, Reason here plays the
role of Father in the allegory of the Cardinal Virtues.
* St. Matthew 15: 14. Cf. Grynaeus, 112: Caecus caeco dux.
annotations to the ETHICS 295
20. Philaretus himself has departed, but among the spectators there
is someone resembling him, who is accordingly called his brother.
He too is a zealous but inadequately prudent lover of virtue, and
believes it to be indecorous to compose a play on the virtues, such
as is here represented on the stage.
21. He is thinking of the Aediles, who in ancient times mounted
the Games, and presented popular entertainments.
22. Here, the author replies to the objection that the brother of
Philaretus has made. And the reply is, that he should pay less atten-
tion to the fable that is offered here than to the mythology and the
explanation of the fable. The author does not, however, supply this
mythology, knowing that it is readily available to those who are even
moderately acquainted with the contents of this Treatise.
not God but yourself. And God cannot content Himself with the
kind of external services that content men, but requires from us, as
a true Master, correspondingly true service.
* The locus classicus for the idea that all things naturally strive towards God as
their final cause is Aristotle, Metaphysica XII, 7. Aristotle’s idea has a certain affinity
with Plato’s notion of the Idea of the Good as the ‘cause of knowledge and truth’,
from which the objects of knowledge are said to received ‘their existence and
essence’. Cf. Plato, Politeia VI, quotations from 508 e and 509 b. Both ideas were
profoundly influential.
†
Cf. Pierre Charron, De la Sagesse, Paris: David Douceur, 1604/ed. Barbara de
Negroni, Paris: Fayard, 1986, 445–448. With respect to the Moslems plucking out
their eyes, Geulincx must be thinking of what Charron writes at page 448:
‘Mahumetans qui se balaffrent le visage, l’estomach, les membres, pour gratifier
leur Prophete.’
annotations to the ETHICS 299
moderate one passion with another, and so seem to obey the Offices
of Virtue, though deformed Offices, inasmuch as they obey them
not at the behest of Reason but impelled by Passions and desires.
* Genesis 3: 19.
†
Cf. Arnold Geulincx, Annotata Latiora in Principia Philosophiae Renati Descartes, Opera
III, 420–426.
300 annotations to the ETHICS
author of sin. So long as even the tiniest seed of this wretched per-
suasion infects human minds, it is impossible for them to come to
any concept of true Piety: they fear God so much that they have
to execrate Him whom they consider only as the author of sin and
the remorseless avenger of what He has incited.
INTRODUCTION TO BECKETT’S
NOTES TO THE ETHICS
1
James Knowlson, Damned To Fame, London: Bloomsbury, 1996, 97.
2
Letter 3. Cited in Knowlson, Damned To Fame, 118.
3
Knowlson, Damned To Fame, 111–112.
4
Samuel Beckett, Trinity College Dublin, MS 10402. See letters 3, 4, 8, 57, 85,
91, 103, 105, 108, 150, 155, 175.
302 introduction to beckett’s notes to the ETHICS
5
Knowlson, Damned To Fame, 219.
6
Beckett, Trinity College Dublin, MS 10402, Letter 85, 9/1/36 [written as ‘35’
in error], Cooldrinagh.
introduction to beckett’s notes to the ETHICS 303
7
Cited in Knowlson, Damned To Fame, 219.
8
Samuel Beckett, Murphy, New York: Grove, 1957.
9
Cited in Knowlson, Damned To Fame, 219.
10
Cited in Knowlson, Damned To Fame, 219.
304 introduction to beckett’s notes to the ETHICS
That is, I would claim that these notes are not only important to
the Beckett of Murphy, but to Beckett from this time on. Thirdly,
rather than being systematic Beckett’s interest in philosophers was
based upon sympathy: for example, while he appears to have been
drawn to Geulincx, with whose work he engages with the utmost
attention, a demonstrably more influential and historically important
figure such as Spinoza does not seem to engage his attention so
forcefully.
By March 1936 Beckett has clearly penetrated sufficiently deeply
into the Library at Trinity to have found and begun to take notes
to Land’s edition of Geulincx. On March 6 he writes to MacGreevy:
I have been reading Geulincx in T.C.D., without knowing why exactly.
Perhaps because the text is so hard to come by. But that is a ratio-
nalisation and my instinct is right and the work worth doing, because
of its saturation in the conviction that the sub specie aeternitatis [from
the perspective of eternity] vision is the only excuse for remaining
alive. He does not put out his eyes on that account, as the Israelites
did and Rimbaud began to, or like the terrified Berkeley repudiate
them; one feels them very patiently turned outward, and . . . inward.11
The link to Geulincx (who is explicitly named by Beckett in a num-
ber of works such as, Murphy, ‘The End’,12 and Molloy)13 has been
long known, if not fully explored, in the field of Beckett studies.
Hugh Kenner was among the first to mention Geulincx in 1968 in
Samuel Beckett: A critical study, yet the importance of Geulincx was well
and truly established by a letter which Beckett wrote to Sighle
Kennedy in 1967 in response to her request for a key to his works
(she published the study Murphy’s Bed: A Study of Real Sources and Sur-
real Associations in Samuel Beckett’s First Novel in 1971). This letter was
first published by Lawrence Harvey, in his classic 1970 study Samuel
Beckett Poet and Critic14 and later republished in Disjecta, the indis-
pensable collection of Beckett’s occasional critical writings, which was
edited by Ruby Cohn in 1983. Here Beckett states:
11
Beckett, Trinity College Dublin, MS 10402, Letter 91.
12
Samuel Beckett, ‘The End’ in The Complete Short Prose, ed. S.E. Gontarski, New
York: Grove, 1995.
13
Samuel Beckett, Molloy, New York: Grove, 1955.
14
See Lawrence E. Harvey, Samuel Beckett Poet and Critic, Princeton: Princeton UP,
1970, 267.
introduction to beckett’s notes to the ETHICS 305
15
Samuel Beckett, Disjecta, ed. Ruby Cohn, London: Faber, 1983, 113.
16
Samuel Beckett, The Unnamable, New York: Grove, 1958, 165.
17
Chris Ackerley, Demented Particulars: The Annotated Murphy, Tallahassee, Fla:
Journal of Beckett Studies Books, 1998.
18
Rupert Wood, “Murphy, Beckett; Geulincx, God”, Journal of Beckett Studies 2
(1993–2), 27–51.
19
John Pilling, Samuel Beckett, London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1976.
20
See Anthony Uhlmann, Samuel Beckett and the Philosophical Image, Cambridge:
Cambridge UP, 2006; Anthony Uhlmann, ‘Samuel Beckett and the Occluded Image’
in S.E. Gontarski and Anthony Uhlmann (eds.), Beckett after Beckett, Gainesville, Fla:
University Press of Florida, 2006, 79–97; Anthony Uhlmann, “‘A Fragment of a
Vitagraph’: Hiding and Revealing in Beckett, Geulincx and Descartes”, in Anthony
Uhlmann, Sjef Houppermans and Bruno Clément (eds.), After Beckett, D’après Beckett,
Samuel Beckett Today/Aujourd’hui 14, Amsterdam: Rodopi, 2004, 342–356.
