XXXII.  Regret is the desire or appetite to possess something,
kept alive by the remembrance of the said thing, and at the same
time constrained by the remembrance of other things which exclude
the existence of it.
    Explanation-When we remember a thing, we are by that very
fact, as I have already said more than once, disposed to
contemplate it with the same emotion as if it were something
present; but this disposition or endeavour, while we are awake,
is generally checked by the images of things which exclude the
existence of that which we remember.  Thus when we remember
something which affected us with a certain pleasure, we by that
very fact endeavour to regard it with the same emotion of
pleasure as though it were present, but this endeavour is at once
checked by the remembrance of things which exclude the existence
of the thing in question.  Wherefore regret is, strictly
speaking, a pain opposed to that of pleasure, which arises from
the absence of something we hate (cf. III. xlvii. note).  But, as
the name regret seems to refer to desire, I set this emotion
down, among the emotions springing from desire.

XXXIII.  Emulation is the desire of something, engendered in us
by our conception that others have the same desire.
    Explanation-He who runs away, because he sees others running
away, or he who fears, because he sees others in fear; or again,
he who, on seeing that another man has burnt his hand, draws
towards him his own hand, and moves his body as though his own
were burnt; such an one can be said to imitate another's
emotion, but not to emulate him; not because the causes of
emulation and imitation are different, but because it has become
customary to speak of emulation only in him, who imitates that
which we deem to be honourable, useful, or pleasant.  As to the
cause of emulation, cf. III. xxvii. and note.  The reason why
this emotion is generally coupled with envy may be seen from III.
xxxii. and note.

XXXIV.  Thankfulness or Gratitude is the desire or zeal springing
from love, whereby we endeavour to benefit him, who with similar
feelings of love has conferred a benefit on us.  Cf. III. xxxix.
note and xl.

XXXV.  Benevolence is the desire of benefiting one whom we pity.
Cf. III. xxvii. note.

XXXVI.  Anger is the desire, whereby through hatred we are
induced to injure one whom we hate, III. xxxix.

XXXVII.  Revenge is the desire whereby we are induced, through
mutual hatred, to injure one who, with similar feelings, has
injured us.  (See III. xl. Coroll. ii and note.)

XXXVIII.  Cruelty or savageness is the desire, whereby a man is
impelled to injure one whom we love or pity.
    Explanation-To cruelty is opposed clemency, which is not a
passive state of the mind, but a power whereby man restrains his
anger and revenge.

XXXIX.  Timidity is the desire to avoid a greater evil, which we
dread, by undergoing a lesser evil.  Cf. III. xxxix. note.

XL.  Daring is the desire, whereby a man is set on to do
something dangerous which his equals fear to attempt.

XLI.  Cowardice is attributed to one, whose desire is checked by
the fear of some danger which his equals dare to encounter.
    Explanation-Cowardice is, therefore, nothing else but the
fear of some evil, which most men are wont not to fear; hence I
do not reckon it among the emotions springing from desire.
Nevertheless, I have chosen to explain it here, because, in so
far as we look to the desire, it is truly opposed to the emotion
of daring.

XLII.  Consternation is attributed to one, whose desire of
avoiding evil is checked by amazement at the evil which he fears.
    Explanation-Consternation is, therefore, a species of
cowardice.  But, inasmuch as consternation arises from a double
fear, it may be more conveniently defined as a fear which keeps a
man so bewildered and wavering, that he is not able to remove the
evil.  I say bewildered, in so far as we understand his desire of
removing the evil to be constrained by his amazement.  I say
wavering, in so far as we understand the said desire to be
constrained by the fear of another evil, which equally torments
him: whence it comes to pass that he knows not, which he may
avert of the two.  On this subject, see III. xxxix. note, and
III. lii. note.  Concerning cowardice and daring, see III. li.
note.

XLIII.  Courtesy, or deference (Humanitas seu modestia), is the
desire of acting in a way that should please men, and refraining
from that which should displease them.

XLIV.  Ambition is the immoderate desire of power.
    Explanation-Ambition is the desire, whereby all the emotions
(cf. III. xxvii. and xxxi.) are fostered and strengthened;
therefore this emotion can with difficulty be overcome.  For, so
long as a man is bound by any desire, he is at the same time
necessarily bound by this.  "The best men," says Cicero, "are
especially led by honour.  Even philosophers, when they write a
book contemning honour, sign their names thereto," and so on.

