L’imagination joue un rôle crucial et pourtant équivoque dans la théorie des passions de Descartes ainsi que dans celle de Hobbes. En dépit de sa réduction de l’imagination au corps, Descartes explique l’affectivité de l’âme comme le résultat complexe de l’interdépendance de la pensée et de l’imagination. Hobbes, d’un autre côté, réfute tout dualisme entre passions corporelles et volonté ; toutefois, il décrit les passions de l’esprit comme causées par une imagination « mentale » qui regarde au (...) possible et à l’avenir. Cette contribution étudie les ramifications d’une telle « pensée imaginative » dans les anthropologies morales de Descartes et de Hobbes. (shrink)

I begin this paper with a survey of the textual evidence for a new Cartesian subject, a post-Cartesian Cartesian individual, for whom the life of the body, its passions, and its relationships are central. In the second section, I consider his remarks on hatred, which complicate his view embodied life. Even if Descartes’s study of the passions in his treatise as well as his correspondence calls for a more nuanced understanding of the Cartesian person, we will find in (...) his attention to embodiment a conflicted and wary human being for whom relationships can be nourishing and sweet just as easily as they can be noxious and bitter. (shrink)

This book describes Descartes's The Passions of the Soul as a foundational work of the Enlightenment, a precursor of later notions of the historicity of the human, and the first psychology of modern type: to understand and heal ourselves, we look not outward at the world in immediate relation to it, but inward, at the self, its brain, and its past history. Special attention is given to Descartes’s account of imagination and its problematic impact on passion and volition.

I here address Descartes' account of human nature as a union of mind and body by appealing to The Passions of the Soul. I first show that Descartes takes us to be able to reform the naturally instituted associations between bodily and mental states. I go on to argue that Descartes offers a teleological explanation of body-mind associations (those instituted both by nature and by artifice). This explanation sheds light on the ontological status of the union. I suggest (...) that it affords a way of understanding how mind and body form a true unit without compromising Descartes' dualism. (shrink)

Descartes developed an elaborate theory of animal physiology that he used to explain functionally organized, situationally adapted behavior in both human and nonhuman animals. Although he restricted true mentality to the human soul, I argue that he developed a purely mechanistic (or material) ‘psychology’ of sensory, motor, and low-level cognitive functions. In effect, he sought to mechanize the offices of the Aristotelian sensitive soul. He described the basic mechanisms in the Treatise on man, which he summarized in the (...) Discourse. However, the Passions of the soul contains his most ambitious claims for purely material brain processes. These claims arise in abstract discussions of the functions of the passions and in illustrations of those functions. Accordingly, after providing an intellectual context for Descartes’s theory of the passions, especially by comparison with that of Tho- mas Aquinas, I examine its ‘machine psychology’, including the role of habituation and association. I contend that Descartes put forth what may reasonably be called a ‘psychology’ of the unensouled animal body and, correspondingly, of the human body when the soul does not intervene. He thus conceptually distinguished a mechanistically explicable sensory and motor psychology, common to nonhuman and human animals, from true mentality involving higher cognition and volition and requiring (in his view) an immaterial mind. (shrink)

'Those most capable of being moved by passion are those capable of tasting the most sweetness in this life.'Descartes is most often thought of as introducing a total separation of mind and body. But he also acknowledged the intimate union between them, and in his later writings he concentrated on understanding this aspect of human nature. The Passions of the Soul is his greatest contribution to this debate. It contains a profound discussion of the workings of the emotions (...) and of their place in human life - a subject that increasingly engages the interest of philosophers and intellectual and cultural historians. It also sets out a view of ethics that has been seen as a radical reorientation of moral philosophy.This volume also includes both sides of the correspondence with Princess Elisabeth of Bohemia, one of Descartes's keenest disciples and shrewdest critics, which played a crucial role in the genesis of The Passions, as well as the first part of The Principles of Philosophy, which sets out the key positions of Descartes's philosophical system.ABOUT THE SERIES: For over 100 years Oxford World's Classics has made available the widest range of literature from around the globe. Each affordable volume reflects Oxford's commitment to scholarship, providing the most accurate text plus a wealth of other valuable features, including expert introductions by leading authorities, helpful notes to clarify the text, up-to-date bibliographies for further study, and much more. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Princess and the Philosopher: Letters of Elisabeth of the Palatine to Rene DescartesRichard A. WatsonAndrea Nye. The Princess and the Philosopher: Letters of Elisabeth of the Palatine to Rene Descartes. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield, 1999. Pp. xiii + 187. Cloth, $57.95. Paper, $18.95.Princess Elisabeth was an acute, persistent critic of Descartes's philosophy. Because he liked her and she was a princess, Descartes did not dismiss her (...) criticisms as he did those of Gassendi and Hobbes. How can an immaterial mind interact with a material body? How can God determine all our actions and yet give us free will? Elisabeth was dissatisfied with Descartes's answer that an all-powerful God can do anything even if we cannot understand how.Andrea Nye analyzes the correspondence between Elisabeth and Descartes to support the thesis that Elisabeth developed and defended a worldly philosophy of life in opposition to the unworldly rules Descartes offered for living a tranquil and happy life. Descartes said she should focus on the separation of the mind from the body to avoid disturbing the intellect with sensory matters. Think positively about such nice things as birds and flowers and not of bad things that happen to one. Descartes told Elisabeth that "there are no events so dreadful, nor so absolutely bad in the judgments of people, that a person of spirit cannot look on them with a bias that makes them appear favorable" (48). If we do our best to find out the right course of action and act accordingly, then even if the results are bad, we have no reason for remorse or recrimination, but can be happy that we have done the best we can. Descartes even says that a person who follows his rules can view everything that happens to him, even the worst, as though these events were taking place in a theatre, for in the end they do not impinge upon the ultimate happiness of one's immortal soul.Elisabeth, earnestly. sardonically, and sometimes with annoyance responds that this is perhaps possible for a single man of independent means with few civil and personal relationships, but for someone engaged in family affairs, royal politics, and social interaction with other human beings, Descartes's philosophy of life is both impossible and wrong. One never knows what is best; even if one did know, it is difficult to carry it out; and finally, if the results are bad, then one is after all responsible. One would be inhuman to deny fault, monstrous to deny moral responsibility. Above all, Elisabeth says, one should not view one's own life as theatre. One must be responsible for oneself and others.Nye casts this as a difference between Descartes's abstract and Elisabeth's particularist approaches to life, but also as a contrast between those who can live a disengaged life and those who cannot. Some of the amusement in Nye's perceptive discussions comes from her showing how Descartes's passions often run away with him, and how Elisabeth gently turns his own rules back onto him. [End Page 277]Nye's analyses of the correspondence are excellent, but she makes some mistakes about the lives of Descartes and Elisabeth. Nye explains Descartes's coolness by his having suffered from a "motherless infancy" (129), even speaking of "the mother's milk denied him as a child" and calling him an "orphan" (156), which he was not. His mother died thirteen months after his birth, but he had a wet nurse. Descartes may never have tasted his own mother's milk, but he was never deprived of nursing. Children were often sent to live with wet nurses for as long as four years, although Descartes is traditionally said to have been raised by his grandmother. In any event, such psychoanalyzing is off the mark.Nye also says that Descartes was asked by Queen Christina to write a ballet. She cites the wrong ballet and attributes a verse from the right ballet incorrectly, but beyond that, there is no evidence either that Descartes wrote verses for a ballet or that Christina asked him to.Then Nye speaks of Descartes's daughter Francine... (shrink)

Descartes dedicates his last work to the study of passions. This theme would come to close his contributions to the discussion of substantial union. How do two substances complete and distinct are united? This interaction between body and soul may not be explained in theoretical terms, but when Descartes draws practical conclusions, seeking in passions the key to this relationship. In “The Passions of Soul” Descartes creates a kind of taxonomy of passions, classifying them (...) into six primary passions passions and the others as their derivatives. In presenting them, he discusses their physiological processes, the movements these passions generate in the body, as well as presenting the utilities and remedies for the excesses and deficiencies of passions. Descartes does not consider the passions sinful, or diseases that need to be eradicated, but rather as good, as responsible for the sweetness of life, only needing to be undestood and controlled to ensure an ethical life. (shrink)