306 introduction to beckett’s notes to the ETHICS
include Geulincx’ cradle: the image of the mother rocking the baby’s
cradle as a metaphor for God allowing us the movements we desire
(in general) and (in particular) for suicide, which Beckett adapts to
images of rocking chairs in Murphy, Film and Rockaby.21 Other images
which might be traced to Geulincx include that of the two clocks
(linking the narratives of Molloy and Moran in Molloy), and that of
hell as involving the continuation of something not because it is log-
ical to continue, but simply because one has started (which resonates
with The Unnamable in particular). Perhaps most importantly, how-
ever, I argue that the ‘cogito’ which is described in The Unnamable
(and which inheres in later works) is a Geulingian cogito, rather than
a Cartesian cogito: that it emerges through an inspection of the self
which leads to the understanding that one knows nothing (as in
Geulincx) rather than to a point of foundation upon which one might
build up an accurate knowledge of the world (as in Descartes). To
my mind Geulincx and Beckett have in common the core affirmation
that we are ultimately ignorant: while Beckett has stated that the
key word to his works is ‘perhaps’, Bernard Rousset has claimed
that ‘nescio’ (I do not know) is the key word to Geulincx’.22
What I have written elsewhere, however, by no means exhausts
the subject of how Beckett makes use of Geulincx. It is hoped that
this publication, which offers English language students of Beckett
access both to Geulincx’ Ethics in full and to Beckett’s notes to
Geulincx, will open the door to further studies on the relationship
between Geulincx’ system and Beckett’s works.
Beckett’s notes to Geulincx have only recently been made avail-
able to scholars. They are now held in the Rare Books collection at
Trinity College Dublin where they can be accessed via microfilm.
These notes were among those that Beckett had kept with him up
until his death in 1989. That is, he considered them sufficiently
important that he had not, as he had with so many of his other
papers, given them to Beckett archives at Reading or elsewhere. One
can only assume that these were notes that he kept on hand for pos-
21
Samuel Beckett, Film, and Rockaby in The Complete Dramatic Works, London:
Faber, 1986.
22
Tom F. Driver, ‘Beckett by the Madeleine’, Columbia University Forum,
Summer 1961, 23. Bernard Rousset, Geulincx entre Descartes et Spinoza, Paris: Vrin,
1999.
introduction to beckett’s notes to the ETHICS 307
AU
SAMUEL BECKETT’S NOTES TO HIS READING
OF THE ETHICS BY ARNOLD GEULINCX
THE ETHICS
1
Words marked in bold indicate that text has been added by Samuel Beckett.
The added text is in Latin in the original unless otherwise noted.
2
This note is in English in the original. In the First Fair Copy this is written
as ‘Humility no virtue for the ancients’.
312 samuel beckett’s notes
Treatise I
On Virtue
And its prime attributes, which are commonly called cardinal virtues
Chapter I
On Virtue in General
Ethics is concerned with Virtue. Virtue is the exclusive Love of right
Reason.
1. Love
The Argument
Love has two divisions: pleasant love, and effective love.
Pleasant love also has two divisions: sensible or corporeal love
(which is passionate love, or affective love), and spiritual love (which
is a certain kind of approbation; and pre-eminent here is that appro-
bation with which we approve of our actions when they conform
with Reason, that is, the highest law).
Neither kind of love (that is, neither pleasant love nor effective
love) constitutes Virtue.
Effective love is a firm intention, signifying an end-for-which. It
is often generated by affective love (which happens in vice, and in
particular in intemperance). Sometimes it generates affective love
(which is often the case in the exercise of virtue), sometimes the
latter is without the former, and sometimes the former is without
the latter.
Effective love is either benevolent love (which does not make for
virtue, as we cannot do anything either good or bad for Reason),
concupiscent love (and this makes for virtue even less, as with con-
cupiscent love we love ourselves, not Reason), or obedient love (and
this at last constitutes virtue, for no other love is consistent with
Reason). (a) [From Annotations: Argument To Treatise I. Chapter I.
§ 1. Love.]
samuel beckett’s notes 313
A [←in margin] this passion, which is widely called Love, is the entire,
exclusive, and sole delight of the human mind, insofar as it is human
and joined to a body. For even though the human mind, insofar as
it is a mind, is capable of more elevated pleasures (such as the mere
approbation of its own actions, when they accord with Divine Law),
nevertheless, insofar as it is joined to a body, and born to act on
it, and in turn to receive something from it, and as it were be acted
upon by it, it knows no other tenderness than passion. [From Treatise I.
Chapter I. § 1. Love. Paragraph 1.]
What love is, does not need to be stated . . . There is often a cer-
tain ambiguity in a name when the thing itself is perfectly clear. this
Ambiguity surrounding the word Love is a source of major errors in
Ethics. (a) [From Annotations To Treatise I. Chapter I. § 1. Love.
Ann. 1.]
C [←in margin] (In some)3 Affective Love is barren, and does not
generate Effective Love. Such men should not be held in high regard,
for though they have within themselves the seed of true love, it does
not germinate. Affective Love is like a seed that has only this one use,
that is, to beget Effective Love. Otherwise it is in itself quite useless.
(a) [From Annotations To Treatise I. Chapter I. § 1. Love. Ann. 10]
3
English in the original. In the First Fair Copy this is written as: ‘in some men’.
314 samuel beckett’s notes
F [←in margin] There are also two kinds of Effective Love, namely,
Benevolent Love and Concupiscent Love . . . Reason is an image of the
divine that we have within ourselves, and consequently, inasmuch as
it is a divine image (and to that extent loveable), it can no more
receive good or ill from us than God Himself . . . We commend a
mirror that reflects true images of things, and discommend one that
reflects false and distorted images; but no-one believes the things
reflected in the mirror to be either commendable or discommend-
able on that account. [From Treatise I. Chapter I. § 1. Love.
Paragraph 6.]
samuel beckett’s notes 315
2. Reason
The Argument
What Reason is, is sufficiently known because of the fact that it is
known at some point.
316 samuel beckett’s notes
Virtue is rather love of Reason than love of God; for our love—
and I mean obedient love, of which alone we here speak—is
superfluous when addressed to God Himself, who must be obeyed
whether we will or not.
Redundant to the definition of Virtue are these two qualifications
placed in front, . . . Exclusive and Right . . . For these qualifications are
already there by nature: love of Reason cannot be other than exclu-
sive . . . (et) right Reason and Reason are the same thing. (a) [From
Annotations: Argument To Treatise I. Chapter I. § 2. Reason.]
B [←in margin] Virtue is the Love of Reason, and not strictly speak-
ing, or at least not so precisely speaking, the Love of God as He is
in Himself. [From Treatise I. Chapter I. § 2. Reason. Paragraph 2.]