XLV.  Luxury is excessive desire, or even love of living
sumptuously.

XLVI.  Intemperance is the excessive desire and love of drinking.

XLVII.  Avarice is the excessive desire and love of riches.

XLVIII.  Lust is desire and love in the matter of sexual
intercourse.
    Explanation-Whether this desire be excessive or not, it is
still called lust.  These last five emotions (as I have shown in
III. lvi.) have on contraries.  For deference is a species of
ambition.  Cf. III. xxix. note.
    Again, I have already pointed out, that temperance, sobriety,
and chastity indicate rather a power than a passivity of the
mind.  It may, nevertheless, happen, that an avaricious, an
ambitious, or a timid man may abstain from excess in eating,
drinking, or sexual indulgence, yet avarice, ambition, and fear
are not contraries to luxury, drunkenness, and debauchery.  For
an avaricious man often is glad to gorge himself with food and
drink at another man's expense.  An ambitious man will restrain
himself in nothing, so long as he thinks his indulgences are
secret; and if he lives among drunkards and debauchees, he will,
from the mere fact of being ambitious, be more prone to those
vices.  Lastly, a timid man does that which he would not.  For
though an avaricious man should, for the sake of avoiding death,
cast his riches into the sea, he will none the less remain
avaricious; so, also, if a lustful man is downcast, because he
cannot follow his bent, he does not, on the ground of abstention,
cease to be lustful.  In fact, these emotions are not so much
concerned with the actual feasting, drinking, &c., as with the
appetite and love of such.  Nothing, therefore, can be opposed to
these emotions, but high-mindedness and valour, whereof I will
speak presently.
    The definitions of jealousy and other waverings of the mind I
pass over in silence, first, because they arise from the
compounding of the emotions already described; secondly, because
many of them have no distinctive names, which shows that it is
sufficient for practical purposes to have merely a general
knowledge of them.  However, it is established from the
definitions of the emotions, which we have set forth, that they
all spring from desire, pleasure, or pain, or, rather, that there
is nothing besides these three; wherefore each is wont to be
called by a variety of names in accordance with its various
relations and extrinsic tokens.  If we now direct our attention
to these primitive emotions, and to what has been said concerning
the nature of the mind, we shall be able thus to define the
emotions, in so far as they are referred to the mind only.


GENERAL DEFINITION OF THE EMOTIONS

    Emotion, which is called a passivity of the soul, is a
confused idea, whereby the mind affirms concerning its body, or
any part thereof, a force for existence (existendi vis) greater
or less than before, and by the presence of which the mind is
determined to think of one thing rather than another.
    Explanation-I say, first, that emotion or passion of the soul
is a confused idea.  For we have shown that the mind is only
passive, in so far as it has inadequate or confused ideas.  (III.
iii.)  I say, further, whereby the mind affirms concerning its
body or any part thereof a force for existence greater than
before.  For all the ideas of bodies, which we possess, denote
rather the actual disposition of our own body (II. xvi. Coroll.
ii.) than the nature of an external body.  But the idea which
constitutes the reality of an emotion must denote or express the
disposition of the body, or of some part thereof, because its
power of action or force for existence is increased or
diminished, helped or hindered.  But it must be noted that, when
I say a greater or less force for existence than before, I do not
mean that the mind compares the present with the past disposition
of the body, but that the idea which constitutes the reality of
an emotion affirms something of the body, which, in fact,
involves more or less of reality than before.
    And inasmuch as the essence of mind consists in the fact (II.
xi., xiii.), that it affirms the actual existence of its own
body, and inasmuch as we understand by perfection the very
essence of a thing, it follows that the mind passes to greater or
less perfection, when it happens to affirm concerning its own
body, or any part thereof, something involving more or less
reality than before.
    When, therefore, I said above that the power of the mind is
increased or diminished, I merely meant that the mind had formed
of its own body, or of some part thereof, an idea involving more
or less of reality, than it had already affirmed concerning its
own body.  For the excellence of ideas, and the actual power of
thinking are measured by the excellence of the object.  Lastly, I
have added by the presence of which the mind is determined to
think of one thing rather than another, so that, besides the
nature of pleasure and pain, which the first part of the
definition explains, I might also express the nature of desire.




PART IV:

Of Human Bondage, or the Strength of the Emotions


PREFACE


    Human infirmity in moderating and checking the emotions I
name bondage: for, when a man is a prey to his emotions, he is
not his own master, but lies at the mercy of fortune: so much
so, that he is often compelled, while seeing that which is better
for him, to follow that which is worse.  Why this is so, and what
is good or evil in the emotions, I propose to show in this part
of my treatise.  But, before I begin, it would be well to make a
few prefatory observations on perfection and imperfection, good
and evil.
    When a man has purposed to make a given thing, and has
brought it to perfection, his work will be pronounced perfect,
not only by himself, but by everyone who rightly knows, or thinks
that he knows, the intention and aim of its author.  For
instance, suppose anyone sees a work (which I assume to be not
yet completed), and knows that the aim of the author of that work
is to build a house, he will call the work imperfect; he will,
on the other hand, call it perfect, as soon as he sees that it is
carried through to the end, which its author had purposed for it.
But if a man sees a work, the like whereof he has never seen
before, and if he knows not the intention of the artificer, he
plainly cannot know, whether that work be perfect or imperfect.
Such seems to be the primary meaning of these terms.
    But, after men began to form general ideas, to think out
types of houses, buildings, towers, &c., and to prefer certain
types to others, it came about, that each man called perfect that
which he saw agree with the general idea he had formed of the
thing in question, and called imperfect that which he saw agree
less with his own preconceived type, even though it had evidently
been completed in accordance with the idea of its artificer.
This seems to be the only reason for calling natural phenomena,
which, indeed, are not made with human hands, perfect or
imperfect: for men are wont to form general ideas of things
natural, no less than of things artificial, and such ideas they
hold as types, believing that Nature (who they think does nothing
without an object) has them in view, and has set them as types
before herself.  Therefore, when they behold something in Nature,
which does not wholly conform to the preconceived type which they
have formed of the thing in question, they say that Nature has
fallen short or has blundered, and has left her work incomplete.
Thus we see that men are wont to style natural phenomena perfect
or imperfect rather from their own prejudices, than from true
knowledge of what they pronounce upon.
    Now we showed in the Appendix to Part I., that Nature does
not work with an end in view.  For the eternal and infinite
Being, which we call God or Nature, acts by the same necessity as
that whereby it exists.  For we have shown, that by the same
necessity of its nature, whereby it exists, it likewise works (I.
xvi.).  The reason or cause why God or Nature exists, and the
reason why he acts, are one and the same.  Therefore, as he does
not exist for the sake of an end, so neither does he act for the
sake of an end; of his existence and of his action there is
neither origin nor end.  Wherefore, a cause which is called final
is nothing else but human desire, in so far as it is considered
as the origin or cause of anything.  For example, when we say
that to be inhabited is the final cause of this or that house, we
mean nothing more than that a man, conceiving the conveniences of
household life, had a desire to build a house.  Wherefore, the
being inhabited, in so far as it is regarded as a final cause, is
nothing else but this particular desire, which is really the
efficient cause; it is regarded as the primary cause, because
men are generally ignorant of the causes of their desires.  They
are, as I have often said already, conscious of their own actions
and appetites, but ignorant of the causes whereby they are
determined to any particular desire.  Therefore, the common
saying that Nature sometimes falls short, or blunders, and
produces things which are imperfect, I set down among the glosses
treated of in the Appendix to Part I.  Perfection and
imperfection, then, are in reality merely modes of thinking, or
notions which we form from a comparison among one another of
individuals of the same species; hence I said above (II. Def.
vi.), that by reality and perfection I mean the same thing.  For
we are wont to refer all the individual things in nature to one
genus, which is called the highest genus, namely, to the category
of Being, whereto absolutely all individuals in nature belong.
Thus, in so far as we refer the individuals in nature to this
category, and comparing them one with another, find that some
possess more of being or reality than others, we, to this extent,
say that some are more perfect than others.  Again, in so far as
we attribute to them anything implying negation-as term, end,
infirmity, etc., we, to this extent, call them imperfect, because
they do not affect our mind so much as the things which we call
perfect, not because they have any intrinsic deficiency, or
because Nature has blundered.  For nothing lies within the scope
of a thing's nature, save that which follows from the necessity
of the nature of its efficient cause, and whatsoever follows from
the necessity of the nature of its efficient cause necessarily
comes to pass.
    As for the terms good and bad, they indicate no positive
quality in things regarded in themselves, but are merely modes of
thinking, or notions which we form from the comparison of things
one with another.  Thus one and the same thing can be at the same
time good, bad, and indifferent.  For instance, music is good for
him that is melancholy, bad for him that mourns; for him that is
deaf, it is neither good nor bad.
    Nevertheless, though this be so, the terms should still be
retained.  For, inasmuch as we desire to form an idea of man as a
type of human nature which we may hold in view, it will be useful
for us to retain the terms in question, in the sense I have
indicated.
    In what follows, then, I shall mean by, "good" that, which we
certainly know to be a means of approaching more nearly to the
type of human nature, which we have set before ourselves; by
"bad," that which we certainly know to be a hindrance to us in
approaching the said type.  Again, we shall that men are more
perfect, or more imperfect, in proportion as they approach more
or less nearly to the said type.  For it must be specially
remarked that, when I say that a man passes from a lesser to a
greater perfection, or vice versГў, I do not mean that he is
changed from one essence or reality to another; for instance, a
horse would be as completely destroyed by being changed into a
man, as by being changed into an insect.  What I mean is, that we
conceive the thing's power of action, in so far as this is
understood by its nature, to be increased or diminished.  Lastly,
by perfection in general I shall, as I have said, mean reality-in
other words, each thing's essence, in so far as it exists, and
operates in a particular manner, and without paying any regard to
its duration.  For no given thing can be said to be more perfect,
because it has passed a longer time in existence.  The duration
of things cannot be determined by their essence, for the essence
of things involves no fixed and definite period of existence;
but everything, whether it be more perfect or less perfect, will
always be able to persist in existence with the same force
wherewith it began to exist; wherefore, in this respect, all
things are equal.


DEFINITIONS.

I.  By good I mean that which we certainly know to be useful to
us.

II.  By evil I mean that which we certainly know to be a
hindrance
to us in the attainment of any good.
    (Concerning these terms see the foregoing preface towards the
end.)

III.  Particular things I call contingent in so far as, while
regarding their essence only, we find nothing therein, which
necessarily asserts their existence or excludes it.

IV.  Particular things I call possible in so far as, while
regarding the causes whereby they must be produced, we know not,
whether such causes be determined for producing them.
    (In I. xxxiii. note. i., I drew no distinction between
possible and contingent, because there was in that place no need
to distinguish them accurately.)

V.  By conflicting emotions I mean those which draw a man in
different directions, though they are of the same kind, such as
luxury and avarice, which are both species of love, and are
contraries, not by nature, but by accident.

VI.  What I mean by emotion felt towards a thing, future,
present, and past, I explained in III. xviii., notes. i. and ii.,
which see.
    (But I should here also remark, that we can only distinctly
conceive distance of space or time up to a certain definite limit;
that is, all objects distant from us more than two hundred
feet, or whose distance from the place where we are exceeds that
which we can distinctly conceive, seem to be an equal distance
from us, and all in the same plane; so also objects, whose time
of existing is conceived as removed from the present by a longer
interval than we can distinctly conceive, seem to be all equally
distant from the present, and are set down, as it were, to the
same moment of time.)