The definition of love given by Descartes in the Passions of the Soul has never stopped puzzling commentators. If the first Cartesian textbooks discreetly evoke or even fail to discuss Descartes’s account of love, Spinoza harshly criticizes it, pointing out that it is ‘on all hands admitted to be very obscure’. More recently several scholars have noticed the puzzling character of the articles of the Passions of the Soul on love and hate. In this paper, I (...) would like to propose a reassessment of the definition of love provided by the Passions of the Soul and the Letters to Elisabeth and Chanut. By tracing back Descartes’s scholastic sources, I will demonstrate how Descartes builds up his definition of love by displacing or subverting the meaning of several major elements of the thomistic vulgata on love. Hence, a significant part of the obscurity of the definition given by the Passions of the Soul possibly finds its ultimate rationale in this attempt to recover some traditional questions of the scholastic debate on love, while advancing new answers to them. (shrink)

On the basis of Descartes’s account of the passions of the soul, we argue that current interoception-based theories of emotions cannot account for the hallmark of a passion of the soul, i.e., that its effects are felt as being in the soul itself. We also pay attention to the epistemic functions of the passions and to Descartes’s category of emotions that are caused and occur in the soul alone. Certain passions of the (...) class='Hi'>soul and certain internal emotions are similar to what are today called ‘epistemic feelings’ and ‘epistemic emotions.’ Descartes’s work reflects another challenge for contemporary embodied cognition: how might epistemic affect be embodied? Since the signature of embodiment is increasingly understood as interoceptive, the challenge to interoceptive research is demonstrating the degree to which affect results from interoception. This challenge also implies that the locus of emotional experience is taken into account. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Descartes on Love and/as ErrorByron WillistonBut if this medicine, love, which cures all sorrow With more, not only be no quintessence, But mixed of all stuffs, paining soul, or sense, And of the sun his working vigour borrow, Love’s not so pure, and abstract, as they use To say, which have no mistress but their Muse, But as all else, being elemented too, Love sometimes would contemplate, sometimes (...) do.1One of philosophy’s most enduring questions is inspired by Plato’s Euthyphro: do we love something because it is lovable, or is it lovable because we love it?2 Perhaps nowhere is this problem more intractable than in Descartes’s theory of love. In his view love is the concrete attempt on the part of humans to develop an ethical reciprocity which ideally fulfils the need both to discover and to create value. The strict disjunction of the Platonic question is to this extent somewhat misleading because Descartes is genuinely challenged by the respective demands of both sides of the question. It would therefore be a mistake to fasten on one side of this distinction to the utter exclusion of the other.But the temptation to do precisely this with Descartes is strong indeed. This is a temptation which extends even to ethical matters, in which Descartes seems loathe to subordinate the search for certainty to merely contingent practical demands. In addressing the problem of moral weakness he writes, for [End Page 429] example, that “the strength of the soul is inadequate without knowledge of the truth.”3 The call to live in the light of certain truths—moral or otherwise—is so persistent a theme for him that the burden of proof would seem to be on those who want to claim that this is nevertheless not so in certain areas. The bulk of this paper is thus devoted to showing that, despite some appearances, Descartes is not concerned overmuch with the problem of attaining certainty and avoiding error in love judgments. He wants us to see love as a complex psycho-physical phenomenon which cannot be reduced to the desire to obtain true judgments about the world.To focus the discussion I examine Irving Singer’s philosophy of love as presented in The Nature of Love and especially his hermeneutic distinction between “appraisal” and “bestowal,” a distinction which maps felicitously onto the Platonic disjunction as sketched above. Singer criticizes the Cartesian theory of love as excessively “appraisive,” that is, as relying too heavily on an objective standard as guarantor of the worth of beloved objects. I maintain on the contrary that this interpretation distorts what Descartes’s texts tell us. By arguing that the will, with no necessary input from the appraising intellect, is paramount in love judgments, I show that love for Descartes is largely an imaginative means of “bestowing” value which as such does not require either the guidance or the corroboration of objective criteria. The bestowal theory warrants, rather, the free subjective creation of value. The distinction which Singer uses to criticize Descartes is thus turned to Descartes’s favor.I. Before getting to that argument, however, we need to examine the place which love as a specific passion has within the overall economy of the third notion primitive,4 that is, the union of body and soul as distinct from the treatment of these elements as mutually separate. Passions are for Descartes a species of thought. In a general sense all “perceptions” are passions of the soul. They represent the world to the will which then acts in some way on them (“action” is taken as the other species of thought). Now of these perceptions generally considered, some are caused by the external objects of the senses5 and some by the natural appetites and affections of the body.6 There are, however, those perceptions “whose effects we feel as being in the soul itself....”7 These are strictly speaking the “passions” of the soul; and despite our not always being able to locate their proximate cause,8 they may be stimulated by the [End Page 430] “fortuitous movement of the spirits,”9 by intellectual judgments, or by external... (shrink)

While Descartes’s Passions of the Soul has been taken to hold a place in the history to human physiology, until recently philosophers have neglected the work. In this research summary, I set Descartes’s last published work in context and then sketch out its philosophical significance. From it, we gain further insight into Descartes’s solution to the Mind--Body Problem -- that is, to the problem of the ontological status of the mind--body union in a human being, to the nature (...) of body--mind causation, and to the way body-caused thoughts represent the world. In addition, the work contains Descartes’s developed ethics, in his account of virtue and of the passion of générosité in particular. Through his taxonomy of the passions and the account of their regulation, we also learn more about his moral psychology. (shrink)

Descartes claims that the passions of the soul are “all in their nature good” even though they exaggerate the value of their objects, have the potential to deceive us, and often mislead us. What, then, can he mean by this? In this paper, I argue that these effects of the passions are only problematic when we incorrectly take their goodness to consist in their informing us of harms and benefits to the mind-body composite. Instead, the passions (...) are good in their motivational function, which they carry out by representing objects and situations as having various properties and thereby appearing to be “reasons of goodness.” Further, I argue that the main way in which the passions are problematic is merely an occasional physiological byproduct of a well- functioning system. I show, therefore, that the passions’ motivational function, representationality, and accompanying physiology are all significant and interrelated aspects of their goodness. (shrink)

In this paper, I address two widespread misconceptions about Descartes’s theory of love. Descartes defines love as a passion that ‘incites [the soul] to join in volition to the objects that appear to be suitable to it’. Several commentators assume joining in volition is an act of judgment, since forming judgments is the primary function of the will in the Meditations. However, I argue joining in volition is an act of imagining a whole one forms with an object of (...) love. I draw on Descartes’s account of volition in The Passions of the Soul to show forming images in one’s mind qualifies as a volition, on his view. Second, commentators often assume joining in volition is an essential part of love. However, I argue joining in volition is not an essential part of love because love is not identical to joining in volition, and love does not necessitate the soul to join in volition. (shrink)

L’admiration comme principe phénoménologique de la subjectivité humaine Résumé: Le texte est une tentative d'analyse phénoménologique (principalement inspiré de Ricœur) du thème de l'admiration, que Descartes dans les Passions de l’âme décrit comme passion première et principale. Envisagé comme principe de la subjectivité, cette passion expliquerait l'accès non théorique au monde et à soi-même, et permet de comprendre la constitution du sujet passionnel. En analysant ce sujet, appelé par Descartes l'union de l'âme et du corps, les catégories traditionnelles d'attention, (...) d'imagination et enfin de volonté et de temporalité se trouvent profondément reformulées. Dans le mode admiratif spécifique d’un tel sujet, qui se caractérise par interaction dynamique de l'âme et du corps, on peut parler des étapes successives de la vie passionnée, au sein de laquelle émergent les autres passions “principales” (l'amour, la haine, le désir, la joie et la tristesse), pour trouver enfin son accomplissement dans une expérience éthique de la générosité. Mots-clés: Passion; Admiration; Union de l’âme et du corps; Descartes; Ricoeur. A admiração como princípio fenomenológico da subjetividade Resumo: O texto é uma tentativa de análise fenomenológica (principalmente inspirada por Ricoeur) do tema da admiração, que Descartes n’As paixões da alma descreve como paixão primeira e principal. Considerado como princípio da subjetividade, essa paixão explicaria o acesso não teórico ao mundo e a si mesmo, e permite compreender a constituição do sujeito passional. Analisando esse sujeito, chamado por Descartes a união da alma e do corpo, as categorias tradicionais de atenção, imaginação e, enfim, de vontade e temporalidade se encontram profundamente reformuladas. No modo admirativo específico de um tal sujeito, que se caracteriza pela interação dinâmica da alma e do corpo, podemos falar das etapas sucessivas da vida apaixonada, ao seio da qual emergem as outras paixões « principais » (o amor, o ódio, o desejo, a alegriae a tristeza), para encontrar, enfim, sua realização numa experiência ética da generosidadade. Palavras-chave : Paixão; Admiração; União da alma e do corpo; Descartes; Ricoeur. Admiration as a phenomenological principle of human subjectivity Abstract: The text is a phenomenological analysis (mainly inspired by Ricœur) of the theme of admiration, which Descartes in the Passions of the Soul describes as a first and main passion. Considered as a principle of subjectivity, this passion would explain the non-theoretical access to the world and to oneself, and allows us to understand the constitution of such passionate subject. Analyzing this subject, called by Descartes the union of the soul and the body, the traditional categories of attention, imagination and finally, those of will and temporality are deeply reformulated. In the specific admiring mode of the subject, which is characterized by dynamic interaction of the soul and body, we can speak of the successive stages of passionate life, in which emerge the other “principal passions" (love, hatred, desire, joy and sadness), to finally find its culmination in an ethical experience of generosity. Key words: Passion; Admiration; Union of the soul and body; Descartes; Ricoeur. (shrink)