To have to endure something we dislike is the epitome of unhap-
piness; and we are all distressed when something happens, or sim-
ply is the case, in some other way than we wish . . . [From Treatise I.
Chapter I. § 2. Reason. Paragraph 2.]
4
ubi nihil vales, ibi nihil velis: Beckett makes use of this formulation from Geulincx
on a number of occasions. See Uhlmann’s introduction for further details.
samuel beckett’s notes 317
Beyond God and Reason, all things must be despised.5 [From Treatise I.
Chapter I. § 2. Reason. Paragraph 4.]
3. Disposition
The Argument
Virtue must not be placed in disposition. First, because while virtue
is prior to virtuous actions, disposition is posterior to them; secondly,
because while virtue belongs with morals, disposition belongs with
nature. . . . Thirdly, because while virtue can be acquired all at once,
disposition can be acquired only gradually and through repeated
acts. (a) [From Annotations: Argument to Treatise I. Chapter I.
§ 3. Disposition.]
5
This line only appears in the First Fair Copy.
6
English in the original.
7
“animi aut corporis constantem et absolutam aliqua in re perfectionem, ut vir-
tutis aut artis alicuius perceptionem aut quamvis scientiam et item corporis aliquam
commoditatem non natura datam, sed studio et industria partam.” Cf. De Intentione,
Liber 1.36. The English translation cited here is from Cicero, Treatise on Rhetorical
Invention, Book 1, Chapter XXV. Translated by C.D. Yonge, in The Orations of Marcus
Tullius Cicero, Volume 4, London: George Bell & Sons, 1888, 241–380, http://classic-
persuasion.org/pw/cicero/dnvindex.htm.
samuel beckett’s notes 319
CHAPTER II
On the Cardinal virtues
The Cardinal Virtues are the attributes of Virtue that proceed from
it most closely and immediately, without reference to any particular
external circumstances. . . . Diligence, Obedience, Justice, and Humility.
SECTION I
1. Diligence
The Argument
Diligence is listening to Reason.
It has two parts: Turning away from external things (for they hin-
der listening), and turning into oneself (for Reason, which we have
to listen to, has its dwelling-place there).
The Adminicle of diligence is familiarity with Reason.
The Fruit of diligence is prudence.
Moreover, speculative wisdom, which has a great affinity with pru-
dence, is born directly after prudence. (a) [From Annotations: Argument
to Treatise I. Chapter II. Section I. § 1. Diligence.]
A [←in margin] Reason has these four attributes. First, there is dic-
tate; secondly, law; thirdly, rule; and fourthly, the task . . . Accordingly,
Virtue, which is nothing other than love of Reason, embraces Reason
as pronouncing its dictate, through listening, or diligence . . . Reason
as promulgating law through obedience . . . Reason as ruling and mea-
suring our actions through justice; and finally, . . . Reason as enjoin-
ing on us our task and office through humility. (a) [From Annotations
to Treatise I. Chapter II. Section I. § 1. Diligence. Ann. 3.]
Which is an intense and continuous withdrawal of the mind (no
matter what its current business) from external things into itself, into
its own innermost sanctum, in order to consult the sacred Oracle of
Reason. [From Treatise I. Chapter II. Section I. § 1. Diligence.
Paragraph 1.]
B [←in margin] [No text beside this. Only in First Fair Copy.]
samuel beckett’s notes 321
C [←in margin] These are the shining words of Diligence: Learn not
many things, but much about a few things. (a) [From Annotations to
Treatise I. Chapter II. Section I. § 1. Diligence. Ann. 9.]
There is nothing that veils Reason from us other than our prej-
udices and desires. (a) [From Annotations to Treatise I. Chapter II.
Section I. § 1. Diligence. Ann. 10.]
Metaphysics and Logic, which abound everywhere in superfluities,
while being still by nature true and genuine sciences no less than
Mathematics. . . . (a) [From Annotations to Treatise I. Chapter II.
Section I. § 1. Diligence. Ann. 11.]
Therefore, Reason is rightly depicted as a fair maiden who dis-
dains to share the marriage-bed of wisdom with one by whom she
sees her rudiments held in contempt. (a) [From Annotations to
Treatise I. Chapter II. Section I. § 1. Diligence. Ann. 12.]
2. Obedience
The Argument
Obedience is an exercise of Reason.
The Adminicle of Obedience is, with the utmost diligence to be-
ware of the Obedience of men. We must no doubt on occasion do
what men order, but never because they order it. (a) [From Anno-
tations: Argument to Treatise I. Chapter II. Section I. § 2. Obedience.]
8
English in the original.
9
English in the original.
samuel beckett’s notes 323
10
At this point the pages in the Second Fair Copy in the TCD manuscript are
out of order. I have reestablished the correct order here.
324 samuel beckett’s notes
3. Justice
The Argument
Justice is the fair application of Reason.
There are two parts to this fairness: To cut away what is superfluous
to the proportion (purity) and to supply what is required to make
up the proportion (perfection) . . . Justice protects us against two vices,
excess and defect; purity, or its right hand, which bears a sword,
keeps at bay and guards against the former; perfection, or its left
hand, which is equipped with a scale, the latter.
The Adminicle of Justice is serious consideration of the essence of
things, and consists in number and proportion . . . Actions will not
be virtuous . . . if there is anything in them, however small, that is
more or less than Reason would dictate.
The essential Fruit of Justice is that sufficiency which arises from
the avoidance of both the superfluous and the deficient; the acci-
dental Fruit, on the other hand, is the sufficiency which consists in
the passion commonly known as contentment. (a) [From Annotations:
Argument to Treatise I. Chapter II. Section I. § 3. Justice.]
SUPERSTITION BUFFOONERY
GOOD HUMOUR
MANLY PIETY
RELIGION
GRAVITY
Excess Defect Excess Defect
IMPIETY CLODDISHNESS
There is always more danger from excess than from defect. (a) [From
Annotations to Treatise I. Chapter II. Section I. § 3. Justice. Ann. 10.]
C [←in margin] The vulgar scatter names about lavishly, and extend
them to things that do not bear such a meaning. What is almost,
they say is: what is only just, they say is not. These verbal abuses
would be tolerable if they did not impose them on the things them-
selves, and fall into the habit of judging the things themselves by
their names. [From Treatise I. Chapter II. Section I. § 3. Justice.
Paragraph 3.]
Anyone who deviates from what Reason says by the smallest
amount does not do what Reason says, but does something else, and
is an enemy of God and Reason, a sinner. [From Treatise I. Chapter
II. Section I. § 3. Justice. Paragraph 3.]
SECTION II
1. Humility
The Argument
Humility is carelessness of oneself; not in a positive sense, but (as I
employ the words) in a negative sense. Hence, humility is better
described as carelessness and neglect of oneself than as disregard of
oneself.
Humility is born out of Virtue; for it is impossible that anyone
should neglect himself unless led to such neglect by love of Reason,
that is, divine law. (a) [From Annotations: Argument to Treatise I.
Chapter II. Section II. § 1. Humility.]