VII.  By an end, for the sake of which we do something, I mean a
desire.

VIII.  By virtue (virtus) and power I mean the same thing; that
is (III. vii), virtue, in so far as it is referred to man, is a
man's nature or essence, in so far as it has the power of
effecting what can only be understood by the laws of that nature.


AXIOM.

    There is no individual thing in nature, than which there is
not another more powerful and strong.  Whatsoever thing be given,
there is something stronger whereby it can be destroyed.


PROPOSITIONS.

PROP. I.  No positive quality possessed by a false idea is
removed by the presence of what is true, in virtue of its being
true.
    Proof.-Falsity consists solely in the privation of knowledge
which inadequate ideas involve (II. xxxv.), nor have they any
positive quality on account of which they are called false (II.
xxxiii.); contrariwise, in so far as they are referred to God,
they are true (II. xxxii.).  Wherefore, if the positive quality
possessed by a false idea were removed by the presence of what is
true, in virtue of its being true, a true idea would then be
removed by itself, which (IV. iii.) is absurd.  Therefore, no
positive quality possessed by a false idea, &c.  Q.E.D.
    Note.-This proposition is more clearly understood from II.
xvi. Coroll. ii.  For imagination is an idea, which indicates
rather the present disposition of the human body than the nature
of the external body; not indeed distinctly, but confusedly;
whence it comes to pass, that the mind is said to err.  For
instance, when we look at the sun, we conceive that it is distant
from us about two hundred feet; in this judgment we err, so long
as we are in ignorance of its true distance; when its true
distance is known, the error is removed, but not the imagination;
or, in other words, the idea of the sun, which only explains
tho nature of that luminary, in so far as the body is affected
thereby: wherefore, though we know the real distance, we shall
still nevertheless imagine the sun to be near us.  For, as we
said in II. xxxv. note, we do not imagine the sun to be so near
us, because we are ignorant of its true distance, but because the
mind conceives the magnitude of the sun to the extent that the
body is affected thereby.  Thus, when the rays of the sun falling
on the surface of water are reflected into our eyes, we imagine
the sun as if it were in the water, though we are aware of its
real position; and similarly other imaginations, wherein the
mind is deceived, whether they indicate the natural disposition
of the body, or that its power of activity is increased or
diminished, are not contrary to the truth, and do not vanish at
its presence.  It happens indeed that, when we mistakenly fear an
evil, the fear vanishes when we hear the true tidings; but the
contrary also happens, namely, that we fear an evil which will
certainly come, and our fear vanishes when we hear false tidings;
thus imaginations do not vanish at the presence of the truth,
in virtue of its being true, but because other imaginations,
stronger than the first, supervene and exclude the present
existence of that which we imagined, as I have shown in II. xvii.

PROP. II.  We are only passive, in so far as we are apart of
Nature, which cannot be conceived by itself without other parts.
    Proof.-We are said to be passive, when something arises in
us, whereof we are only a partial cause (III. Def. ii.), that is
(III. Def. i.), something which cannot be deduced solely from the
laws of our nature.  We are passive therefore, in so far as we
are a part of Nature, which cannot be conceived by itself without
other parts.  Q.E.D.

PROP. III.  The force whereby a man persists in existing is
limited, and is infinitely surpassed by the power of external
causes.
    Proof.-This is evident from the axiom of this part.  For,
when man is given, there is something else-say A-more powerful;
when A is given, there is something else-say B-more powerful than
A, and so on to infinity; thus the power of man is limited by
the power of some other thing, and is infinitely surpassed by the
power of external causes.  Q.E.D.

PROP. IV.  It is impossible, that man should not be a part of
Nature, or that he should be capable of undergoing no changes,
save such as can be understood through his nature only as their
adequate cause.
    Proof.-The power, whereby each particular thing, and
consequently man, preserves his being, is the power of God or of
Nature (I. xxiv. Coroll.); not in so far as it is infinite, but
in so far as it can be explained by the actual human essence
(III. vii.).  Thus the power of man, in so far as it is explained
through his own actual essence, is a part of the infinite power
of God or Nature, in other words, of the essence thereof (I.
xxxiv.).  This was our first point.  Again, if it were possible,
that man should undergo no changes save such as can be understood
solely through the nature of man, it would follow that he would
not be able to die, but would always necessarily exist; this
would be the necessary consequence of a cause whose power was
either finite or infinite; namely, either of man's power only,
inasmuch as he would be capable of removing from himself all
changes which could spring from external causes; or of the
infinite power of Nature, whereby all individual things would be
so ordered, that man should be incapable of undergoing any
changes save such as tended towards his own preservation.  But
the first alternative is absurd (by the last Prop., the proof of
which is universal, and can be applied to all individual things).
Therefore, if it be possible, that man should not be capable of
undergoing any changes, save such as can be explained solely
through his own nature, and consequently that he must always (as
we have shown) necessarily exist; such a result must follow from
the infinite power of God, and consequently (I. xvi.) from the
necessity of the divine nature, in so far as it is regarded as
affected by the idea of any given man, the whole order of nature
as conceived under the attributes of extension and thought must
be deducible.  It would therefore follow (I. xxi.) that man is
infinite, which (by the first part of this proof) is absurd.  It
is, therefore, impossible, that man should not undergo any
changes save those whereof he is the adequate cause.  Q.E.D.
    Corollary.-Hence it follows, that man is necessarily always a
prey to his passions, that he follows and obeys the general order
of nature, and that he accommodates himself thereto, as much as
the nature of things demands.

