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Do you find any flaw in Polyander’s reasoning, or anything inconsistent?
Would you have believed that an unlettered man, who has never studied, could reason so well and follow his ideas with such rigor?
Here, if I am not mistaken, you must begin to see that one who knows how to use doubt properly can derive from it very certain knowledge—even more certain and more useful, perhaps, than that derived from the great principle we usually establish as the base or center to which all other principles are related: that it is impossible for one and the same thing to be and not be. I may have the opportunity to demonstrate its usefulness to you.
Everything Polyander has said is not based on a legitimate foundation and proves nothing.
You say that:
- you exist
- you know that you exist
- you know it because you doubt and because you think.
But do you know what doubt is? Do you know what thinking is?
Since you refuse to admit anything of which you are not certain and which you do not perfectly understand, how can you be certain that you exist, starting from data that are so obscure and consequently so uncertain?
Therefore, it would have been necessary first to teach Polyander what doubt is, what thought is, what existence is, so that his reasoning could have the force of a demonstration, and so that he could first understand himself before attempting to be understood by others.
That’s beyond my ability, so I give up and leave you to untangle this knot with Epistemon.
This time, I gladly take on the task—but on one condition: that you will be the judge of our dispute, for I dare not hope that Epistemon will yield to my reasoning. One who, like him, is full of ready-made opinions and burdened with countless prejudices can hardly surrender himself to the pure light of nature. He has long been accustomed to yield to authority rather than listen to the voice of his own reason.
He prefers to question others and to weigh what the ancients have written rather than to consult himself about the judgment he ought to make.
Since from his youth he mistook as reason that which rested solely on the authority of precepts, he now mistakes his own authority for reason, and he wants others to pay him the same tribute he once paid to others. But I shall consider myself satisfied and shall believe I have adequately answered the objections posed by Epistemon if you give your assent to what I say and if your reason convinces you of it.
I am not so rebellious nor so difficult to persuade, and it is not as hard to satisfy me as you think.
In fact, although I have reasons to be wary of Polyander, I willingly agree to submit our dispute to his arbitration; and as soon as he sides with you, I promise to admit defeat. But he must be careful not to let himself be deceived or fall into the same error he reproaches in others—that is, taking as a reason for persuasion the esteem he has conceived for you.
If he were to rely on such a weak foundation, he would poorly understand his own interest, and I promise he will be cautious. But let us return to our subject.
I quite agree with you, Epistemon, that one must understand what doubt is, and what thought is, before being fully convinced of the truth of the reasoning: I doubt, therefore I am—or, what comes to the same, I think, therefore I am. But don’t imagine that in order to know this, we must torture our minds, force them to discover the nearest genus, and determine the essential difference, and thus construct a textbook definition. Let’s leave that to those who wish to play the professor or dispute in the schools.
Anyone who wants to examine things for himself and judge them as he conceives them, cannot be so lacking in reason as not to clearly see, whenever he pays attention, what doubt is, what thought is, what existence is—and cannot possibly need to learn their distinctions.
There are things we render more obscure by attempting to define them because, being very simple and very clear, they cannot be better understood than by themselves. Moreover, we must count among the major errors committed in the sciences the opinion of those who attempt to define what can only be conceived, and distinguish between what is clear and what is obscure—who cannot discern what, in order to be known, requires and deserves a definition from what can be perfectly known in itself. Among the things that are in themselves clear and self-evident, we must count doubt, thought, and existence.
I do not believe anyone has ever existed so dull as to need to learn what existence is before being able to affirm who he is; the same goes for thought and doubt.
I even add that it is impossible to learn these things from anyone but oneself, and to be convinced of them by any means other than personal experience and the inner consciousness and testimony each one finds within when he examines things.
In vain would we define what white is to explain it to someone who sees absolutely nothing—for to know white, one only needs to open their eyes and see white; likewise, to know what doubt and thought are, one only needs to doubt and think.
That alone teaches us all that can be known about them and tells us more than even the most precise definitions. It is therefore true that Polyander must have known these things before he could draw the conclusions he has advanced; but, since we have chosen him as our judge, let us ask him whether he has ever been ignorant of what these things are.