B [←in margin] The Love of God and Reason (which is the definition
of Virtue) has this effect on one who loves them, that he forsakes
himself, withdraws from himself, and takes no account of himself.
[From Treatise I. Chapter II. Section II. § 1. Humility. Paragraph 2.]
2. Inspection of Oneself
The Argument
It is as if the human condition has four parts: firstly, the action with
which we move our body, and with our body as an intermediary,
other bodies; secondly, the passion with which we receive an image
of parts of the world when we apply our sight, our hearing, and
our other senses to them; as the third part, there is our birth, or
our first coming into this state and condition; the fourth part being
death, or our departure from this condition.
And we learn by inspecting ourselves that we can do nothing
about any part of the human condition, we have no power, and no
rights over it; that it is all down to someone else’s power.
328 samuel beckett’s notes
walk over it, I, as one who escapes all the senses, and who himself
can neither be seen, heard, nor touched, am by no means a part
of the world. These senses all have their seat in my body, and noth-
ing can pass from them into me. I elude every appearance: I am
without colour, shape, or size, I have neither length nor breadth,
for all these qualities belong to my body. I am defined by con-
sciousness and will alone. (a) [From Annotations to Treatise I.
Chapter II. Section II. § 2. Inspection of Oneself. Ann. 5.]
into my body and its organs, the tongue, hands, and feet. However,
the action itself is not really diffused; for the action that is received
into my body is not mine but the mover’s . . . Owing to Divine power,
my actions are sometimes diffused outside me; but to that extent they are not my
actions but God’s. (a) [From Annotations to Treatise I. Chapter II.
Section II. § 2. Inspection of Oneself. Ann. 17.]
This same one has set limits beyond which he refuses to carry
my actions. At the command of my will (here the action is within
me) my hands may move in a corresponding way (and here the
action is outside me, and now translated into my body, not indeed
by me but by him who can do this) so as to grasp and pick up cer-
tain stones and pile them up into what I am pleased to call a house
or tower (which I also claim that I build); yet the stars will not rise
or set at the command of my will, clouds will not gather to water
my crops, or pass over when I stand in need of sunshine, nor will
the sea ebb and flow otherwise than is its custom. [From Treatise
I. Chapter II. Section II. § 2. Inspection of Oneself. Paragraph 7.]
Just as the whole of motion is denied to us as authors, so only a
tiny amount is allowed to us as users. (a) [From Annotations to
Treatise I. Chapter II. Section II. § 2. Inspection of Oneself. Ann. 18.]
These feet are not moved because I wish to go on my way, but
because another wishes what I wish. It is just like a baby laid in his
cradle: if he wishes the cradle to rock it sometimes rocks, though
not because he wishes it, but because his mother or nurse, sitting
beside it, wills it, and because she . . . can fulfil it and also wishes to
fulfil what he wishes . . . Furthermore, my will does not move the
Mover to move my limbs; rather, He who imparts motion to mat-
ter and has given laws to it is the same one who has formed my
will, and yoked together these diverse things (the motion of matter
and the decision of my will) in such a way that when my will wishes,
such motion as it wishes appears; and on the other hand when
motion appears my will wishes it, without either causing or influencing
the other. It is the same as if two clocks agree precisely with each
other and with the daily course of the Sun: when one chimes and
tells the hours, the other also chimes and likewise indicates the hour;
and all that without any causality in the sense of one having a causal
effect on the other, but rather on account of mere dependence, inas-
much as both of them have been constructed with the same art and
similar industry. So, for example, motion of the tongue accompa-
samuel beckett’s notes 333
nies our will to speak, and this will accompanies the motion, with-
out either the latter depending on the former, or the former depend-
ing on the latter, but rather both depending on that same supreme
artificer who has joined and yoked them together so ineffably. (a)
[From Annotations to Treatise I. Chapter II. Section II. § 2. Inspection
of Oneself. Ann. 19.]
have to deny that I see, because (as I have now realised) I do not
know how I see. [From Treatise I. Chapter II. Section II. § 2.
Inspection of Oneself. Paragraph 10.]
Something is said to be ineffable not because we cannot think or
speak of it (for this would be nothing, nothing and unthinkable being the
same . . .) but because we cannot think about or encompass with our
reason how it is done. And in this sense God is ineffable not only
in Himself but in all His works. For example, I, as a man, am his
work; I know that this work exists, in fact I know nothing so well
as that this work exists; but the manner in which He made me a
man and joined me to my body, so that I act on it and am acted
on . . . I do not understand; I understand only that I can never under-
stand it . . . The same is true of the rest of God’s works, for when
they are thoroughly investigated, in the end an ineffable something
is always missing. Therefore . . . it is quite inept to deny a reality
because you cannot grasp how it works; and here the Sceptics, and
those who are enormously and foolishly beset by doubt, who main-
tain either that motion does not exist, or perhaps that they are not
affected even by their own body, because they do not know how
motion happens and how it affects them, are very impercep-
tive . . . Impious one and all, they would deprive men of the first
and greatest attribute of divinity, namely, ineffability . . . (a) [From
Annotations to Treatise I. Chapter II. Section II. § 2. Inspection of
Oneself. Ann. 29.]
in the order of reason present things are very clear to us, past things
more obscure . . . and things to come very obscure. (a) [From
Annotations to Treatise I. Chapter II. Section II. § 2. Inspection of
Oneself. Ann. 33.]
3. Disregard of Oneself
The chief axiom of Ethics . . .: Wherein you have no power, therein nei-
ther should you will (Note that this axiom includes both parts of humil-
ity . . . inspection and disregard. Wherein you have no power; we read in
this the inspection of oneself . . . Therein you should not will; we read
in this . . . disregard of oneself, or neglect of oneself across the whole
human condition, and resigning ourselves into the power of His
hand, in which we are, indeed, whether we like it or not. [from
Geulincx’s note to Annotation 1]) or what comes to the same thing,
Do nothing gratuitously, do nothing in vain. In practical matters no clearer
principle than this can be imagined; no one who would wish to
reject it can be anything but extremely stupid, and we customarily
call men stupid when we see them doing or attempting something
which they could easily see was in vain. Therefore, to will nothing
concerning our condition, to leave the whole thing to Him in whose
power it really is, this truly is to disregard oneself, this is to build
virtue on the unshakeable foundation of humility. (a) [From Anno-
tations to Treatise I. Chapter II. Section II. § 3. Disregard of Oneself.
Ann. 1.]
The second part of Humility is Disregard of Oneself. . . . The Disregard
consists in the abandonment of myself, altogether relinquishing, trans-
ferring, and yielding myself to God, from whom . . . I have my whole
being (in coming hither, acting here, and departing hence). I must
be led by no regard for myself, I must put away all care and study
of myself; and as one who has no right over anything, not even over
myself, also claim nothing by right. I must have a mind not for what
suits me, but for what God commands, and I must labour not over
my own happiness, blessedness, or repose, but over my obligations
alone.