PROP. V.  The power and increase of every passion, and its
persistence in existing are not defined by the power, whereby we
ourselves endeavour to persist in existing, but by the power of
an external cause compared with our own.
    Proof.-The essence of a passion cannot be explained through
our essence alone (III. Deff. i. and ii.), that is (III. vii.),
the power of a passion cannot be defined by the power, whereby we
ourselves endeavour to persist in existing, but (as is shown in
II. xvi.) must necessarily be defined by the power of an external
cause compared with our own.  Q.E.D.

PROP. VI.  The force of any passion or emotion can overcome the
rest of a man's activities or power, so that the emotion becomes
obstinately fixed to him.
    Proof.-The force and increase of any passion and its
persistence in existing are defined by the power of an external
cause compared with our own (by the foregoing Prop.); therefore
(IV. iii.) it can overcome a man's power, &e.  Q.E.D.

PROP. VII.  An emotion can only be controlled or destroyed by
another emotion contrary thereto, and with more power for
controlling emotion.
    Proof.-Emotion, in so far as it is referred to the mind, is
an idea, whereby the mind affirms of its body a greater or less
force of existence than before (cf. the general Definition of the
Emotions at the end of Part III.).  When, therefore, the mind is
assailed by any emotion, the body is at the same time affected
with a modification whereby its power of activity is increased or
diminished.  Now this modification of the body (IV. v.) receives
from its cause the force for persistence in its being; which
force can only be checked or destroyed by a bodily cause (II.
vi.), in virtue of the body being affected with a modification
contrary to (III. v.) and stronger than itself (IV. Ax.);
wherefore (II. xii.) the mind is affected by the idea of a
modification contrary to, and stronger than the former
modification, in other words, (by the general definition of the
emotions) the mind will be affected by an emotion contrary to and
stronger than the former emotion, which will exclude or destroy
the existence of the former emotion; thus an emotion cannot be
destroyed nor controlled except by a contrary and stronger
emotion.  Q.E.D.
    Corollary.-An emotion, in so far as it is referred to the
mind, can only be controlled or destroyed through an idea of a
modification of the body contrary to, and stronger than, that
which we are undergoing.  For the emotion which we undergo can
only be checked or destroyed by an emotion contrary to, and
stronger than, itself, in other words, (by the general Definition
of the Emotions) only by an idea of a modification of the body
contrary to, and stronger than, the modification which we
undergo.

PROP. VIII.  The knowledge of good and evil is nothing else but
the emotions of pleasure or pain, in so far as we are conscious
thereof.
    Proof.-We call a thing good or evil, when it is of service or
the reverse in preserving our being (IV. Deff. i. and ii.), that
is (III. vii.), when it increases or diminishes, helps or
hinders, our power of activity.  Thus, in so far as we perceive
that a thing affects us with pleasure or pain, we call it good or
evil; wherefore the knowledge of good and evil is nothing else
but the idea of the pleasure or pain, which necessarily follows
from that pleasurable or painful emotion (II. xxii.).  But this
idea is united to the emotion in the same way as mind is united
to body (II. xxi.); that is, there is no real distinction
between this idea and the emotion or idea of the modification of
the body, save in conception only.  Therefore the knowledge of
good and evil is nothing else but the emotion, in so far as we
are conscious thereof.  Q.E.D.

PROP. IX.  An emotion, whereof we conceive the cause to be with
us at the present time, is stronger than if we did not conceive
the cause to be with us.
    Proof.-Imagination or conception is the idea, by which the
mind regards a thing as present (II. xvii. note), but which
indicates the disposition of the mind rather than the nature of
the external thing (II. xvi. Coroll. ii.).  An emotion is
therefore a conception, in so far as it indicates the disposition
of the body.  But a conception (by II. xvii.) is stronger, so
long as we conceive nothing which excludes the present existence
of the external object; wherefore an emotion is also stronger or
more intense, when we conceive the cause to be with us at the
present time, than when we do not conceive the cause to be with
us.  Q.E.D.
    Note.-When I said above in III. xviii. that we are affected
by the image of what is past or future with the same emotion as
if the thing conceived were present, I expressly stated, that
this is only true in so far as we look solely to the image of the
thing in question itself; for the thing's nature is unchanged,
whether we have conceived it or not; I did not deny that the
image becomes weaker, when we regard as present to us other
things which exclude the present existence of the future object:
I did not expressly call attention to the fact, because I
purposed to treat of the strength of the emotions in this part of
my work.
    Corollary.-The image of something past or future, that is, of
a thing which we regard as in relation to time past or time
future, to the exclusion of time present, is, when other
conditions are equal, weaker than the image of something present;
consequently an emotion felt towards what is past or future is
less intense, other conditions being equal, than an emotion felt
towards something present.

PROP. X.  Towards something future, which we conceive as close at
hand, we are affected more intensely, than if we conceive that
its time for existence is separated from the present by a longer
interval; so too by the remembrance of what we conceive to have
not long passed away we are affected more intensely, than if we
conceive that it has long passed away.
    Proof.-In so far as we conceive a thing as close at hand, or
not long passed away, we conceive that which excludes the
presence of the object less, than if its period of future
existence were more distant from the present, or if it had long
passed away (this is obvious) therefore (by the foregoing Prop.)
we are, so far, more intensely affected towards it.  Q.E.D.
    Corollary.-From the remarks made in Def. vi. of this part it
follows that, if objects are separated from the present by a
longer period than we can define in conception, though their
dates of occurrence be widely separated one from the other, they
all affect us equally faintly.