Philosophy begins in wonder, according to Plato and Aristotle. However, they did not expand a great deal on what precisely wonder is. Does this fact alone not raise curiosity in us as to why this passion is important? What is its role in our thinking except to end as soon as one begins conceptually delimiting its nature? The thinkers Thomas Hobbes and René Descartes both expanded upon earlier brief articulations of wonder in natural, supernatural and practical ways. By means of (...) an historical and philosophical examination of these two early modern thinkers, this article hopes to begin to answer the question: ‘What is wonder?’. (shrink)

In recent literature commentators have challenged the standard interpretation that the Cartesian Self is a res cogitans. Various modifications have been proposed: the will should be regarded as an essential feature of thought as well (not just the intellect), and even the body – in some sense – belongs to the Cartesian Self. While these modifications are important, commentators have neglected Descartes’ wholly different conception of the Self in the Passions of the Soul. In his definition of generosity, (...) Descartes claims that the Cartesian Self is a res volans: the only thing that truly belongs to the generous person is her free will. I aim to unpack what Descartes means in the “truly belongs” locution (TBL), ultimately arguing for what I call the weak essentialist reading. Descartes’ grounds for claiming that free will truly belongs to the Cartesian Self is that free will constitutes the activity – not passivity – of the mind. And that is the most important property in the essence of a mental substance. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Passion and Action: The Emotions in Seventeenth-Century Philosophy by Susan JamesRichard A. WatsonSusan James. Passion and Action: The Emotions in Seventeenth-Century Philosophy. New York: Oxford University Press, 1997. Pp. vii + 318. Cloth, $35.00.Susan James shows how during the seventeenth century philosophers moved from the three souls of Aristotle and the tripartite soul of Thomas Aquinas in which passions and reasons compete for the attention of (...) the will, to a Cartesian view of man as a single soul in union with the body who wills under the influence of both passions and reasons, to a Hobbesian view that the soul is the body and that the bodily motions we call reasons and passions are desires; acts of will are merely the deciding desires in deterministic causal sequences of the material motions of the body that constitute desires. This sets up the contemporary view that, motions are caused by desires and beliefs, leaving behind the difficulties of integrating with one another Aristotelian souls, Thomistic faculties, and Cartesian mind and body. James conceives of this evolution as one of unification of mental and bodily powers, and of integration of the active and passive powers of the mind. This concourse also represents a development from theories meant to explain to theories calculated for control and finally to theories facilitating therapy. Aristotle and Thomas adapted their ontologies to perceived differences in powers and faculties, while Descartes and Hobbes worked toward an ideal of unity of science and nature. The Christian Descartes brought together all the substances and powers of nature under a single extended matter divided into parts by the single force of motion, but he excepted the human soul with its power of will to alter the course of nature. The atheist Hobbes simply dispensed with supernatural [End Page 168] mental substance and occult power of will in order to integrate the whole of nature (including sensing and reasoning) under a cause and effect sequence of moving material bodies in which the last desire in a sequence of human bodily motions is designated as an act of will.James intends her book “as a contribution to the reinstatement of the emotions within philosophy, to the… opinion that we need to take account of our emotional life if we are to understand… moral motivation and growth, the springs of action (rational and otherwise), and the nature of reasoning” (22). She agrees that the sharp division between ideas and passions or emotions is properly abolished to be replaced by the view that all ideas have an emotional component, and all passions an ideational component. This fits with the parallel development of the notion that all sensible perceptions are propositional, and the somewhat less widespread notion that all concepts have a sensible component.But did this development result in a view of passions and ideas, learning and knowing, thinking and action, that is more true to nature than Aristotelian ontology? It is very hard to answer this question, and despite her sympathies with the notion that all human thought is both conceptual and emotional, James does not try. The reason we don’t know lies under the surface of the movement from Aristotle to Hobbes (i.e., to Daniel Dennett) like a monster in the deep. The monster is the monotheistic God, the perfection and unity of which underlies the Western drive to a unitary view of nature including man. The possibility that this God could be a deceiver, and so all our sensations and ideas might not represent the real world, set up Cartesianism and modern hypothetico-deductive science. But lurking throughout James’ book is a more palpable dreadnought, a demoness, the woman Eve. The female is responsible for the Fall of Man, and thus the fear and suspicion of women that suffuses patriarchic Christianity, and is expressed openly by such philosophers as Malebranche. Bodily passions and emotions (particularly the concupiscent ones) are nasty, evil, irrational, overpowering; to wit, they are feminine. They are not to be trusted, and must be subdued. So while still driven by ideals of monotheism, Descartes and Hobbes do move beyond the dogmatic Christian association of the emotions with female treachery. Even so... (shrink)

As suggested by the title, Descartes’ Passions of the Soul deals primarily with states of the soul that he calls ‘passions.’ This designation includes all mental states that are actively caused by the body and passively received by the soul. However, as Descartes points out to the reader, there is a more specialized or proper usage of ‘passion’ that picks out a subclass of these and which aligns more-or-less with what we might now call ‘emotions.’ (...) In this paper, I will address how Descartes classifies these ‘proper passions,’ paying special attention to how he distinguishes them from the other species of the passions in general. One of my primary aims will be to highlight an under-appreciated feature of the proper passions; namely, that they are distinct from other perceptions in their systematic divergence in terms of their distal or ‘first’ cause, their intentional object, and how they are ‘referred.’ After arguing for this distinctive feature of the proper passions, I show how it enables Descartes to provide a nuanced and multi-faceted account of our emotional experiences that incorporates external sensory perceptions, internal or bodily perceptions, and various cognitive assessments. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Melon and the Dictionary:Reflections on Descartes's DreamsAlan Gabbey and Robert E. HallThe interpretation of dreams is rarely answerable to either evidential or settled theoretical control. When the phantasms of the dreaming mind seem unaccountable, as they often do, they seem to belong to a mental world beyond the reach of historical, philosophical, or scientific analysis, a world for which the rules of methodological engagement seem inappropriate, rather than (...) merely impossible to observe. So in advance we ask the reader's indulgence if we appear somewhat to ignore the historian's normal duty to transmute favored speculations into well-argued conclusions based on solid evidence. We do have evidence to present, however, and indeed one or two conclusions that seem to us compelling. But if skeptics question their value, at least they will do so without envy, since they will not want to chase after our speculations on the Dreams—unless with the intention of chasing them and us out of the Cartesian arena altogether.Most of that arena is set aside for exegetical tussles with the respectable philosophizing of the Meditations, the Discourse on Method, and The Principles of Philosophy or The Passions of the Soul. But for some of the liveliest Cartesian games, you must move to that part of the arena where biographers, psychologists, psychoanalysts, and historians have fun with the "petit registre en parchemin," as the Stockholm Inventory describes it.1 This notebook contained [End Page 651] the twelve-page Olympica, in which Descartes recounted the three Dreams, announced his discovery of the foundations of "a wonderful science," and in the margin of the manuscript noted a year later his emerging understanding of "the foundation of a wonderful discovery." Later we'll rerun a few of the Olympian performances of previous interpreters, as preliminaries to a couple of our own interpretative games.First let us recall what happened on Saint Martin's Eve, the night of 10 November 1619, in Descartes's twenty-fourth year.2 In the days preceding that night Descartes's concern with the search for truth gave him much mental torment which the society of his friends could not dissipate. This tired him so much that his brain became inflamed: "he fell into a kind of enthusiasm, which left him in such a state that his depressed spirit was ready to receive dreams and visions." Retiring to bed "full of enthusiasm" from "having found that day the foundations of a wonderful science," Descartes (Baillet tells us) had three dreams "which he imagined could have come only from on high." In Dream I, while he was walking through the streets, his imagination was haunted by terrifying phantoms (fantômes). A severe disabling weakness in his right side forced him to bend over to his left so that he could continue toward his destination. Ashamed of walking in that way, he tried to straighten up, but a strong whirlwind spun him round three or four times on his left foot. Still more terrifying was the thought that he was falling at every step because of the difficulty in dragging himself through the streets.Then seeing a college with open gates, he entered, seeking relief from his afflictions, and intending to pray in the college chapel. But he had passed someone he knew without hailing him. He tried to return to greet him and was hurled back by the wind blowing against the chapel. At the same time he saw in the middle of the college courtyard another person who greeted him civilly by name, and told him that if he cared to look for Monsieur N., "he had something to give him." "M. Descartes imagined that it was a melon that someone had brought from some foreign country." But even more surprising was the fact that those who gathered round him to talk were standing straight and firm on their feet, whereas he was still bent over and staggering about, even though the wind which had threatened several times to blow him over had now greatly abated. At this point he awoke to feel a pain that made him fear that all this was the [End Page 652] work of... (shrink)

