Effeminate and Superficial minds

What we have said so far seems sufficient to explain generally the flaws of imagination among scholars and the errors to which they are most prone. Since these are almost the only people who take the trouble to seek truth, and since everyone else relies upon their judgment, we might well bring this second part to a close here. Nevertheless, it is useful to say a little more about the errors of other people as well, so that we may be warned against them.

Effeminate minds

Everything that flatters the senses affects us deeply, and the more strongly something affects us, the more attention we give to it. Therefore, those who surrender themselves to every kind of intense and agreeable amusement are incapable of penetrating truths that involve significant difficulty. Their mental capacity, which is not infinite, is entirely occupied by their pleasures — or at the very least, it is so divided among them that little remains for serious thought.

Most nobles, courtiers, wealthy people, young men, and those known as “men of wit” are caught up in constant diversions. They study only the art of pleasing through whatever appeals to desire and the senses. Gradually they develop such extreme sensitivity to these things, or such softness of character, that one can often say they have effeminate minds rather than the sharp, subtle intellect they claim to possess. There is a great difference between true mental subtlety and mere softness, even though the two are usually confused.

A truly subtle mind uses reason to detect even the smallest differences between things; it anticipates effects arising from hidden, unusual, and scarcely visible causes; in short, it penetrates deeply into the subjects it considers. But a soft mind has only a false kind of refinement. It is neither quick nor perceptive; it fails to see even the most obvious and tangible effects of causes.

It cannot grasp or understand anything thoroughly, yet it is extraordinarily sensitive to manners and appearances. A single wrong word, a regional accent, or a slight grimace irritates them far more than a whole collection of poor arguments. They cannot recognize a flaw in reasoning, but they instantly notice a faulty rhythm of speech or an awkward gesture.

In short, they understand sensory matters perfectly, because they have used their senses constantly; but they have no true understanding of things that depend on reason, because they have almost never used their own.

Yet these are the very people most admired in the world, and who most easily earn a reputation for being clever. When someone speaks with ease and grace, chooses pure and elegant words, and uses figures of speech that flatter the senses and stir emotions without being noticed — even if what they say is nonsense, and nothing solid or true lies beneath their fine language — public opinion calls them a man of wit, a sharp mind, a fine intellect.

People do not realize that this is merely a soft, effeminate mind, which shines only with false light and never truly illuminates; it persuades not because it appeals to reason, but only because it appeals to our eyes and ears.

We do not deny that everyone feels this weakness to some degree. No one’s mind remains untouched by the impressions of their senses and passions; consequently, everyone is influenced to some extent by outward manner. The difference between people is only a matter of degree. The reason we single out this flaw in certain individuals is that many recognize it as a fault and strive to correct it. But those we have just described treat it as a great advantage. Far from acknowledging that this false refinement is the result of mental softness and the source of countless intellectual weaknesses, they imagine it is a sign of their natural brilliance and genius.

Superficial minds

Closely related to the above group is a large number of people with superficial minds, who never examine anything deeply and perceive differences only in a confused way. Unlike the previous group, their narrowness of mind is not caused by a life of pleasure, but by nature itself.

This limited capacity does not come from the nature of the soul, as one might suppose; it is sometimes caused by a scarcity or slowness of the “animal spirits” that move thought, sometimes by inflexibility in the fibers of the brain, sometimes by an excess of spirits and blood, or by other causes we need not explore here.

There are thus two types of minds: those that easily notice differences between things — these are the capable minds — and those that only imagine or assume similarities — these are the superficial minds. The first type has a brain suited to receiving clear and distinct impressions of the objects they study. Because they pay close attention to these impressions, they see their subjects as if from close up, and nothing escapes them. But superficial minds receive only weak or confused impressions; they see things only fleetingly, from a distance, and indistinctly. As a result, everything seems similar to them — just as faces look alike when viewed from too far away. This happens because the mind naturally assumes similarity and equality wherever it is not forced to recognize difference and inequality, for reasons I will explain in Book III.

Most public speakers, all those known as “great talkers,” and many who express themselves with great ease — even when they have little to say — belong to this category. It is extremely rare for those who think deeply to explain their thoughts clearly and fluently. Usually they hesitate when speaking, because they are careful not to use words that might give others a false idea. Ashamed to speak just for the sake of speaking, as many do who treat every subject lightly, they struggle to find words that accurately express thoughts that are not commonplace.

People of authority

We hold in high esteem pious people, theologians, elders, and generally all those who have justly earned authority over others. Yet it must be said that such people often come to believe they are infallible. Because the world listens to them with respect, they make little effort to use their own judgment to discover abstract truths; and they condemn too readily whatever they choose to condemn, without having examined it with sufficient care.

This is not to say they are wrong to avoid studying many subjects that are not strictly necessary; they are free to ignore or even disregard them. But they should not judge them based on whim or unfounded suspicion. They must consider that the gravity with which they speak, the authority they hold over other people’s minds, and their habit of supporting their words with passages from Holy Scripture will inevitably lead their respectful listeners into error — especially since those listeners lack the ability to examine matters thoroughly and are easily deceived by outward manner and appearance.