PROP. XI.  An emotion towards that which we conceive as necessary
is, when other conditions are equal, more intense than an emotion
towards that which possible, or contingent, or non-necessary.
    Proof.-In so far as we conceive a thing to be necessary, we,
to that extent, affirm its existence; on the other hand we deny
a thing's existence, in so far as we conceive it not to be
necessary (I. xxxiii. note. i.); wherefore (IV. ix.) an emotion
towards that which is necessary is, other conditions being equal,
more intense than an emotion that which is non-necessary.  Q.E.D.

PROP. XII.  An emotion towards a thing, which we know not to
exist at the present time, and which we conceive as possible, is
more intense, other conditions being equal, than an emotion
towards a thing contingent.
    Proof.-In so far as we conceive a thing as contingent, we are
affected by the conception of some further thing, which would
assert the existence of the former (IV. Def. iii.); but, on the
other hand, we (by hypothesis) conceive certain things, which
exclude its present existence.  But, in so far as we conceive a
thing to be possible in the future, we there by conceive things
which assert its existence (IV. iv.), that is (III. xviii.),
things which promote hope or fear: wherefore an emotion towards
something possible is more vehement.  Q.E.D.
    Corollary.-An emotion towards a thing, which we know not to
exist in the present, and which we conceive as contingent, is far
fainter, than if we conceive the thing to be present with us.
    Proof.-Emotion towards a thing, which we conceive to exist,
is more intense than it would be, if we conceived the thing as
future (IV. ix. Coroll.), and is much more vehement, than if the
future time be conceived as far distant from the present (IV.
x.).  Therefore an emotion towards a thing, whose period of
existence we conceive to be far distant from the present, is far
fainter, than if we conceive the thing as present; it is,
nevertheless, more intense, than if we conceived the thing as
contingent, wherefore an emotion towards a thing, which we regard
as contingent, will be far fainter, than if we conceived the
thing to be present with us.  Q.E.D.

PROP. XIII.  Emotion towards a thing contingent, which we know
not to exist in the present, is, other conditions being equal,
fainter than an emotion towards a thing past.
    Proof.-In so far as we conceive a thing as contingent, we are
not affected by the image of any other thing, which asserts the
existence of the said thing (IV. Def. iii.), but, on the other
hand (by hypothesis), we conceive certain things excluding its
present existence.  But, in so far as we conceive it in relation
to time past, we are assumed to conceive something, which recalls
the thing to memory, or excites the image thereof (II. xviii. and
note), which is so far the same as regarding it as present (II.
xvii. Coroll.).  Therefore (IV. ix.) an emotion towards a thing
contingent, which we know does not exist in the present, is
fainter, other conditions being equal, than an emotion towards a
thing past.  Q.E.D.

PROP. XIV.  A true knowledge of good and evil cannot check any
emotion by virtue of being true, but only in so far as it is
considered as an emotion.
    Proof.-An emotion is an idea, whereby the mind affirms of its
body a greater or less force of existing than before (by the
general Definition of the Emotions); therefore it has no
positive quality, which can be destroyed by the presence of what
is true; consequently the knowledge of good and evil cannot, by
virtue of being true, restrain any emotion.  But, in so far as
such knowledge is an emotion (IV. viii.) if it have more strength
for restraining emotion, it will to that extent be able to
restrain the given emotion.  Q.E.D.

PROP. XV.  Desire arising from the knowledge of good and bad can
be quenched or checked by many of the other desires arising from
the emotions whereby we are assailed.
    Proof.-From the true knowledge of good and evil, in so far as
it is an emotion, necessarily arises desire (Def. of the
Emotions, i.), the strength of which is proportioned to the
strength of the emotion wherefrom it arises (III. xxxvii.).  But,
inasmuch as this desire arises (by hypothesis) from the fact of
our truly understanding anything, it follows that it is also
present with us, in so far as we are active (III. i.), and must
therefore be understood through our essence only (III. Def. ii.);
consequently (III. vii.) its force and increase can be defined
solely by human power.  Again, the desires arising from the
emotions whereby we are assailed are stronger, in proportion as
the said emotions are more vehement; wherefore their force and
increase must be defined solely by the power of external causes,
which, when compared with our own power, indefinitely surpass it
(IV. iii.); hence the desires arising from like emotions may be
more vehement, than the desire which arises from a true knowledge
of good and evil, and may, consequently, control or quench it.
Q.E.D.

PROP. XVI.  Desire arising from the knowledge of good and evil,
in so far as such knowledge regards what is future, may be more
easily controlled or quenched, than the desire for what is
agreeable at the present moment.
    Proof.-Emotion towards a thing, which we conceive as future,
is fainter than emotion towards a thing that is present (IV. ix.
Coroll.).  But desire, which arises from the true knowledge of
good and evil, though it be concerned with things which are good
at the moment, can be quenched or controlled by any headstrong
desire (by the last Prop., the proof whereof is of universal
application).  Wherefore desire arising from such knowledge, when
concerned with the future, can be more easily controlled or
quenched, &c.  Q.E.D.