On Descartes’ Passive Thought is the culmination of a life-long reflection on the philosophy of Descartes by one of the most important living French philosophers. In it, Jean-Luc Marion examines anew some of the questions left unresolved in his previous books about Descartes, with a particular focus on Descartes’s theory of morals and the passions. Descartes has long been associated with mind-body dualism, but Marion argues here that this is a historical misattribution, popularized by Malebranche and popular ever since (...) both within the academy and with the general public. Actually, Marion shows, Descartes held a holistic conception of body and mind. He called it the meum corpus, a passive mode of thinking, which implies far more than just pure mind—rather, it signifies a mind directly connected to the body: the human being that I am. Understood in this new light, the Descartes Marion uncovers through close readings of works such as Passions of the Soul resists prominent criticisms leveled at him by twentieth-century figures like Husserl and Heidegger, and even anticipates the non-dualistic, phenomenological concepts of human being discussed today. This is a momentous book that no serious historian of philosophy will be able to ignore. (shrink)

Descartes argued that the passions of the soul were immediately felt in the body, as the animal spirits, affected by the movement of the pineal gland, spread through the body. In Leibniz the effect of emotions in the body is a different question as he did not allow the direct interaction between the mind and the body, although maintaining a psychophysical parallelism between them. -/- In general, he avoids discussing emotions in bodily terms, saying that general inclinations, (...) class='Hi'>passions, pleasures and pains belong only to the mind or to the soul (NE II, xxi, §72). He is also keen to point out that our passions derive mostly from our bodies. However, like Spinoza (Ethics III, prop. XI, Scholium) he thought that some emotions such as joy can produce pleasures which can be described also in bodily terms. For example, in a short memoir Felicity he says that music can be a pleasure for the ears and symmetry can be a pleasure for the eyes. These more intellectual emotions are actions in the sense that they represent perfection emanating from their source, the absolutely perfect being, that is, God. The feeling of perfection may produce a state of well-being which concerns both the soul and the body. -/- In my paper I will trace instances of Leibniz’s remarks on how these kind of emotions affect the body. I will also discuss the different ways the body gives rise to passions in the soul. My primary source is Nouveaux essais, book II, chapter xx and xxi, but I will also discuss various other writings by Leibniz. (shrink)

Philosophers have devoted a great deal of time and energy to understanding and assessing the metaphysical and epistemological branches of Descartes' and Spinoza's philosophical systems, and deservedly so---they are arguably the most brilliant and innovative metaphysicians and epistemologists of the seventeenth century. The primary aim of this dissertation is to contribute to showing that their brilliance and innovation is also manifested in the ethical branch of their systems. ;Descartes is not known as a moral philosopher, but this reflects the interests (...) of his commentators more than it reflects Descartes' own interests. In his correspondence and in The Passions of the Soul, there is a fully developed theory of virtue. His theory of virtue, I believe, cannot be clearly understood outside the context of his theory of freedom of the will. So, in Chapter One, I present and defend an account of his theory of the will's freedom, and then, in Chapter Two, I examine his theory of virtue within the interpretive framework I develop in Chapter One. An important aim of Chapter Two is to show how his theory of virtue, an ethical doctrine, is connected with his theory of free will, a doctrine belonging to metaphysics. ;Spinoza, unlike Descartes, is known for his work in moral philosophy. But though his ethical views have not suffered the neglect that his predecessor's has, his ethical theory has not been accurately understood. Contrary to the orthodox Hobbesean interpretation, in Chapters Three and Four I construct and defend a rationalist interpretation of Spinoza's ethical theory. Like Plato and Kant and unlike Hobbes and Hume, I argue that, for Spinoza, reason is practical in two important senses: it is a source of motivation and it is a source of ethical prescriptions. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy and Rhetoric 34.4 (2001) 308-321 [Access article in PDF] Early Modern Emotion and the Economy of Scarcity 1 - [PDF] Daniel M. Gross Where do we get the idea that emotion is kind of excess, something housed in our nature aching for expression? In part, I argue, from The Passions of the Soul (1649), wherein Descartes proposed the reductive psychophysiology of emotion that informs both romantic (...) expressivism and latter-day psychology. Indeed, one goal of this article is simply to recall that we do not just naturally express emotions generated in our amygdala or wherever, but rather that we are first constituted as expressive agents by what the philosophers of the Scottish Enlightenment called "social passions." Contrary, however, to these largely optimistic philosophers, such as Hutcheson and Smith, who anchored social passions in a moral sense equally shared by all, I argue that the constitutive power of emotion derives from their unequal distribution. In what follows I work primarily with Aristotle's Rhetoric and Thomas Hobbes to outline a "political economy" wherein passions are (1) constituted as differences in power and (2) conditioned not by their excess but by their scarcity. Though we may reject the political conclusions reached by Aristotle and Hobbes, their analysis of emotion allows us to address important political questions neutralized in the Cartesian paradigm. 1. Descartes If you are tickled to learn that Aztec culture located passions in the liver, here is something at least as quaint from Descartes: "The ultimate and most proximate cause of the passions of the soul is none other than the agitation with which the spirits move the little gland which is in the middle of the [End Page 308] brain," that is, the pineal gland. Or so Descartes proposes in his 1649 treatise on the passions composed for Princess Elizabeth of Bohemia. Now compare this to Aristotle's Rhetoric, where for instance anger is defined as "desire, accompanied by distress, for conspicuous retaliation because of a conspicuous slight that was directed, without justification, against oneself or those near to one" (1378a 31-33). For Aristotle anger may indeed be accompanied by physical distress, as in the boiling of blood expressed in crimson cheeks, but its proximate cause is anything but that little gland in the middle of the head. Anger is a deeply social passion provoked by perceived slightsunjustified, and it presupposes a public stage where social status is always subject to performative infelicities.Indeed, we can learn a good deal about the rhetoric of human nature in early-modern Europe simply by asking what passions were. When we do, we find not only that their descriptions disagree, but also that the things described as passions seem incommensurable. Are passions tangible "things" residing in the soul, or are they dispositions of the heart or beliefs of the mind? Is passion a matter of personal expression, or is it something essentially social that a person performs? Do they come from our interior, or from the things we perceive? Can they be measured and manipulated--their causes controlled--or do passions elude control by their very nature? Are they divine, diabolical, or human, and can we distinguish them according to the status of their origin? Are they the enabling condition of virtue or its enemy? Are they necessary or disposable? What is their number and what do they do? Exasperated by endless wrangling over such questions, Descartes complains: There is nothing in which the defective nature of the sciences which we have received from the ancients appears more clearly than in what they have written on the passions; for although this is a matter which has at all times been the object of much investigation, and though it would not appear to be one of the most difficult, inasmuch as since everyone has experience of the passions within himself, there is no necessity to borrow one's observations from elsewhere in order to discover their nature. (331) 2With this preliminary remark Descartes renders human nature in its quintessential modern form: it is something housed in a body subject to the self-evidence... (shrink)

_TABLE OF CONTENTS:_ Translator's Introduction Introduction by Genevieve Rodis-Lewis _The Passions of the Sou_l: Preface PART I: About the Passions in General, and Incidentally about the Entire Nature of Man PART II: About the Number and Order of the Passions, and the Explanation of the Six Primitives PART III: About the Particular Passions Lexicon: Index to Lexicon Bibliography Index Index Locorum.