Indeed, I confess that I listened to your discussion with great pleasure about something you could only know through me, and I am not without some joy to see that—at least in this case—I must be acknowledged as your teacher, and you as my disciples. So, to spare you both the trouble and promptly resolve your difficulty (for something is said to be quickly done when it happens sooner than hoped or expected), I can affirm with certainty that I have never doubted what doubt is, even if I only began to know it—or rather to think about it—at the moment when Epistemon sought to cast doubt upon it.
No sooner had you shown me how uncertain our knowledge is of things known only through the senses than I began to doubt them, and that alone was enough for me to know doubt and, at the same time, certainty—such that I can affirm that as soon as I began to doubt, I began to know with certainty. But my doubt and my certainty did not concern the same things: my doubt regarded external things, outside myself; my certainty concerned myself and my doubt.
Eudoxe was therefore right when he said that there are things we cannot learn without experiencing them for ourselves; and just as with existence, to know what doubt and thought are, one only needs to think and to doubt. The same goes for existence: one only needs to understand what is meant by the word, and immediately one knows what it is—as much as it can be known. And here, no definition is needed, which would only confuse rather than clarify.
Since Polyander is satisfied, I also give my assent.
However, I do not see that in the two hours we have spent here reasoning, he has made much progress. All that Polyander has learned through this admirable method you praise so much is simply that he doubts, that he thinks, and that he is a thinking being.
A fine discovery indeed! So many words for so little! One could have said as much in four words, and we would all have agreed.
As for me, if I had to spend so much time and effort to learn something so trivial, I admit I would be reluctant to do so. Our masters tell us far more; they are much more confident: nothing stops them; they take everything upon themselves and decide everything.
Nothing diverts them from their purpose, nothing astonishes them, no matter what happens; and when they feel too pressured, a bit of ambiguity or a distinction saves them from all difficulty. What’s more, be assured that their method will always be preferred over yours—which doubts everything and is so afraid to stumble that, by always treading cautiously, it never advances.
I have never intended to prescribe to anyone the method they should follow in their search for truth, but only to present the one I have used myself, so that, if it is found lacking, it may be rejected; and if found good and useful, others may use it too.
I have always left everyone complete freedom to judge and to either accept or reject it. If it is now said that it has brought me little progress, experience must decide;
I am certain, if you continue to grant me your attention, you will yourselves admit that we cannot take too many precautions when establishing our foundations, and that once these are solidly laid, we will push conclusions further and with much more ease than we would have dared hope; so much so that I believe all the errors in the sciences come from the fact that, at the outset, we passed judgment too hastily by accepting as principles things that were obscure, with no clear or distinct notion of them.
This is a truth that proves how little progress we have made in the sciences whose principles are certain and known by all. On the other hand, in those sciences where the principles are obscure or uncertain, those who sincerely wish to express their thoughts will be forced to admit that, after much time spent and many heavy volumes read, they realize they know nothing and have learned nothing. So do not be surprised, my dear Epistemon, if, in wishing to guide Polyander along the safer path that has led me to knowledge, I am so careful and precise that I consider true only what I am certain of—namely the following propositions: I am, I think, I am a thinking being.
You seem to me to resemble those authors who always land on their feet, you return so often to your principle. Yet if you continue at this pace, you will go neither far nor fast. How, indeed, will you always find truths of which you are as certain as of your own existence?
That is not as difficult as you think; for all truths follow from one another and are connected by a common link. The entire secret consists in beginning with the first and simplest ones, and then gradually, step by step, rising to those that are more remote and complex.
Who will doubt that what I have stated as a principle is the very first thing we can know by any method? It is clear that we cannot doubt it, even if we were to doubt everything else in the world. Since we are thus certain of having begun well, in order not to be mistaken in what follows, we must take all possible care—and this is exactly what we are doing—to admit as true only that which is not subject to the slightest doubt. With this aim in mind, I believe we must let Polyander speak. Since he follows no other course but common sense, and his reason is untainted by any prejudice, it is unlikely that he will be misled—or at least, he would notice it easily and return to the right path without difficulty. So let us listen to him, and let him unfold the things which he himself says are contained in our principle.
There are so many things contained in the idea of a thinking being, that we would need entire days to unfold them. We will only deal with the main ones, those that help clarify the notion and prevent it from being confused with things unrelated to it. By a thinking being, I mean… (The rest is missing.)