PROP. XVII.  Desire arising from the true knowledge of good and
evil, in so far as such knowledge is concerned with what is
contingent, can be controlled far more easily still, than desire
for things that are present.
    Proof.-This Prop. is proved in the same way as the last Prop.
from IV. xii. Coroll.
    Note.-I think I have now shown the reason, why men are moved
by opinion more readily than by true reason, why it is that the
true knowledge of good and evil stirs up conflicts in the soul,
and often yields to every kind of passion.  This state of things
gave rise to the exclamation of the poet:[12]--
"The better path I gaze at and approve,
The worse-I follow."

[12] Ov. Met. vii.20, "Video meliora proboque, Deteriora sequor."

    Ecclesiastes seems to have had the same thought in his mind,
when he says, "He who increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow."  I
have not written the above with the object of drawing the
conclusion, that ignorance is more excellent than knowledge, or
that a wise man is on a par with a fool in controlling his
emotions, but because it is necessary to know the power and the
infirmity of our nature, before we can determine what reason can
do in restraining the emotions, and what is beyond her power.  I
have said, that in the present part I shall merely treat of human
infirmity.  The power of reason over the emotions I have settled
to treat separately.

PROP. XVIII.  Desire arising from pleasure is, other conditions
being equal, stronger than desire arising from pain.
    Proof.-Desire is the essence of a man (Def. of the Emotions,
i.), that is, the endeavour whereby a man endeavours to persist
in his own being.  Wherefore desire arising from pleasure is, by
the fact of pleasure being felt, increased or helped; on the
contrary, desire arising from pain is, by the fact of pain being
felt, diminished or hindered; hence the force of desire arising
from pleasure must be defined by human power together with the
power of an external cause, whereas desire arising from pain must
be defined by human power only.  Thus the former is the stronger
of the two.  Q.E.D.
    Note.-In these few remarks I have explained the causes of
human infirmity and inconstancy, and shown why men do not abide
by the precepts of reason.  It now remains for me to show what
course is marked out for us by reason, which of the emotions are
in harmony with the rules of human reason, and which of them are
contrary thereto.  But, before I begin to prove my Propositions
in detailed geometrical fashion, it is advisable to sketch them
briefly in advance, so that everyone may more readily grasp my
meaning.
    As reason makes no demands contrary to nature, it demands,
that every man should love himself, should seek that which is
useful to him-I mean, that which is really useful to him, should
desire everything which really brings man to greater perfection,
and should, each for himself, endeavour as far as he can to
preserve his own being.  This is as necessarily true, as that a
whole is greater than its part.  (Cf. III. iv.)
    Again, as virtue is nothing else but action in accordance
with the laws of one's own nature (IV. Def. viii.), and as no one
endeavours to preserve his own being, except in accordance with
the laws of his own nature, it follows, first, that the
foundation of virtue is the endeavour to preserve one's own
being, and that happiness consists in man's power of preserving
his own being; secondly, that virtue is to be desired for its
own sake, and that there is nothing more excellent or more useful
to us, for the sake of which we should desire it; thirdly and
lastly, that suicides are weak-minded, and are overcome by
external causes repugnant to their nature.  Further, it follows
from Postulate iv., Part II., that we can never arrive at doing
without all external things for the preservation of our being or
living, so as to have no relations with things which are outside
ourselves.  Again, if we consider our mind, we see that our
intellect would be more imperfect, if mind were alone, and could
understand nothing besides itself.  There are, then, many things
outside ourselves, which are useful to us, and are, therefore, to
be desired.  Of such none can be discerned more excellent, than
those which are in entire agreement with our nature.  For if, for
example, two individuals of entirely the same nature are united,
they form a combination twice as powerful as either of them
singly.
    Therefore, to man there is nothing more useful than
man-nothing, I repeat, more excellent for preserving their being
can be wished for by men, than that all should so in all points
agree, that the minds and bodies of all should form, as it were,
one single mind and one single body, and that all should, with
one consent, as far as they are able, endeavour to preserve their
being, and all with one consent seek what is useful to them all.
Hence, men who are governed by reason-that is, who seek what is
useful to them in accordance with reason, desire for themselves
nothing, which they do not also desire for the rest of mankind,
and, consequently, are just, faithful, and honourable in their
conduct.
    Such are the dictates of reason, which I purposed thus
briefly to indicate, before beginning to prove them in greater
detail.  I have taken this course, in order, if possible, to gain
the attention of those who believe, that the principle that every
man is bound to seek what is useful for himself is the foundation
of impiety, rather than of piety and virtue.
    Therefore, after briefly showing that the contrary is the
case, I go on to prove it by the same method, as that whereby I
have hitherto proceeded.

PROP. XIX.  Every man, by the laws of his nature, necessarily
desires or shrinks from that which he deems to be good or bad.
    Proof.-The knowledge of good and evil is (IV. viii.) the
emotion of pleasure or pain, in so far as we are conscious
thereof; therefore, every man necessarily desires what he thinks
good, and shrinks from what he thinks bad.  Now this appetite is
nothing else but man's nature or essence (Cf. the Definition of
Appetite, III. ix. note, and Def. of the Emotions, i.).
Therefore, every man, solely by the laws of his nature, desires
the one, and shrinks from the other, &c.  Q.E.D.