338 samuel beckett’s notes
4. First Obligation
The Argument
The axiom, Wherein I have no power, therein I do not will, embraces both
parts of Humility: I have no power denotes Inspection of Oneself, I do
not will denotes Disregard of Oneself. But I have no power over
death, that is, my departure from the world; I can neither defer
nor delay it . . . therefore I shall will nothing here. (a) [From Annota-
tions: Argument to To Treatise I. Chapter II. Section II. § 4. First
Obligation.]
A [←in margin] When God summons me from the living, and orders me to
return to Him, I must not persist in refusal, but hold myself ready. [From
Treatise I. Chapter II. Section II. § 4. First Obligation. Paragraph 1.]
With a truly virtuous man there is no delay when he is summoned
by his God. He holds it to be of no importance whether he is to
get a beating or not; he has learned that it is a matter not for him,
but for his master, and that wherein he has no power, therein nei-
ther does he will. (a) [From Annotations to Treatise I. Chapter II.
Section II. § 4. First Obligation. Ann. 3.]
5. Second Obligation
The Argument
The Second Obligation is, not to depart this life unless God has
summoned you. (A)
Indeed, I have been wont to believe that I have power in this;
but since I cannot by willpower alone release myself from the body . . . I
understand plainly that I was mistaken. (B)
Hence, I firmly hold to this: no affliction will be so great as to
lead me to wish to give up my life; no happiness so great as to per-
suade me to wish to hold on to my life; the decision will rest with
the law of God. (C)
This Obligation is practically the foundation for the others: any-
one who shakes it overturns the whole of Ethics. (D)
Seneca objects, wanting to be free to depart this life because it is
easy to depart, especially if calamity urges departure. (E)
But above all, not only is it is not easy for us, it is impossible.
And even though I have to grant that, according to the common
way of speaking, it is easy, it does not follow that one should do it.
(a) [From Annotations: Argument to Treatise I. Chapter II. Section
II. § 5. Second Obligation.]
A [←in margin] Not to depart when not summoned, not to quit my post and
station of life without orders from the Supreme Commander. [From Treatise I.
Chapter II. Section II. § 5. Second Obligation. Paragraph 1.]
Even though they understand well enough that they cannot defer
death, they nevertheless do not see that they cannot bring forward
death; the cause of this inadvertence being that they are persuaded
that they can move certain bodies. Hence, they believe that they
can bring about death with their own hands, and that therefore all
they have to do is will it, and they can die more quickly than they
would otherwise die. But it is quite clear from our inspection of the
human condition that men move neither their own nor other bod-
ies, and consequently, it is as impossible for us to choose death as
to cut short life and bring forward death. (a) [From Annotations to
Treatise I. Chapter II. Section II. § 5. Second Obligation. Ann. 1.]
It is vain for me to attempt what I cannot undertake, like a ridicu-
lous dwarf aspiring to wrest the club out of the hand of Hercules.
[From Treatise I. Chapter II. Section II. § 5. Second Obligation.
Paragraph 1.]
340 samuel beckett’s notes
B [←in margin] I can only will it, and when I will it, God usually
imparts the motion that I will; not because I will it, but because He
wills that the motion that I will should be imparted. For example,
if a baby wants the cradle11 in which he has been laid to be rocked,
it is usually rocked; though not because he wants it, but because his
mother or nursemaid, who is sitting by the cradle and who can actu-
ally rock it, also wants to do what he wants. [From Treatise I.
Chapter II. Section II. § 5. Second Obligation. Paragraph 2.]
The analogy of the baby and his mother on the one hand, and
of God and me on the other hand, is a lame one . . . (God makes
motion, the mother does not make it; the baby moves his mother
to move, I do not move God). But the whole force and energy of
the analogy turn on this, that just as the motion or rocking of the
cradle is made with the baby willing it, though the motion is not
made by the baby, so equally, motion is often made with me willing
11
On Beckett’s use of this image in Murphy, Film and Rockaby, see Uhlmann’s
introduction here. Also see Anthony Uhlmann, Samuel Beckett and the Philosophical
Image, Cambridge: Cambridge U.P., 2006.
samuel beckett’s notes 341
F [←in margin] Though (virtuous men) are kept here, they are
perfectly free. [From Treatise I. Chapter II. Section II. § 5. Second
Obligation. Paragraph 6.]
6. Third Obligation
The Argument
The Third Obligation concerns the need to refresh the body. It
arises from the Second Obligation; for if you do not refresh the
body, it will fail; which the Second Obligation forbids. (A)
A digression respecting the Obligation to procreate, undertaken
on account of an analogy with the Third Obligation. (B)
Anxiety is banned by the performance of this Obligation; for anx-
iety has no place in one who seeks only his office and Obligations.
For if he cannot fulfil an Obligation, then that Obligation thereby
expires, and is superseded by another Obligation. (C)
An objection is raised to the Third Obligation on the basis of the
Ethical principle, Wherein you have no power, etc. For it seems that we
have no power over the refreshment of the body either. I reply, that
the Ethical principle, Wherein you have no power, etc., does not
suffice . . . (D) (a) [From Annotations: Argument to Treatise I.
Chapter II. Section II. § 6. Third Obligation.]
procreate in order that the human race may remain here. [From
Treatise I. Chapter II. Section II. § 6. Third Obligation. Paragraph 2.]
This seems to agree with our axiom: Wherein you have no power, etc.
God sometimes wills that our will should have some power where
it could have had no power of its own . . . our will has no power of
its own over eating, it has power on account of God’s ordinance.
(a) [From Annotations to Treatise I. Chapter II. Section II. § 6.
Third Obligation. Ann. 21.]
7. Fourth Obligation
The Argument
This Obligation involves the following four elements: 1. Choice of
mode of life; 2. Devotion to this mode of life; 3. Constancy in this
mode of life; 4. The vicissitudes of this mode of life. As to Choice,
justice must be served by taking up a mode of life that is neither
greater nor less than is required for sustenance.
As to the Dedication . . . it largely depends on the Fifth Obligation.
As to Constancy and Vicissitudes, a brief warning that our mode
of life should be changed as little as possible.
An Appendix concerning Anxiety about living, which occurs prin-
cipally in the choice of mode of life. (a) [From Annotations: Argument
to Treatise I. Chapter II. Section II. § 7. Fourth Obligation.]
8. Fifth Obligation
The Argument
To bear many things, to do many things; for sometimes I cannot
find a mode of life that is productive and affords me sustenance.