Does self-knowledge help? A rationalist, presumably, thinks that it does: both that self-knowledge is possible and that, if gained through appropriate channels, it is desirable. Descartes notoriously claimed that, with appropriate methods of enquiry, each of his readers could become an expert on herself or himself. In this paper I reject the widespread interpretation of Descartes which makes his dualist view of the body as negative or as pathological as that expressed by Socrates in Plato's *Phaedo*. I argue not just (...) that the old moral cosmobiological disgust at the body is absent in Descartes, but that, positively, Descartes *requires* us to contract full intimacy with our own body and our own peculiar past. He does wish for objective knowledge in these difficult domains, but this does not render his neurological ethics a universal prescription, for such objective knowledge is nevertheless knowledge of local phenomena, of the peculiarities of idiosyncratic associations. Civilsing the body, in seeking dominion over it, is a *process*; and, I will argue, Descartes was too firmly convinced that the body constantly changes its nature to have thought consistently that the process could come to an end. My case rests first on an analysis, in the next three sections, of capacities which, according to Descartes, we share with other animals. Sections 2 and 3 argue for strongly dynamic interpretations of Descartes' views on body and on corporeal memory respectively. Then Section 4 backtracks to support more firmly the surprisingly complex form of 'automatic' responses which I attribute to Descartes' beast- and body-machines. Finally, in section 5, I reintroduce the soul and the capacities for reflection which it allows in the human compound, showing how closely Descartes thinks we must work with the body, its habits and its history, in deliberately moulding our associative responses with active mind. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Descartes’s Concept of MindJoanna ForstromLilli Alanen. Descartes’s Concept of Mind. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2003. pp. xv + 355. Cloth, $65.00.Descartes's Concept of Mind takes as its task that of redressing "the distortions of Descartes's concept of human mind and thinking caused by the Cartesian myth that Ryle justly sought to correct, but that his gripping caricature has helped keep alive" (x). Offering a close reading of (...) the text in its philosophical and historical context and examining its place in contemporary literature, Alanen develops Descartes's philosophy of mind, broadly construed, with a focus on the embodiment of the human mind.Alanen sees Descartes's philosophy of mind as "the result of an ongoing struggle to adjust some basic views about human nature, thought and agency rooted in experience and tradition to the new picture of the universe" (8). Taking this perspective reveals a greater continuity in his fundamental views. Changes, she suggests, are a matter of emphasis, subject matter, and perspective. She grants Descartes's dualism and his view of the mind-body union and chooses to focus instead on the mind as embodied.In developing the analysis Alanen takes a somewhat chronological approach in her seven chapters. Chapter one is a prehistory of Descartes's philosophy of mind focusing on his unpublished, early writings. She looks at his early intellectual ambitions and interests beginning with mathematics and a science of nature and then expanding into metaphysics. The distinctive views of his later work are formed, according to Alanen, during this time. In chapter two, three different perspectives about the nature of man are distinguished: man as an object of mechanistic physics, man as mind or intellect and so an epistemic subject, and man as a real union between the mind and body. She focuses on the third, as it is the real union that has been overlooked or misconstrued by most. How this union is to [End Page 115] be conceived, and the epistemological implications of it are explored. By highlighting the consequences of Descartes's distinction between the mind and the body in terms of knowledge, Alanen directly confronts Ryle and his legacy. In short, because we cannot expect to have knowledge of the mind—body union, we cannot conceive it—there is no category mistake to be made. She elaborates much more in the chapter.Chapters three, four and five, are centered on the writings from 1637-44. Here Alanen focuses on Descartes's notion of thinking and modes of thoughts. The way that thinking is defined, its intentional and representative nature, and the status of sensations as mental phenomena are carefully explored in light of discussions of these issues in contemporary literature and in the literature of Descartes's time. The issues are complex, but the writing is clear and easy to follow. Her discussions of representation, sense perception, and material falsity are particularly good in these chapters.Chapters six and seven reflect the issues that Princess Elisabeth raised: emotions, will, and related moral issues. These two chapters are perhaps the most significant in the book. Chapter six centers on The Passions. The passions depend on the union of the mind and body and do not consist in thought alone. Alanen sees them as a subclass of thoughts. She examines carefully the intentionality of emotions, the distinction between action and passions, and the functions attributed to the body and the soul. She raises a number of questions, some of which chapter seven begins to answer, and others which are left to challenge the reader. Chapter seven is about free will and virtue. Alanen places Descartes's conception of the will and agency in the context of the debate between the voluntarists and the intellectualists. She considers the ancient and medieval antecedents, with a focus on the Stoics as she develops her analysis. She also includes a good discussion of Descartes's contemporaries, and their reactions to his work. Her inclusion of secondary literature is well done. One is left with a better understanding of the complexities of Descartes's understanding of human nature and free will.Overall, Alanen's book is an excellent contribution to... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Rhetoric, Grief, and the Imagination in Early Modern EnglandStephen PenderIn 1633, the Northampton physician James Hart warned that excessive grief "will to some procure irrecoverable Consumptions," dry the brain and bone marrow, hinder digestion, interrupt rest, and "by consequent prove a cause of many dangerous diseases." The risk was grave: "Galen himself maketh answer that one may dye of these passions, and to this doe all Physicians assent; (...) and experience maketh it so appeare" (1633, 393–95).1 In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, physicians routinely treated grief and its effects, since it was commonly held that the passions were realized in matter.2 They applied an ensemble of remedies—bleeding, emetics, laxatives—predicated on sympathetic connection between bodies and souls, for disturbance "in the emotional climate of the body alters its inner temperature and causes in turn dangerous mutations in the balance and composition of the humours" (MacDonald 1981, 182).3 The spirits, too, were enlisted: for "the spirit being either withdrawne from the outwarde parts by vehement passio[n] of griefe," the "outward partes not only faile in their sense and motion, but even nourishment & growth thereby are hindered" (Bright 1586, 60; see also 47, 51–52). But grief also "besieged" the mind, weakened reason, hampered discourse, and impugned the will (Reynolds 1640, 229–30). By affecting mental faculties, passions subvented affliction, and thus physicians offered various prophylactics against fulminant emotion in the sick, most [End Page 54] of which focused on the imagination as potentially harmful faculty that prolonged or intensified suffering. A sufferer, Hart writes, "by reason of his sicknesse, hath sorrow enough, especially, if the party be of a feeble, fearfull and pusillanimous spirit, the phansie still framing unto it selfe new fears of some bad and sinistrous event." As wards against excessive passion, Hart recommends vigilance and circumspection, accommodation and distraction. First, physicians must guard against visitors who "prove the causes of infinite evills to the sicke" by occasioning overweening feeling. Drawing on Paul's distinction between worldly and "godly" sorrow in his second letter to the Corinthians, Hart recognizes that sufferers have just cause for fear, and physicians should not interrupt or retard "true sorrow for sinne," which offers comfort to a "drouping and sorrowfull soule." But the effects of any lenitive passion are endangered by "indiscreetly" compounding fear and grief "at an unseasonable time" (1633, 400). To avoid odium, a counselor's efforts must conform to "time, place, and person" (Wilson 1994, 120). Second, a physician should "accommodate himselfe to the severall dispositions of his patients, and to many particular circumstances concerning them," adjusting therapies and practices to individual sufferers. Finally, if not too fragile, the sick should be distracted with mirth (1633, 400).Those expressing "true sorrow for sinne" should read. Hart recommends one of the "many volumes written by our learned Divines, concerning this subject," Robert Bolton's 1631 Instructions for a Right Comforting Afflicted Consciences with Speciall Antidotes Against Some Grievous Temptations. Bolton, who was rector of Broughton, Northamptonshire, and a popular conformist preacher, insists that divines sometimes held even "godly sorrow" unseasonable, "when it unfitteth the body or minde to good duties" (1641, 587). Excessive grief is particularly foul: of "all other passions of the Soule," he writes, "sadnesse, and grief grates most upon the vitall spirits; dries up soonest the freshest marrow in the bones; and most sensibly suckes out the purest, and refinedst bloud in the heart" (1641, 21). Bolton's remedies are to avoid idleness and solitude, for both render the soul susceptible to disquiet (1641, 582), and to read: the sorrowful and the melancholy find succor in scripture. Although both forms of suffering may be treated medically, one remedy for an afflicted conscience is "Gods blessed Booke" (1641, 211–15). One early seventeenth-century Sussex physician turned to Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy (1621) for assistance.4Like most physicians in the period, both Hart and Bolton differentiate grief occasioned by humoral imbalance from sorrow born of a repentant conscience, and both confirm that the "phantasie" is central to physical and [End Page 55] moral therapy.5 For Bolton, grief, melancholy, and "terror of conscience" dwell chiefly in the imagination (1641, 212... (shrink)