PROP. XX.  The more every man endeavours, and is able to seek
what is useful to him-in other words, to preserve his own
being-the more is he endowed with virtue; on the contrary, in
proportion as a man neglects to seek what is useful to him, that
is, to preserve his own being, he is wanting in power.
    Proof.-Virtue is human power, which is defined solely by
man's essence (IV. Def. viii.), that is, which is defined solely
by the endeavour made by man to persist in his own being.
Wherefore, the more a man endeavours, and is able to preserve his
own being, the more is he endowed with virtue, and, consequently
(III. iv. and vi.), in so far as a man neglects to preserve his
own being, he is wanting in power.  Q.E.D.
    Note.-No one, therefore, neglects seeking his own good, or
preserving his own being, unless he be overcome by causes
external and foreign to his nature.  No one, I say, from the
necessity of his own nature, or otherwise than under compulsion
from external causes, shrinks from food, or kills himself: which
latter may be done in a variety of ways.  A man, for instance,
kills himself under the compulsion of another man, who twists
round his right hand, wherewith he happened to have taken up a
sword, and forces him to turn the blade against his own heart;
or, again, he may be compelled, like Seneca, by a tyrant's
command, to open his own veins-that is, to escape a greater evil
by incurring, a lesser; or, lastly, latent external causes may
so disorder his imagination, and so affect his body, that it may
assume a nature contrary to its former one, and whereof the idea
cannot exist in the mind (III. x.) But that a man, from the
necessity of his own nature, should endeavour to become
non-existent, is as impossible as that something should be made
out of nothing, as everyone will see for himself, after a little
reflection.

PROP. XXI.  No one can desire to be blessed, to act rightly, and
to live rightly, without at the same time wishing to be, act, and
to live-in other words, to actually exist.
    Proof.-The proof of this proposition, or rather the
proposition itself, is self-evident, and is also plain from the
definition of desire.  For the desire of living, acting, &c.,
blessedly or rightly, is (Def. of the Emotions, i.) the essence
of man-that is (III. vii.), the endeavour made by everyone to
preserve his own being.  Therefore, no one can desire, &c.
Q.E.D.

PROP. XXII.  No virtue can be conceived as prior to this
endeavour to preserve one's own being.
    Proof.-The effort for self-preservation is the essence of a
thing (III. vii.); therefore, if any virtue could be conceived
as prior thereto, the essence of a thing would have to be
conceived as prior to itself, which is obviously absurd.
Therefore no virtue, &c.  Q.E.D.
    Corollary.-The effort for self-preservation is the first and
only foundation of virtue.  For prior to this principle nothing
can be conceived, and without it no virtue can be conceived.

PROP. XXIII.  Man, in so far as he is determined to a particular
action because he has inadequate ideas, cannot be absolutely said
to act in obedience to virtue; he can only be so described, in
so far as he is determined for the action because he understands.
    Proof.-In so far as a man is determined to an action through
having inadequate ideas, he is passive (III. i.), that is (III.
Deff. i., and iii.), he does something, which cannot be perceived
solely through his essence, that is (by IV. Def. viii.), which
does not follow from his virtue.  But, in so far as he is
determined for an action because he understands, he is active;
that is, he does something, which is perceived through his
essence alone, or which adequately follows from his virtue.
Q.E.D.

PROP. XXIV.  To act absolutely in obedience to virtue is in us
the same thing as to act, to live, or to preserve one's being
(these three terms are identical in meaning) in accordance with
the dictates of reason on the basis of seeking what is useful to
one's self.
    Proof.-To act absolutely in obedience to virtue is nothing
else but to act according to the laws of one's own nature.  But
we only act, in so far as we understand (III. iii.): therefore
to act in obedience to virtue is in us nothing else but to act,
to live, or to preserve one's being in obedience to reason, and
that on the basis of seeking what is useful for us (IV. xxii.
Coroll.).  Q.E.D.

PROP. XXV.  No one wishes to preserve his being for the sake of
anything else.
    Proof.-The endeavour, wherewith everything endeavours to
persist in its being, is defined solely by the essence of the
thing itself (III. vii.); from this alone, and not from the
essence of anything else, it necessarily follows (III. vi.) that
everyone endeavours to preserve his being.  Moreover, this
proposition is plain from IV. xxii. Coroll., for if a man should
endeavour to preserve his being for the sake of anything else,
the last-named thing would obviously be the basis of virtue,
which, by the foregoing corollary, is absurd.  Therefore no one,
&c.  Q.E.D.

PROP. XXVI.  Whatsoever we endeavour in obedience to reason is
nothing further than to understand; neither does the mind, in so
far as it makes use of reason, judge anything to be useful to it,
save such things as are conducive to understanding.
    Proof.-The effort for self-preservation is nothing else but
the essence of the thing in question (III. vii.), which, in so
far as it exists such as it is, is conceived to have force for
continuing in existence (III. vi.) and doing such things as
necessarily follow from its given nature (see the Def. of
Appetite, III. ix. note).  But the essence of reason is nought
else but our mind, in so far as it clearly and distinctly
understands (see the definition in II. xl. note. ii.); therefore
(II. xl.) whatsoever we endeavour in obedience to reason is
nothing else but to understand.  Again, since this effort of the
mind wherewith the mind endeavours, in so far as it reasons, to
preserve its own being is nothing else but understanding; this
effort at understanding is (IV. xxii. Coroll.) the first and
single basis of virtue, nor shall we endeavour to understand
things for the sake of any ulterior object (IV. xxv.); on the
other hand, the mind, in so far as it reasons, will not be able
to conceive any good for itself, save such things as are
conducive to understanding.