I consider four instances in which difficulties may arise. First, in
the mode of life of a learned man (in which study and a thousand
12
This rare interjection from Beckett seems to take Geulincx to task for having
the gall to disparage an honourable profession and the worthy artisans who prac-
tice that profession. This brings to mind a joke which Beckett tells twice later in
his career, about tailors and God, once in Endgame, where Nagg tells the story, and
in an essay on the painters Bram and Greer van Velde ‘La peinture des van Velde
ou le Monde et le Pantalon’ (see Disjecta, edited by Ruby Cohn). To sum this up:
a client goes to a tailor and orders a pair of trousers, and after returning time and
again only to be told the trousers are still not ready, the client finally snaps. To
quote the punchline from Nagg’s telling of the joke in Endgame: “‘God damn you
to hell, Sir, no it’s indecent, there are limits! In six days, do you hear me, six days,
God made the world. Yes sir, no less Sir, the WORLD! And you are not bloody well
capable of making me a pair of trousers in three months!’ [Tailor’s voice, scan-
dalized.] ‘But my dear Sir, my dear Sir, look—[disdainful gesture, disgustedly]—at
the world—[pause]—and look—[loving gesture, proudly]—at my TROUSERS!’” Samuel
Beckett, Endgame, in The Complete Dramatic Prose, London: Faber, 1986, 102–103.
348 samuel beckett’s notes
9. Sixth Obligation
C [←in margin] “Whatever men do, they are all judged by their intention”
(a) [From Annotations to Treatise I. Chapter II. Section II. § 9.
Sixth Obligation. Ann. 9.]
Indeed, Philaretus, the virtuous and the vicious often differ little
in their external actions; but their minds differ immensely in their
modes of thought. Vicious men indulge themselves in pleasure for its
own sake; virtuous men for a reason; vicious men because it is their good
pleasure, virtuous men because God commands it . . . When a virtuous
man indulges in his own pleasure, it is then that he restrains his
pleasure the most; for he does not indulge in his pleasure because
he likes it (he will rather despise it), but because it is his duty . . . like
a merchant voyaging (let us say) to the Indies, who when a storm
blows up casts his merchandise into the sea. [From Treatise I. Chap-
ter II. Section II. § 9. Sixth Obligation. Paragraph 3.]
13
Beckett forgets to mark this as ‘E’ following to his own system of categorization.
350 samuel beckett’s notes
of life; (5) While I am here, to suffer many things, and to do many things;
(6) Amongst other things, frequently to relax my mind. [From Treatise I.
Chapter II. Section II. § 9. Sixth Obligation. Paragraph 5.]
And when we feel the onset of death, then truly almost unspeak-
able agonies oppress us, as all those on the verge of death (i.e., sick
unto death) know too well. (a) [From Annotations to Treatise I.
Chapter II. Section II. § 10. Seventh Obligation. Ann. 6.]
I tremble with mortal dread, I languish with incredible sadness, I
am crushed and constricted by intolerable anguish.
My mind gropes in a cloud of unknowing, my spirit is beset with vice.
An ignorant mind . . . a mind that preferred to go on the trail of
alien and superfluous things that are of no concern to me, as a result
of which I am alike ignorant of what concerns me and what does
not . . . how could I know anything when I do not even know myself
and things that concern me?
A depraved spirit, motivated by self-love, rabidly craves all things for
itself with insatiable desire, subordinates all things to itself, grasps all
things for itself; and wanting to serve even God for its own selfish
sake, calls this service piety. [From Treatise I. Chapter II. Section II.
§ 10. Seventh Obligation. Paragraph 2.]
I now enquire into the causes of our afflictions. Three causes
are considered: the first of them Platonic, the second, Christian, and
the third, coming from an unknown person, though it may be ascribed
to the very author of this Treatise. These causes are considered in
a tentative manner, inasmuch as to enquire into causes is not the
subject-matter of Ethics, whose office can be summed up as: wherein
one has no power, therein one should not will; and what one cannot
avert, to consider it to be for the best. (a) [From Annotations to
Treatise I. Chapter II. Section II. § 10. Seventh Obligation. Ann. 10.]
There is no support of this kind for Plato, who says that we have
all sinned on our own account before we were cast into the prison-
house of our bodies to be punished. (a) [From Annotations to
Treatise I. Chapter II. Section II. § 10. Seventh Obligation. Ann. 13.]
But perhaps these are calamities only to complainers and self-
interested persons, not to the humble.
I shall not enquire into (the cause of ) them for the time being,
because Humility has not as yet afforded me any guidance on the
question. [From Treatise I. Chapter II. Section II. § 10. Seventh
Obligation. Paragraph 3.]
Disregard of oneself, neglect and abandonment of oneself, whereby
we leave everything to God, taking no care of ourselves, are the
chief source of humility. From this source as such it does not fol-
low that we should enquire into the cause of our afflictions. Either
they are afflictions (as they seem to be to the vulgar), or they are
not (as wiser heads and some Philosophers have realised). (a) [From
Annotations to Treatise I. Chapter II. Section II. § 10. Seventh
Obligation. Ann. 18.]
A brief recapitulation of all the Obligations, and all the proposi-
tions that we have examined in the light of those Obligations. (a)
[From Annotations to Treatise I. Chapter II. Section II. § 10. Seventh
Obligation. Ann. 22.]
Aesop, Fabulae.
Aristotle, Ethica Nicomachea.
Cicero, De finibus bonorum et malorum.
——, Oratio pro A. Licinio Archia Poeta.
——, Tusculanae Disputationes.
Diogenes Laertius, Vitae Philosophorum.
Homer, Odyssea.
——, Ilias.
Horace, Epistolae.
——, Odi.
——, Saturae.
——, Ars Poetica.
Juvenal, Saturae.
Martial, Epigrammata.
Ovid, Metamorphoses.
——, Tristia.
Plato, Charmides.
——, Politeia.
Plautus, Pseudolus.
Pseudo-Seneca, Liber de moribus.
Sallust, Bellum Catilinae.
Seneca, De vita beata ad Gallionem.
——, Epistulae Morales ad Lucilium.
——, De Providentia.
——, De Tranquillitate Animi.
Silius Italicus, Punica.
Tacitus, Annales.
Terence, Heautontimorumenos.
Virgil, Aeneis.
——, Eclogues.
Aristotle, Metaphysica.
Catullus, Poemata.
Epicurus, Letter to Menoeceus.
Hippocrates, Epidemia.
——, Aphorisms.
Plato, Meno.
——, Symposium.
——, Phaedo.
——, Phaedrus.
Pseudo-Aristotle, De virtutibus et vitiis.
Seneca, De beneficiis.
Terence, Andria.