In this thesis I argue that foundational to attaining Cartesian generosity, both as a passion and as a virtue are the clear and distinct perceptions of mind, God, and body. I challenge Lisa Shapiro’s account of generosity, and her suggestion that generosity regulates the passions expressed in the Meditations. Unlike Shapiro I attend closely to the distinction between the passion of generosity and the virtue of generosity, and how to acquire these different states of the soul. I propose (...) that the passion of generosity cannot be aroused in the soul until after the meditations have been completed and the full inventory of clear and distinct perceptions attained. I interpret the meditations as orienting the meditator towards attaining virtue; by putting her in a position to attend frequently to the nature of free will after the six meditations have been completed. I interpret this frequent attendance to the will as a “Seventh Meditation,” which arouses the passion of generosity. After the passion has been attained, the virtue of generosity can then be acquired through self-cultivation, which instills generosity as a habit of the soul. The virtue of generosity is what allows one to gain mastery of the passions, and I provide an account of how this can be done through a process of reconditioning the passions. (shrink)

My project in this paper is to provide a plausible idea of Christ’s suffering and death in terms of two theories of the human person. One is dualism. Dualism is the view that a human person is composed of two substances, that is, a soul and a body, and he (strictly speaking) is identical with the soul. On the other hand, physicalism is the view that a human person is numerically identical with his body. I will argue that (...) dualism is not successful in explaining Christ’s passion for some reasons. Rather, physicalism, as I shall argue, provides a better explanation of how Christ’s physical suffering and death are real just like everyone else’s, so it is philosophically and theologically more plausible than dualism. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Hume Contra Spinoza? Wim Klever In Book 1 ofthe TreatiseofHumanNature1 Spinoza enjoys thehonour ofbeing the only figure from the history of philosophy and science to be explicitly and extensively discussed by Hume. This honour is, however, a dubious one as the treatment he gets is not so friendly. The passage (T 232-51) is full of insults and denunciations: Spinoza is referred to as "that famous atheist" (T 241), and (...) characterized as "universally infamous" (T 240). His doctrine contains "a true atheism" (T 240). His theory about the thinking substance is an "hideous hypothesis" (T 241); Hume does not want to enter "farther into these gloomy and obscure regions" (T 241), although he spends ten pages on the subject. Richard Popkin2 suggests on account ofthis not too well studied section: "In introducing Spinoza into the discussion of the immateriality ofthe soul, Hume follows what was common practice in his day." This statement, if true, raises the question whether Hume was sincere in writing these 'satanicverses'. Does he, after all, hide the backside of his tongue? This would bring him pretty well in line with two of his English forerunners; with Hobbes about whom Aubrey recorded: "He toldme he [Spinoza]had outthrown him [Hobbes] a bar's length, for he [Hobbes] durst not write so boldly," and with Locke, who possessedinhis privatelibraryall Spinoza's worksbutnonetheless, for one reason or another, refused to assess the theories of "those decried names," saying "I am not so well read in Hobbes or Spinoza as to be able to say what were their opinions in this matter" (namely the pre-existence ofthe soul).4 One commentator, named Gilbert Boss, wrote a two volume dissertation in order to argue for the fundamental opposition between the philosophical systems of both thinkers. In this paper I wish to propose another view and to defend their overall agreement. I will not do so with regard to their thought on religion (as this is already done byPopkin), but I shall more specificallyfocuson the theoretical (mainly epistemological) part oftheir work. Coming to Hume's text the reader of Spinoza's work who is, moreover, convinced by his geometrical demonstration of the propositions, does feel himself quite well at home chez Hume. Hume's is not another world for him. Apart from the question who is the real first modern thinker, Descartes, Hobbes, Spinoza or Hume, there is much common in their treatises on man and world, not only methodologically. Hume's rejection of "the antient philosophy," in Volume XVI Number 2 89 WIM KLEVER which he criticizes the "fictions... concerning substances, and substantial forms, and accidents, and occult qualities" (T 219), "sympathies, antipathies, and horrors ofa vacuum" (T 224) could have been written by the three other candidates as well. In fact every one of thoseitems maybe tracedoutin Spinoza's work; compare, for instance, JSp 136 ("doctrinam illam puerilem et nugatoriam de formis substantialibus, qualitatibus etc.") or 2 PPC 8s ("Quare omnia ilia figmenta de sympathie et antipathie ut falsa sunt reicienda... Nunquam dicendum erit, quod corpus aliquod movetur, ne detur vacuum; sed tantum ex alterius impulsu"). But let us go to the main theme in Book 1 ofthe Treatise, already present in Part 1, Section 1, "Ofthe Origin ofour Ideas." All our ideas result from impressions, themselves also being ideas or perceptions, though withmoreforce andliveliness. The original perceptions aresaid to be "the causes of our ideas" (T 5). We find the impressions in our mind and their effects, our ideas. Hume does not explain the cognitive status ofthe impressions by reducing them to non-cognitive processes. The "universe of the imagination" (T 68) is a world apart, irreducible to matter; we can't step out ofit, "since nothing is ever present to the mind but perceptions, and since all ideas are deriv'd from something antecedently present to the mind" (T 67). Ideas, whatever their character (about external existences or not), can only be explained by other ideas. Hume carefully avoids the category mistake of transcending the border from mental to material things and keeps consequently, at least methodologically, to the absolute caesura between mind and body. The Spinozistic reader must necessarily feel sympathy for this position. The attributes of... (shrink)

This study is an unusual contribution to the philosophy of mind in that it argues for the sometimes unfashionable view of dualism: that mind and matter are distinct and separate entities as Descartes believed. The author takes as his point of departure the imaginative hypothesis of disembodiment, which establishes the possibility of the mind's being a quite non-material thing. There are clear casual correlations between what is physical and what is mental, and the most serious issue confronting dualism since Descartes (...) has been how such an interaction is possible. Dr Hart sets out to answer this question by showing that the issue is as much about the nature of causation as it is about the natures of mind and matter. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Fallen Nature, Fallen Selves: Early Modern French Thought IIDavid Cunning and Seth JonesMichael Moriarty. Fallen Nature, Fallen Selves: Early Modern French Thought II. Oxford-New York: Oxford University Press, 2006. Pp. xviii + 430. Cloth, $125.00.This book is the second of two volumes on a myriad of issues surrounding the early modern distinction between the embodied self and the immaterial self that is one of its components. One of (...) the theses of the book is that, although canonical philosophers like Descartes and Malebranche hold that it is in some sense the latter that is our true self, and although they expend a significant amount of their corpus trying to help us to touch base with it, they also offer well-developed and insightful views about our embodiment and about what we are to do as embodied beings. Another thesis of the book is that, even if early modern philosophers tend to think that we have unimpeded and transparent access to our psychological states after we have done enough reflection to keep our embodiment from restricting the view, a concomitant position in the period is that we otherwise have very little self-knowledge. A related thesis is that important elements of the psychoanalytic tradition of Freud and Lacan can be traced back to philosophers like Descartes and Malebranche and to the investigations that they inspire in their contemporaries and successors. The book is ambitious and is an extremely interesting and important contribution.Descartes holds that as a result of the bad habits of childhood we come to misrepresent external bodies as having qualities like color, smell, taste, and sound. Building on the work of volume one, Moriarty (5, 335–36, 372–73, 243–44) reminds us that Descartes also holds that we come to misrepresent our minds as in part tangible and corporeal (the Second Meditation, Second Replies) and that the Cartesian project of clarifying ideas is not restricted to the ideas of natural science. Indeed, Moriarty could also cite Descartes’s remark that there are circumstances in which we might report that we are thinking of our selves when in fact we are only thinking of our bodies (Principles of Philosophy I:12). Descartes seems to allow that if we are not sufficiently reflective and observant, our thinking is not transparent to us, and if so he is leaving open the view that we can mischaracterize our own psychological states. Descartes does not speak explicitly to this kind of mischaracterization, but in later writings (especially Passions of the Soul and the letters to Princess Elizabeth) he does speak to the importance of clearly defining the passions and distinguishing them, and to the importance of knowing the relationships between brain traces and particular passions so that we can understand our motivations and get a better handle on them (315). Moriarty then brings to the table a number of figures who develop these positions. In Nicole, we find the view that, from the first-person perspective, it can be very difficult to distinguish acting from charity and acting from self-love, and that we have a considerable interest in identifying ourselves as acting from the former (219–24). In La Rochefoucauld, we find the view that friendship is often a matter of wanting to see a certain image of ourselves reflected in and confirmed by others and that true friendship is very rare (243). We might focus on figures like Nicole insofar as they engage the more traditional questions of metaphysics and epistemology, but issues of embodiment and self-knowledge were also front and center in the early modern period, and the contributions of Nicole, Lamy, La Rochefoucauld, and Senault (just to name just a few) are enormous.Another strength of the book is that it highlights the systematic nature of early modern work on self-knowledge. For example, Moriarty not only considers the empirical psychology of thinkers like Nicole and Lamy, but also shows how their results are grounded in fully articulated views of habit, language, and imagination (361–63, 371–74). Of course, these views are Cartesian as well.The book also has some potential problems. Some philosophers might worry that it is a stretch... (shrink)

