Curiosity is Natural and Necessary

Curiosity is natural and necessary

As long as men have an inclination for a good that surpasses their strength and which they do not possess, they will always have a secret inclination for everything that bears the character of the new and extraordinary; they will incessantly run after things they have not yet considered, in the hope of finding there what they seek, and, their minds being unable to satisfy themselves entirely except by the sight of Him for whom they are made, they will always be in restlessness and agitation until He appears to them in His glory.

This disposition of minds is without doubt very conformable to their state, for it is infinitely better to seek with restlessness the truth and happiness one does not possess, than to remain in a false repose by contenting oneself with the lie and false goods with which one ordinarily feeds oneself. Men must not be insensible to truth and to their happiness; the new and extraordinary must therefore awaken them, and there is a curiosity that must be permitted to them, or rather that must be recommended to them. Thus common and ordinary things not containing the true good, and the ancient opinions of philosophers being very uncertain, it is just that we be curious for new discoveries, and always restless in the enjoyment of ordinary goods.

If a geometer were to come and give us new propositions contrary to those of Euclid, if he pretended to prove that this science is full of errors, as Hobbes wanted to do in the book he composed against the pride of geometers, I admit that one would be wrong to take pleasure in this sort of novelty, because when one has found truth one must remain firm in it; since curiosity is given to us only to lead us to discover it. Nor is it a common defect among geometers to be curious about new opinions of geometry. They would soon become disgusted with a book that contained only propositions contrary to those of Euclid, because being very certain of the truth of these propositions by incontestable demonstrations, all our curiosity ceases with regard to them; an infallible sign that men have an inclination for novelty only because they do not see with evidence the truth of the things they naturally desire to know and because they do not possess the infinite goods they naturally wish to possess.

Three rules for moderating it

It is therefore just that men be excited by novelty and that they love it; but there are nevertheless exceptions to be made, and they must observe certain rules that it is easy to draw from what we have just said: that the inclination for novelty is given to us only for the search for truth and our true good.

There are three of them, of which the first is that men must not love novelty in matters of faith which are not subject to reason;

The second, that novelty is not a reason that should lead us to believe that things are good or true—that is to say, we must not judge that opinions are true because they are new, nor that goods are capable of satisfying us because they are new and extraordinary and because we have not yet possessed them;

The third, that when we are assured from elsewhere that truths are so hidden that it is morally impossible to discover them, and that goods are so small and slight that they cannot satisfy us, we must not allow ourselves to be excited by the novelty that is found there, nor allow ourselves to be seduced by false hopes. But we must explain these rules at greater length and show that for lack of observing them we fall into a very great number of errors.

Explanation of the first of these rules

One quite often finds minds of two very different humors: some always wish to believe blindly, others always wish to see evidently. The first, having almost never used their mind, believe without discernment everything they are told; the others, always wishing to make use of their mind on matters that even infinitely surpass it, indiscriminately despise all sorts of authorities. The first are ordinarily stupid and weak minds, like children and women; the others are proud and libertine minds, like heretics and philosophers.

It is extremely rare to find persons who are exactly in the middle of these two excesses and who never seek evidence in matters of faith by a vain agitation of mind, or who sometimes believe without evidence false opinions concerning matters of nature, by an indiscreet deference and a base submission of mind. If they are persons of piety and very submissive to the authority of the Church, their faith sometimes extends, if I may say so, to purely philosophical opinions; they often regard them with the same respect as the truths of religion. They condemn, by a false zeal, with too great facility, those who are not of their sentiment. They enter into injurious suspicions against persons who make new discoveries. It is enough, in order to pass for a libertine in their mind, to deny that there are substantial forms, that animals feel pain and pleasure, and other opinions of philosophy that they believe true without evident reason, only because they imagine necessary connections between these opinions and the truths of faith.

But if they are too bold persons, their pride leads them to despise the authority of the Church, and it is only with difficulty that they submit to it. They take pleasure in harsh and rash opinions, they affect to pass for strong minds, and with this view they speak of divine things without respect and with a sort of pride. They despise as too credulous those who speak with modesty of certain received sentiments. Finally, they are extremely inclined to doubt everything and entirely opposed to those who have too great a facility to submit to the authority of men.

It is manifest that these two extremes are worth nothing, and that persons who do not want evidence in natural questions are blamable, as well as others who demand evidence in the mysteries of faith. But those who put themselves in danger of being mistaken in questions of philosophy by believing too easily are without doubt more excusable than the others who put themselves in danger of falling into some heresy by rashly doubting. For finally it is less dangerous to fall into an infinity of errors of philosophy, for lack of examining them, than to fall into a single heresy, for lack of submitting with humility to the authority of the Church.