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INDEX
Ackerley, Chris 305, 358 Aristotle xi, xvii, 17, 23–24, 26, 76,
actions, metaphysical account of, see: 167, 169, 194–195, 203–204, 209,
causality, inspection of oneself, 275, 289, 298, 355, 356
occasionalism see also: Pseudo-Aristotle
moral and immoral 7, 17–18, arrogance 27, 126, 144, 211–213,
25–26, 51, 75, 95–96, 98–99, 102, 224, 330
107, 122–124, 141, 151–153, Augustine xxxv
157–159, 163–165, 170, 173–175, Augustinianism xvi, xxi, xxxv
177, 185–186, 190–191, 195, 197, Autology 237, 241, 242
204, 206–208, 216–217, 219, 262, avarice 68, 78, 96–97, 263
275–276, 285, 289, 292, 296, axiom, Geulincx’ ‘axiom of
298–299, 311–315, 318, 320, 324, metaphysics’ xxv, xxxviii, xxxix,
349 227
natural 185 Geulincx’ ‘axiom of moral
passions and 11, 79–80, 83, philosophy’ xxxix–xl, 178, 303,
110–118, 170, 173, 177, 196–197, 305, 316
233–234, 238, 243–244, 248,
298–299, 313–315, 327–328, Barnes, Jonathan 356
331–335 Barrès, Maurice 301
Adam, Charles ix, 356 Basnage de Beauval, Henri 232
adiaphora 170 Basore, John W. xvii, 358
adoration 85–88 Bauman, Zygmunt xxxvi, 358
Aediles 295 beatitude xxxi
Aeneas 83 see also: blessedness, satisfaction
Aesop 155, 355 Beaufret, Jean 301
Agrippa (= M. Vipsanius Agrippa Beckett, Samuel xi, xxxi, xxxviii, xlv,
Postumus) 77 39, 132, 173, 178, 232, 239, 241,
Alexander the Great 76 301–309, 311–353, 356, 358–360
Alfy, see: Péron see also: Disjecta, ‘The End’; Endgame;
anatomists, anatomy xxi–xxiii, 33, Molloy; Murphy; The Unnamable
227–228, 331, 249 Bekker, Immanuel 356
see also: body, human; physiology Bergson, Henri-Louis 301
ancients, see: Christians, ancients and Berkeley, George 301, 304, 359
Andala, Ruardus xxviii–xxix, 356 blessedness xix, xxxi, 16, 38, 58–59,
André, Yves Marie xxii, 358 75, 171, 203, 210, 284, 285, 324,
antipathy of the vicious 145–149, 337
176 see also: beatitude
Apollo 31, 125 body 155, 293
approbation 11, 98, 170, 174–175, human xi, xxiii, xxvi, xxxv, xl, 11,
177, 183, 268, 312, 313–314 23, 29–30, 32–35, 39–48, 50,
Aquinas 100, 356 53–55, 60, 62, 64, 67, 74–75, 77,
Aristotelians, Aristotelianism xvii, 17, 83–84, 87, 109–110, 114, 119,
76, 110, 186–189, 215, 297, 298, 122, 140, 165, 170–173, 194–195,
318 197, 219, 223–225, 227–229,
see also: Aristotle; Peripatetics, 231–233, 235–244, 246, 248–249,
Peripatetic philosophy; Scholastics, 251, 257–258, 261–262, 265–272,
Scholasticism, Scholastic 277–278, 281, 313–314, 318, 321,
philosophy 326–334, 339–351
362 index
Schuyl, Florentius xxi–xxii, 228, 357, ‘The End’, see: ‘End’, (The) 304
358, 359 The Unnamable, see: Unnamable, The
Scipio (= P. Cornelius Scipio Africanus Thijssen-Schoute, C. Louise 196, 360
Maior) 50, 53, 348 Thomasius, Christian xxxviii
Selby-Bigge, L.A. xxxix, 357 Thulstrup, Niels xxxvii, 357
self-abandonment 39 trust 11, 26, 169, 314
Seneca xvii–xx, 41–43, 50, 53, 69, Tuinman, Carolus xxxvi, 358
90, 100, 154, 250–253, 256–261,
274, 286, 339, 341–342, 355, 358 ubi nihil vales, ibi nihil velis, see: axiom
see also: Pseudo-Seneca Unnamable, The 241, 305–306
servants, examples of 70–71, 99, 124,
207–208, 239–240, 245–246, 262, Valla, Lorenzo 28, 357
265, 297, 338 Vander Haeghen, Victor xvi, xxxii,
see also: slaves, examples of 157, 360
of God 36, 269, 286 Verbeek, Theo 196, 360
sheepishness 27, 211–213 Verhoeven, Cornelis xviii,
sin, the penalty of xxxii, 142–145 xxxvi–xxxix, 168, 229, 264, 286,
slaves, examples of 24–25, 239, 323 357, 359–360
in Plato 114 Virgil 21, 28, 82, 83, 355
see also: servants, examples of virtue, enemies of 118–119, 124–125,
sloth 36, 211–212 213, 299
Socrates 13, 50, 140, 348 rewards of 127–149, 176, 189, 204,
softness 80–82 291, 293
soldier, example of the 42, 138, 260 House of Virtue 265, 274–275
Solon 126 virtues, cardinal 11–66, 68, 74, 82,
Sperna Weiland, J. 39, 359 128, 167–296, 311–353
Spinoza, Benedictus de xvii, xxi, xxiv, particular 64–93, 190, 296–297
xxvii–xxxi, xxxiii–xxxvi, 169, Vleeschauwer, Herman J. de ix, xliii,
301–304, 306, 358–360 357
Steno, Nicolaus xxii Voetius, Gisbertus xxiv, 280, 358,
Stensen, see: Steno 360
Stoicism, Stoics, Stoic (moral) Volaterrano, Raphael 28, 357
philosophy xvii, xxvii, xxx, 41, 69, volition xxv, 36
72, 78–80, 110, 114–115, 118, see also: will
131–132, 180, 256–257, 297
Stoothoff, Robert ix, 356 Wielema, Michiel xxxvi, 360
Strickers, Susanna xv will xxii, xxv–xxvi, xxxix, 31–44, 70,
stupor 27, 76–78, 82, 120, 211, 296 79, 81, 83, 95, 97, 101–102, 121,
sufficiency 28–29, 215–217, 324–326 137–138, 168, 202, 207–209, 222,
suicide xvii, xxv, xxxi, 39–44, 160, 229–233, 237–245, 245–262, 265,
246–262, 267, 306, 339–343, 345 268–270, 278, 280–281, 284, 305,
see also: obligations, second 328–337, 339–343, 346–347, 351
superstition 87, 91, 212–214, 284, free xxix, 16, 63, 128
325 God’s xv, xxv, xxxix, 16, 36–38,
sycophancy 63, 214 39–44, 47, 48, 56, 59, 101, 126,
140, 181–184, 207, 241–242,
Tacitus 77, 355 245–262, 265, 268, 317, 328–337,
Tannery, Paul ix, 356 339–343, 347
task, see: Reason, attributes of see also: volition
temperance 7, 21–22, 65–67, 73–78, see also: minded, to be
80, 82, 87, 120, 190, 297, 311 wisdom xviii, xxvi–xxvii, xxxii, lx,
Ten Hoorn, Timotheus xxxv 3–4, 13, 21–22, 41, 45, 49, 75, 114,
Terence 126, 162, 355 134, 141, 145, 147, 152, 155, 162,
368 index
110. SCHUCHARD, M.K., Restoring the Temple of Vision. Cabalistic Freemasonry and
Stuart Culture. 2002. ISBN 90 04 12489 6
111. EIJNATTEN, J. VAN. Liberty and Concord in the United Provinces. Religious Toleration
and the Public in the Eighteenth-Century Netherlands. 2003.