The conception of René Descartes as the arch-rationalist has been sufficiently exploded in recent literature; however, there is still a large lacuna in our understanding of how empirical research and experimentation fits within his philosophy. My dissertation is directed at addressing just this problem. I contend that Descartes’ famed method is not a singular monolith but instead two interdependent methods: one directed at metaphysical and epistemological truth, while the other directed at empirical questions and contingent facts of the world. I (...) claim there is evidence for this position not only in his actual scientific practice, but also in the rhetorical structure of the Discourse on Method and the Principles of Philosophy. In exploring the empirical side of Descartes’ method, I show how his unusual system produces a system of experiment designed to serve both as a discovery and verification tool at the same time. As a further application of my interpretation, I argue that the Passions of the Soul and Descartes’ ethical theory expressed in his correspondence must also be seen as part of his two-fold methodology. Instead of attempting to cast Descartes as a virtue ethicist or deontologist, as is normally done, I emphasize that Descartes’ ethics is centered on the mind-body union, and therefore, includes an empirical element as well. The end result is an ethics that requires a detailed study of mechanics, anatomy, physics, as well as medicine. Lastly, I show how this methodology can help us understand the works of some of his early followers: Claude Gadroys and Jacques Rohault. Both of these philosophers not only serve to ground my interpretation, but also to highlight aspects of Cartesian that have often been passed over. I show how the experimentalism of Jacques Rohault goes beyond the epistemological boundaries set up by Descartes, as signifies a new direction that will ultimately eclipse the Cartesian school of thought. In the case of Claude Gadroys, I present a concrete example of the exploitation of the over generality of Cartesian principles. In so doing, I show that while Descartes’ experimentalism was intended to rule out the possibility of occult causes, he in fact created a system that allowed for them, only under a different guise. (shrink)

Mental health in Plato's Republic.--The practical syllogism and incontinence.--Aristotle on happiness.--Intellect and imagination in Aquinas.--Descartes on the will.--Cartesian privacy.--Appendix: The history of intention in ethics.--Bibliography (p. [147]).

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:,178 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY in accord with Thomas on certain important points, but his own theology is more in the spirit of Plato and Augustine. Professor Kristeller's vast learning is at the service of admirably balanced conclusions. Not everyone will agree with all his interpretations; Ficino perhaps did not imagine himself to be "constructing a system of philosophy" (p. 96) since the very title of his work, Theologia platonica, (...) suggests that he continues, with new materials, the labor of mediaeval theolo#ans. And Ficino's doctrine of the continuity of the supernatural life of the soul in this world and the next (p. 120) seems to be completely in accord with Thomas. But the author's very careful scholarly method and sound general conclusions are beyond criticism. Two hitherto unpublished Latin texts are printed in critical edition at the end of the French lecture, the Opus aureum in Thomistas by Baptists Mantuanus, which is anti-Thomas, and the Opusculum ad Laurentium Medicem on beatitude, by Vincentius Bandellus, which is pro-Thomas. Like Professor Kristeller's fine lecture, these new texts are a permanent contribution to scholarship. PAUL J. W. MILLER University of Colorado The Anatomy of Leviathan. By F. S. McNeilly. (New York: St. Martin's Press, 1968. Pp. 264. $8.50) The one thing about which Hobbes's commentators have agreed is the absence of any significant process of development in the several statements of his philosophic views. This has been most evident in their willingness to use the various texts as a common repository from which evidence for their interpretations could be drawn with little regard for its specific textual origin. Notoriously, no consensus has emerged from such endeavors and McNeilly believes this method of interpreting Hobbes far too indiscriminate. He contends that careful examination of the differing expressions and contexts of apparently recurrent arguments will show, in many cases, not the same argument repeated several times, but several different arguments. And these, properly discriminated, reveal a definite pattern of development culminating, in Leviathan, with a political theory substantially different from that of the earlier works. While the political theory of the Elements of Law and De Cive consists of a series of predictions founded on the known psychological tendencies of men, the theory of Leviathan, MeNeilly contends, is independent of any particular concept of human nature. Rather it is a "formal system of necessarily true propositions" (p. 213) constituting "a systematic analysis of value systems generally" (p. 245). Excepting two introductory chapters, the whole of McNeilly's argument is given over to substantiating this radical thesis, his point of departure being Hobbes's allegedly shifting views on method which are taken to vary somewhat inconsistently in the earlier works among self evidence, conventionalist and hypothetico-deductive theories and combinations of these. By contrast, in Leviathan, McNeilly argues, Hobbes expounds a conventionalist view with "clarity and persistence" (pp. 84-85). When this BOOK REVIEWS 479 conventionalism is combined with the adoption of mathematics as the paradigm of sound science, it leads Hobbes to the view that pohtical theory can be constructed as a formal system of necessary propositions because he believes that mathematics is about the world and extends this mistake to formal systems generally. These methodological commitments then, render any concept of human nature irrelevant to political theory. McNeilly's task in the second main section of the book is to show that in contrast to the earlier works, and contrary to all appearances, the Leviathan's account of human nature is completely neutral with regard to any possible set of motives and hence, wholly formal. Specifically he argues that materialism and mechanism play no active role in Hobbes's account of the passions and that the psychological egoism characteristic of the Elements and the fourth part of De Corpore is abandoned. (Throughout it is assumed that De Corpore was substantially complete before Leviathan was composed; this may not be true of the fourth part, as McNeilly recognizes, but he is undeterred.) The formal account of the passions in Leviathan then is formally compatible with either egoistic or nonegoistic interpretations of human motivation. Similarly, it is argued that Hobbes gives up his pessimism about men as... (shrink)

This chapter discusses Descartes thoughts on the seat of the soul or that part of the body which the soul is directly and intimately united. Descartes explains the simplicity principle: If the soul is simple, or indivisible, it can interact directly with only one object at once, thus indivisible. For example, if an animal's heart is taken and cut into pieces, the soul's indivisibility means that the soul cannot act directly upon the dissected parts of (...) the heart. Descartes also consistently identified the pineal gland as the seat of the soul— partly because it was mobile, durable, protected from outside influence, and accessible to the nerves. It also explains that the mind is not affected by all parts of the body, but only the brain and one small part of the brain only where a certain part of the brain is affected while other parts are doing other things. This chapter finally reveals that the simplicity principle of Descartes will have strong difficulties in the final analysis in relation to the truth of God. (shrink)

ABSTRACT. This essay addresses the interpretation of Descartes’ understanding of the mind-body relationship as a substantial union in light of a statement he makes in the Passions de l’âme regarding the role of the blood and vital heat. Here, it seems Descartes cites these corporeal properties as the essential dispositions responsible for accommodating the soul into the human fetus. I argue that this statement should be read in the context of certain medical texts with which Descartes was familiar, (...) namely those of Jean Fernel and William Harvey. Reviewing Fernel’s comments on substantial union, one finds that the soul joins the body on the basis of a celestial spirit that not only bears the vital heat, it also directs the generation of the body. Similar to Harvey, Descartes locates these properties in the blood itself, although, in contrast to Harvey, Descartes reduces these processes to matter and motion. Finally, I highlight the role this heat plays in Descartes’ embryological writing, contrasting it with that of Fernel. I conclude that although Descartes makes various comments supporting a reading of the mind-body relation as a substantial union, his physiological writings on generation and his idea of ‘life’ contradict this interpretation. -/- . (shrink)

A major contribution to Descartes studies, this book provides a panorama of cutting-edge scholarship ranging widely over Descartes's own primary concerns: metaphysics, physics, and its applications. It is at once a tool for scholars and--steering clear of technical Cartesian science--an accessible resource that will delight nonspecialists. The contributors include Edwin Curley, Willis Doney, Alan Gabbey, Daniel Garber, Marjorie Grene, Gary Hatfield, Marleen Rozemond, John Schuster, Dennis Sepper, Stephen Voss, Stephen Wagner, Margaret Welson, Jean Marie Beyssade, Michelle Beyssade, Michel Henry, Evert (...) van Leeuwen, Jean-Luc Marion, Genevieve Rodis-Lewis, and Jean-Pierre Seris. Combining new textual sensitivity with attentiveness to history, they represent the best established scholars and most exciting new voices, including both English speaking and newly-translated writers. Part I examines the foundations of Descartes's philosophy: Cartesian certainty; the phenomenology of the cogito and its modulations in the passions; and the defensibility and comprehensibility of the Cartesian God. The second part examines Descartes's groundbreaking metaphysics: mind's distinctness from and interaction with body; imagination; perception; and language. Part III examines Cartesian science: the revolutionary rhetoric of the Rules and the Discourse; the metaphysical foundations of physics; the interplay of rationalism and empiricism; the mechanics and human biology that flow from Descartes's physics. (shrink)