When error wears the appearance of truth, it is often more revered than truth itself; and this misplaced respect has very dangerous consequences. As one author writes: “The worst of all things is to deify error; and it is a plague upon the intellect when falsehood is accorded reverence.” Thus, when certain people — whether through misplaced zeal or love for their own ideas — use Scripture to establish false principles in physics or metaphysics, they are often listened to as if they were oracles. People believe them because of the respect due to sacred authority. Yet this has also led some misguided individuals to despise religion altogether. In this strange reversal, Scripture has become the cause of error for some, while truth itself has become the excuse for impiety in others.

Therefore, the same author warns us: we must not seek to explain natural things through the language of faith, nor presume to find in Scripture what the Holy Spirit did not intend to reveal. “A confused mixing of divine and human matters,” he continues, “produces not only fantastic philosophy but also heretical religion. It is therefore most prudent to keep a clear mind and assign only matters of faith to the realm of faith.”

All those who hold authority over others must therefore form their judgments only after deep reflection — especially since their decisions are so widely followed. Theologians in particular must be careful not to bring religion into disrepute through false zeal, or through a desire to win admiration and promote their own opinions. As guidance, let them listen to Saint Thomas, their master. When asked by his superior for his opinion on certain doctrinal points, he replied with words from Saint Augustine:

“It is very dangerous to speak decisively on matters not belonging to faith as if they were articles of faith. Saint Augustine teaches us this in Book V of his Confessions: ‘When I see a Christian who does not know what philosophers say about the heavens, the stars, and the movements of the sun and moon, and who mistakes one thing for another, I leave him to his opinions and doubts. For I do not see how ignorance about the arrangement of bodies or the composition of matter can harm him, as long as he holds no views unworthy of You, O Lord, who created all things. But he does himself harm if he convinces himself that these matters are essential to religion, and if he dares to assert stubbornly what he does not know.’”

Saint Augustine explains this even more clearly in Book I of his Literal Commentary on Genesis: “A Christian must take great care not to speak of such things as if they were found in Holy Scripture. If an unbeliever hears him saying absurd things that bear no resemblance to truth, he will not be able to keep from laughing. The Christian will be humiliated, and the unbeliever will be given a bad impression. Worse still, the unbelievers we are trying to convert will mistakenly believe that our teachers hold such foolish views; and to their own ruin, they will condemn and despise us as ignorant. It is therefore far better not to treat as articles of faith those opinions commonly held by philosophers — opinions that do not contradict our faith, even if we may sometimes cite philosophical authority to support them. Nor should we reject those opinions as contrary to faith, lest we give the wise of this world reason to despise the holy truths of the Christian religion.”

Most people are so careless and thoughtless that they do not distinguish between the word of God and the word of men when they are presented together. As a result, they either fall into error by accepting both equally, or into impiety by rejecting both indiscriminately. The cause of these errors is easily seen: they arise from the association of ideas explained in Chapter V of Part I and Chapter II of this Part. There is no need to go into further detail here.

Those who conduct experiments

It is appropriate to say a few words about chemists and, more generally, all those who devote their time to experiments. These are people who seek truth; and since their opinions are usually accepted without question, their mistakes are all the more dangerous because they are so easily passed on to others.

Studying nature is undoubtedly better than merely studying books. Visible, tangible experiments certainly prove more than human reasoning alone. We cannot criticize those whose work involves the study of nature for trying to become skilled through repeated experiments — provided they also devote themselves to subjects even more necessary to them. Therefore, we do not condemn experimental philosophy or those who practice it; we only point out their faults.

The first fault is that they usually do not follow the light of reason in organizing their experiments, but rely only on chance. This is why, after spending much time and money, they rarely become any wiser or more knowledgeable.

The second is that they focus more on curious, unusual phenomena than on the most common occurrences. Yet it is obvious that the most common events are also the simplest; one must understand these first before turning to more complex phenomena, which depend on a greater number of causes.

The third is that they eagerly pursue experiments that offer profit or practical use, while neglecting those that serve only to enlighten the mind.

The fourth is that they do not record with sufficient precision all the specific conditions: time, place, and the quality of the materials they use. Even the smallest change in these details can sometimes prevent the expected result. It must be noted that the terms used by natural philosophers are often ambiguous. The word “wine,” for example, means something different depending on the soil, the season, the method of production, and the way it is stored. One could even say that no two barrels of wine are exactly alike. Therefore, when an experimenter writes, “Take wine to perform this test,” it remains unclear exactly what is meant. This is why great caution is needed in experimentation; one should not attempt complex procedures until one thoroughly understands the principles behind the simplest and most common observations.

The fifth fault is that they draw too many conclusions from a single experiment. On the contrary, several trials are almost always needed to reach a single valid conclusion — even though one good experiment can suggest many lines of inquiry.

Finally, most natural philosophers and chemists observe only particular effects in nature; they never trace them back to the fundamental principles that make up all bodies. Yet it is certain that we cannot understand specific phenomena clearly and distinctly unless we first grasp the most general truths, and even rise to the level of metaphysics. They also often lack perseverance and constancy; they become discouraged by the effort and expense involved.

There are many other shortcomings among such people, but it is not necessary to list them all.

The root causes of these errors are lack of sustained attention, the properties of the imagination explained in Chapter V of Part I and Chapter II of this Part, and above all the habit of judging differences between bodies and changes in their state solely by the sensations they produce — as explained in Book I.