The mind rests when it finds evidence and agitates itself when it does not find it, because evidence is the character of truth. Thus the error of libertines and heretics comes from their doubting that truth is to be found in the decisions of the Church, because they do not see evidence there and they hope that the truths of faith can be known with evidence [3]. Now their love for novelty is disordered, since possessing the truth in the faith of the Church they must no longer seek anything; besides, the truths of faith being infinitely above their mind, they could not discover them, supposing, according to their false thought, that the Church had fallen into error.

But if there are several persons who are mistaken in refusing to submit to the authority of the Church, there are no fewer who are mistaken in submitting to the authority of men. One must submit to the authority of the Church, because it can never be mistaken; but one must never submit blindly to the authority of men, because they can always be mistaken. What the Church teaches us is infinitely above the forces of reason; what men teach us is subject to our reason. So that if it is a crime and an insupportable vanity to seek by one’s mind the truth in matters of faith without regard to the authority of the Church, it is also a lightness and a contemptible baseness of mind to believe blindly in the authority of men on subjects that depend on reason.

However, one can say that most of those whom one calls learned in the world have acquired this reputation only because they know by memory the opinions of Aristotle, of Plato, of Epicurus, and of some other philosophers, that they submit blindly to their sentiments, and that they defend them with obstinacy. To have some degrees and some exterior marks of doctrine in universities, it suffices to know the sentiments of some philosophers. Provided one wishes to swear in verba magistri, with a little memory one soon becomes a doctor. Almost all communities have a doctrine that is proper to them and that it is forbidden for individuals to abandon. What is true among some is often false among others. They sometimes make a glory of sustaining the doctrine of their order against reason and experience, and they believe themselves obliged to give contortions to truth or to their authors to accord them with each other, which produces an infinite number of frivolous distinctions, which are so many detours that infallibly lead to error.

If one discovers some truth, it is still necessary that Aristotle saw it; or if Aristotle is contrary to it, the discovery will be false. Some make this philosopher speak one way, others another; for all those who wish to pass for learned make him speak their language. There is no impertinence that they do not make him say, and there are few new discoveries that are not found enigmatically in some corner of his books. In a word, he contradicts himself almost always, if not in his works, at least in the mouth of those who teach him. For although philosophers protest and even pretend to teach his doctrine, it is difficult to find two who agree on his sentiments, because in effect Aristotle’s books are so obscure and filled with terms so vague and general that one can with some plausibility attribute to him the sentiments of those who are most opposed to him. One can make him say whatever one wants in some of his works, because he says almost nothing there, although he makes much noise; just as children make bells say whatever they please, because bells make much noise and say nothing.

It is true that it appears very reasonable to fix and stop the human mind to particular opinions, in order to prevent it from extravagating. But must it be through lies and error? Or rather, does one think that error can unite minds? Let one examine how rare it is to find persons of wit who are satisfied with the reading of Aristotle, and who are persuaded to have acquired a true science even after having grown old over his books, and one will manifestly recognize that only truth and evidence stop the agitation of the mind, and that disputes, aversions, errors, and even heresies are sustained and strengthened by the bad manner in which one studies. Truth consists in an indivisible, it is not capable of variety, and there is only it that can unite minds; but lies and error can only divide and agitate them.

I do not doubt that there are some persons who believe in good faith that he whom they call the prince of philosophers is not in error, and that it is in his works that true and solid philosophy is found. There are people who imagine that for two thousand years since Aristotle wrote, one could not yet discover that he had fallen into some error; that thus, being infallible in some manner, they can follow him blindly and cite him as infallible. But we do not wish to stop to answer these persons, because they must be in too gross an ignorance and more worthy of being despised than combated. One only asks them that if they know that Aristotle or some of those who followed him ever deduced some truth from the principles of physics that are particular to him, or if perhaps they have done it themselves, let them declare it, explain it, and prove it, and one promises them not to speak of Aristotle again except with praise. One will no longer say that his principles are useless, since they will have finally served to prove a truth; but there is no reason to hope for it. The challenge has been made for a long time, and Mr. Descartes among others in his Metaphysical Meditations, nearly forty years ago, with even the promise to demonstrate the falsity of this pretended truth. And it is very likely that no one will ever hazard to do what the greatest enemies of Mr. Descartes and the most zealous defenders of Aristotle’s philosophy have not yet dared to undertake.

Let it therefore be permitted after this to say that it is blindness, baseness of mind, stupidity, to thus submit to the authority of Aristotle, of Plato, or of some other philosopher; that one loses one’s time in reading them when one has no other design than to retain their opinions, and that one makes those to whom one teaches them in this manner lose theirs. Let it be permitted to say with Saint Augustine that it is to be foolishly curious to send one’s son to college so that he may learn there the sentiments of his master; that philosophers cannot instruct us by their authority, and that if they claim to, they are unjust; that it is a kind of folly and impiety to solemnly swear their defense, and finally that it is unjustly holding truth captive to oppose by interest new opinions of philosophy that may be true, in order to preserve those that one knows well enough to be false or useless [4].