According to the standard Aristotelian doctrine of the identity of passion and action (Ipa), a passion and the action with which it is identified are distinguished through a distinction of reason, and both passion and action are located in the patient. Descartes has recently been interpreted by some scholars to be rejecting Ipa in favor of a view that throws into contention a dualistic interpretation of his philosophy of mind. This article contends that Descartes did hold Ipa, albeit expressed in (...) his own metaphysical vocabulary of substance and mode. On this interpretation, (1) a passion and the action with which it is identified are distinguished through a conceptual distinction or distinction of reason and (2) the passion and the action constitute one and the same mode which is locatedin the patient. This result is significant first, because it shows Descartes's retention of a fundamentally Aristotelian understanding of the metaphysical categories of passion and action and second, because it removes some of the support for recent interpretations on which Descartes is seen in the Passions of the Soul to diverge from a dualistic view of mind and body. (shrink)

Is it not surprising that we look with so much pleasure and emotion at works of art that were made thousands of years ago? Works depicting people we do not know, people whose backgrounds are usually a mystery to us, who lived in a very different society and time and who, moreover, have been ‘frozen’ by the artist in a very deliberate pose. It was the Classical Greek philosopher Aristotle who observed in his Poetics that people could apparently be moved (...) even by the imitation of a person or an act. And although we are usually well aware that it is a simulacrum, not a real situation, it nevertheless sometimes seems as if we ourselves are standing there on the stage or in the painting, so intense and emotional is our response, even though we are just spectators. Aristotle concludes from this that we have intellectual capacities which allow us put ourselves in another’s place and consequently to react to simulated situations as though they are actually happening to us, here and now. In this process, he contends, observation, memory, imagination and emotions are crucial elements. In the past it was not customary to invoke human mental faculties to explain our response to works of art. The Ancient Greeks, after all, knew little about the human body or brain and usually referred to the extended world of the gods in their endeavours to comprehend the ‘inner world’ of human beings. In our time the situation is completely different—such an allusion to the brain no longer surprises us. Whether it is about the mystery of the consciousness, the question of free will or accounts of bizarre psychological aberrations or disorders, we have become accustomed to references to parts of the brain, to images of brain scans, to reports about neural networks and the like. However, because there are so many factors that play a part in our appreciation of works of art we need a complex explanation for it, and it is not enough to look only at certain properties of the brain that are determined by evolution. Those properties are shared by every human being, and so are rather useless in explaining people’s different reactions to the same work of art. Evidently the brains of individuals differ so much that they make it possible for people to respond differently to one and the same artwork. This, of course, raises questions concerning the painted emotions that can be seen in this exhibition. Virtually everyone, after all, is fascinated by such paintings and usually recognizes the emotions they represent. The reactions to these painted emotions are also often similar. This is probably why artworks like this are generally highly valued, then and now, here and elsewhere: from the enigmatically smiling Egyptian Queen Nefertiti and the startled Rembrandt to a seemingly despairing African mask. Aristotle observed that in the theatre players imitate actions that are associated with emotions in a number of ways and that these emotions are shared in a particular fashion by the playwright, the actors and the audience. The audience may even be carried away by these emotions to such an extent that they are in a sense purged of them and can subsequently leave the theatre relieved. Are such emotional reactions perhaps related to the fact that emotions are universal and that brains respond similarly to them? Is this why we can so readily identify painted emotions? May we therefore also assume that the properties of the brain determined by evolution help us to explain these emotions? In answering these questions we shall discuss a number of insights into emotions in psychology and brain science and explore some theories about the possible function of emotions and their expression. (shrink)

What are Descartes’s views on the body and how do they change? In this article, I try to make clearer the nature of the shift towards an increased focus on the body as ‘my’ body in Descartes’s Passions of the Soul. The interest in the nature of passions, considered from the point of view of the ‘natural scientist’, is indicative of a new approach to the study of the human. Moving beyond the infamous mind-body union, grounded in (...) his dualist metaphysics, Descartes begins developing a philosophical anthropology centred on the notion of power and better suited to practical philosophy. (shrink)

In Timothie Bright and the Origins of Early Modern Shorthand, J. D. Fleming brings together two areas of sixteenth-century intellectual history. One is the period emergence of artificial systems for verbatim shorthand notation-a crucial episode in the history of information. The other is the ancient medical discourse of melancholy humour, or black bile. Timothie Bright (1550-1615), physician and priest, prompts the juxtaposition. For he was the author, not only of the period's original shorthand manual-Characterie (1588)-but also of the first book (...) in English on the dark humour: The Treatise of Melancholy (1586). Bright's account of melancholy involves a cybernetic phenomenology of the human. Essentially, we are psyches (souls or minds). We are sealed off from our bodies, operating them as automata across an interface. Psychological presence, for Bright, is illusion and pathology. Engrossing performances or representations therefore bring great danger, and so does the doctrine of predestination-less for its content than its typical delivery. Painful preaching was indispensable in sixteenth-century English Protestantism. But it falls foul of Bright's proscriptions. This is followed by his publication of the first known system for verbatim shorthand notation since antiquity, its technique heavily inflected toward a vocabulary of the pulpit. The passionate, oral performance of the inspired preacher receives an unprecedented textual preservative-and prophylactic. Bright's technology of information serves his phenomenology of alienation. This book will be of interest to students and scholars of the early modern period, the tradition of melancholy, and the history of information-as theory, and technology. (shrink)

Is there a ghost in the machine? Are we born trailing clouds of glory? Is there a part of us that will survive death? Is the soul reborn in different bodily forms? These and similar questions have occupied humankind since the dawn of consciousness. Rosalie Osmond's book explores the way the soul has been represented in different cultures and at different times, from ancient Egypt and Greece, through medieval Europe and into the 21st century. Basing her approach on (...) historical sources, she reveals the many different ways in which the soul has been imagined and the range of human needs and aspirations these imaginings have addressed. (shrink)

For this special issue, dedicated to the historical break in what one might call ‘the politics of feeling’ between ancient ‘passions’ (in the ‘soul’) and modern ‘emotions’ (in the ‘mind’), I will suggest that the pivotal difference might be located instead between ancient and modern conceptions of the passions. Through new interpretations of two exemplars of these conceptions, Plato’s Phaedrus and Descartes’ Passions of the Soul, I will suggest that our politics today need to return (...) to what I term Plato’s ‘psychological virtue’ (drawing on virtue’s dual senses as ‘goodness’ and ‘power’), defined as a dynamic tension among mindful desire (nous), carnal desire (epithumia) and societal desire (thumos) achieved through rational discourse (logos). The upshot of this concept of psychological virtue, is that mind, at least via discourse, is also a desiring force, and thus capable of helping create new actions for souls in the political world. (shrink)

A second reason for this neglect is the form in which Descartes was led or compelled to present his soul doctrine in the Meditations. In some complex manner the Meditations is both a medieval, scholastic-Aristotelian writing, as well as the acknowledged founding writing of modern philosophy. It is traditional as "first philosophy" or speculative metaphysics of substance, and as Christian apologetics concerned with the salvation of the infidel. In accordance with both, the soul is a separate, immaterial substance (...) with an immortal destiny unprejudiced by the fate of the body. On the other hand, the Meditations is novel or modern as quest for indubitable "foundations" of the edifice of the sciences. The goal of the edifice of science is however stated only in the non-apologetic or more secular writings: the "mastery and ownership of nature," or "the enjoyment of the fruits of the earth in this life without pain," or such a wisdom as depends on knowing that "the mind depends acutely on the temperament, and the disposition of the organs of the body...". It is tempting to distinguish two Cartesian soul doctrines, the separate and immortal soul of the apologetic Meditations, and a secular soul articulated mainly outside the Meditations and especially in the Passions of the Soul, where Descartes speaks "as a physicist," addresses "the whole nature of man", never mentions any doctrine of substance, and remains utterly unperplexed about the interaction of mind and body. While such a gross distinction proves to be not without a certain homely truth, it leads us away from the Meditations, the classic document of the discovery of the modern soul doctrine. (shrink)