ISBN 90 04 12843 3
112. BOS, A.P. The Soul and Its Instrumental Body. A Reinterpretation of Aristotle’s Philoso-
phy of Living Nature. 2003. ISBN 90 04 13016 0
113. LAURSEN, J.C. & J. VAN DER ZANDE (eds.). Early French and German Defenses of
Liberty of the Press. Elie Luzac’s Essay on Freedom of Expression (1749) and Carl Friedrich
Bahrdt’s On Liberty of the Press and its Limits (1787) in English Translation. 2003.
ISBN 90 04 13017 9
114. POTT, S., M. MULSOW & L. DANNEBERG (eds.). The Berlin Refuge 1680-1780.
Learning and Science in European Context. 2003. ISBN 90 04 12561 2
115. GERSH, S. & B. ROEST (eds.). Medieval and Renaissance Humanism. Rhetoric, Repre-
sentation and Reform. 2003. ISBN 90 04 13274 0
116. LENNON, T.M. (ed.). Cartesian Views. Papers presented to Richard A. Watson. 2003.
ISBN 90 04 13299 6
117. VON MARTELS, Z. & A. VANDERJAGT (eds.). Pius II – ‘El Più Expeditivo Pontefice’.
Selected Studies on Aeneas Silvius Piccolomini (1405-1464). 2003.
ISBN 90 04 13190 6
118. GOSMAN, M., A. MACDONALD & A. VANDERJAGT (eds.). Princes and Princely
Culture 1450–1650. Volume One. 2003. ISBN 90 04 13572 3
119. LEHRICH, C.I. The Language of Demons and Angels. Cornelius Agrippa’s Occult Philos-
ophy. 2003. ISBN 90 04 13574 X
120. BUNGE, W. VAN (ed.). The Early Enlightenment in the Dutch Republic, 1650–1750.
Selected Papers of a Conference held at the Herzog August Bibliothek, Wolfenbüttel
22–23 March 2001. 2003. ISBN 90 04 13587 1
121. ROMBURGH, S. VAN, “For My Worthy Freind Mr Franciscus Junius.” An Edition of the
Correspondence of Francis Junius F.F. (1591-1677). 2004. ISBN 90 04 12880 8
122. MULSOW, M. & R.H. POPKIN (eds.). Secret Conversions to Judaism in Early Modern
Europe. 2004. ISBN 90 04 12883 2
123. GOUDRIAAN, K., J. VAN MOOLENBROEK & A. TERVOORT (eds.). Educa-tion
and Learning in the Netherlands, 1400-1600. 2004. ISBN 90 04 13644 4
124. PETRINA, A. Cultural Politics in Fifteenth-Century England: The Case of Humphrey, Duke of
Gloucester. 2004. ISBN 90 04 13713 0
125. SCHUURMAN, P. Ideas, Mental Faculties and Method. The Logic of Ideas of Descartes
and Locke and Its Reception in the Dutch Republic, 1630–1750. 2004.
ISBN 90 04 13716 5
126. BOCKEN, I. Conflict and Reconciliation: Perspectives on Nicholas of Cusa. 2004.
ISBN 90 04 13826 9
127. OTTEN, W. From Paradise to Paradigm. A Study of Twelfth-Century Humanism. 2004.
ISBN 90 04 14061 1
128. VISSER, A.S.Q. Joannes Sambucus and the Learned Image. The Use of the Emblem in
Late-Renaissance Humanism. 2005. ISBN 90 04 13866 8
129. MOOIJ, J.J.A. Time and Mind. History of a Philosophical Problem. 2005.
ISBN 90 04 14152 9
130. BEJCZY, I.P. & R.G. NEWHAUSER (eds.). Virtue and Ethics in the Twelfth Century. 2005.
ISBN 90 04 14327 0
131. FISHER, S. Pierre Gassendi’s Philosophy and Science. Atomism for Empiricists. 2005.
ISBN 90 04 11996 5
132. WILSON, S.A. Virtue Reformed. Rereading Jonathan Edwards’s Ethics. 2005.
ISBN 90 04 14300 9
133. KIRCHER, T. The Poet’s Wisdom. The Humanists, the Church, and the Formation of
Philosophy in the Early Renaissance. 2005. ISBN 90 04 14637 7
134. MULSOW, M. & J. ROHLS (eds.). Socinianism and Arminianism. Antitrinitarians,
Calvinists and Cultural Exchange in Seventeenth-Century Europe. 2005.
ISBN 90 04 14715 2
135. RIETBERGEN, P. Power and Religion in Baroque Rome. Barberini Cultural Policies. 2006.
ISBN 90 04 14893 0
136. CELENZA, C. & K. GOUWENS (eds.). Humanism and Creativity in the Renaissance.
Essays in Honor of Ronald G. Witt. 2006. ISBN 90 04 14907 4
137. AKKERMAN, F. & P. STEENBAKKERS (eds.). Spinoza to the Letter. Studies in Words,
Texts and Books. 2005. ISBN 90 04 14946 5
138. FINKELSTEIN, A. The Grammar of Profit: The Price Revolution in Intellectual Context.
2006. ISBN 90 04 14958 9
139. ITTERSUM, M.J. VAN. Profit and Principle. Hugo Grotius, Natural Rights Theories
and the Rise of Dutch Power in the East Indies, 1595-1615. 2006.
ISBN 90 04 14979 1
140. KLAVER, J.M.I. The Apostle of the Flesh: A Critical Life of Charles Kingsley. 2006.
ISBN-13: 978 90 04 15128 4, ISBN-10: 90 04 15128 1
141. HIRVONEN, V., T.J. HOLOPAINEN & M. TUOMINEN (eds.). Mind and Modality.
Studies in the History of Philosophy in Honour of Simo Knuuttila. 2006.
ISBN-13: 978 90 04 15144 4, ISBN-10: 90 04 15144 3
142. DAVENPORT, A.A. Descartes’s Theory of Action. 2006. ISBN-13: 978 90 04 15205 2,
ISBN-10: 90 04 15205 9
143. MAZZOCCO, A. Interpretations of Renaissance Humanism. 2006.
ISBN-13: 978 90 04 15244 1, ISBN-10: 90 04 15244 X
144. VERBAAL, W., Y. MAES & J. PAPY (eds.). Latinitas Perennis, Volume I: The Continuity of
Latin Literature. 2007. ISBN-13: 978 90 04 15327 1, ISBN-10: 90 04 15327 6
145. BOULTON, D’ARCY J.D. & J.R. VEENSTRA (eds.). The Ideology of Burgundy. The
Promotion of National Consciousness, 1364-1565. 2006.
ISBN-13: 978 90 04 15359 2, ISBN-10: 90 04 15359 4
146. RULER, H. VAN, A. UHLMANN & M. WILSON (eds.). Arnold Geulincx Ethics. With
Samuel Beckett’s Notes. Translated by M. Wilson. 2006. ISBN-13: 978 90 04 15467 4,
ISBN-10: 90 04 15467 1 (Published as Vol. 1 in the subseries Brill’s Texts and Sources in
Intellectual History)