Part I, Chapter VII

OF THE ENDS OR RESOLUTIONS OF DISCOURSE

Every discourse governed by a desire for knowledge comes at last to an end, either through attainment or through giving up. Wherever the chain of discourse is broken, there is an end for that time.

If the discourse is purely mental, it consists of alternating thoughts that a thing will be and will not be, or that it has been and has not been. Thus wherever you break off the chain of a person's discourse, you leave that person presuming either that it will be or that it will not be, or that it has been or has not been. All these are opinions. What is alternating appetite in deliberation about good and evil is alternating opinion in inquiry into the truth of the past and future. And as the last appetite in deliberation is called the will, so the last opinion in the search for the truth of the past and future is called the JUDGMENT, or the firm and final verdict of the person reasoning. And as the whole chain of alternating appetites in a question of good or bad is called deliberation, so the whole chain of alternating opinions in a question of true or false is called DOUBT.

No discourse whatever can end in absolute knowledge of fact, past or future. Knowledge of fact has its origin in sense and persists afterward in memory. And knowledge of consequence, which I have said is called science, is not absolute but conditional. No one can know by discourse that this or that is, has been, or will be—which would be absolute knowledge—but only that if this is, that is; if this has been, that has been; if this shall be, that shall be. This is conditional knowledge, not of the consequence of one thing from another, but of one name of a thing from another name of the same thing.

Therefore, when discourse is put into speech and begins with definitions of words, proceeds by joining them into general affirmations, and joins these in turn into syllogisms, its end or final sum is called the conclusion; and the thought it expresses is that conditional knowledge, or knowledge of the consequence of words, commonly called science. But if the first foundation of such discourse is not definitions, or if the definitions are not rightly joined in syllogisms, then the end or conclusion is again OPINION: an opinion of the truth of something said, sometimes even in absurd and senseless words that cannot possibly be understood. When two or more people know one and the same fact, they are said to be CONSCIOUS of it with one another: that is, to know it together. And because such people are the best witnesses to one another's acts, or to those of a third person, it was and always will be considered a grave wrong for anyone to speak against conscience, or to corrupt or compel another to do so. Accordingly, the plea of conscience has always been heard with great care. Later, people used the same word metaphorically for knowledge of their own secret actions and thoughts; hence the rhetorical saying that conscience is a thousand witnesses. Finally, people passionately attached to their own new opinions, however absurd, and obstinately determined to defend them, gave those opinions too the revered name of conscience, as if they wished to make it seem unlawful to change them or speak against them. Thus they claim to know the opinions are true when at most they know only that they think so.

When a person's discourse does not begin with definitions, it begins either with some other thought of their own, in which case it is still called opinion, or with something said by another person whose capacity to know the truth and honesty in not deceiving they do not doubt. Then the discourse concerns not so much the thing as the person, and its resolution is called BELIEF and FAITH: faith in the person, belief both in the person and in the truth of what that person says. Belief, then, contains two opinions: one about what the person says, the other about that person's integrity. To have faith in, trust, or believe a person means the same thing: to hold an opinion of that person's truthfulness. But to believe what is said means only to hold an opinion of the truth of the statement. We must observe, however, that the phrase I believe in, as well as the Latin Credo In and the Greek Pisteno Eis, occurs only in the writings of theologians. Other writings use instead I believe him, I have faith in him, I rely on him; in Latin, Credo Illi, Fido Illi; and in Greek, Pisteno Anto. This peculiarity of ecclesiastical usage has raised many disputes about the proper object of Christian faith.

But by believing in, as the Creed has it, is meant not trust in the person, but confession and acknowledgment of the doctrine. For not only Christians but all sorts of people believe in God in the sense of accepting as true everything they hear him say, whether or not they understand it. This is all the faith and trust one can possibly have in anyone; yet they do not all believe the doctrine of the Creed.

From this we may infer that whenever we believe a statement to be true on arguments drawn not from the thing itself or from the principles of natural reason, but from the authority of the speaker and our good opinion of that speaker, then the speaker, the person in whom we believe or trust and whose word we accept, is the object of our faith; and the honor conferred by believing is conferred on that person alone. Consequently, when we believe the Scriptures to be the word of God without receiving immediate revelation from God himself, our belief, faith, and trust are in the Church, whose word we accept and rest upon. Those who believe what a prophet relates to them in God's name accept the prophet's word, honor and trust the prophet, and believe the prophet about the truth of what is related, whether the prophet is true or false. So it is with every other history. If I did not believe all that historians have written about the glorious deeds of Alexander or Caesar, I do not think the ghost of Alexander or Caesar, or anyone but the historian, would have just cause for offense. If Livy says that the gods once made a cow speak and we do not believe it, we distrust not God but Livy. It is evident, then, that whatever we believe for no reason beyond the authority of people and their writings, whether they are sent from God or not, is faith in people alone.

CHAPTER VIII. OF THE VIRTUES COMMONLY CALLED INTELLECTUAL, AND THEIR CONTRARY DEFECTS

Of the Ends or Conclusions of Reasoning

Every line of reasoning driven by a desire for knowledge eventually ends, either because we reach an answer or because we give up. Wherever the chain of reasoning breaks off, it has ended for the time being.

When reasoning takes place only in the mind, our thoughts alternate: something will happen, then it will not; or something happened, then it did not. So wherever you interrupt someone's chain of thought, you leave that person assuming either that it will or will not happen, or that it did or did not happen. All these assumptions are opinions. In deliberation about good and evil, desires alternate. In investigating the truth about the past and future, opinions alternate in the same way. The final desire in deliberation is called the will. In the same way, the final opinion in a search for truth about the past or future is called the judgment, the reasoner's settled and final verdict. The whole sequence of alternating desires about good and bad is deliberation. Likewise, the whole sequence of alternating opinions about true and false is doubt.

No reasoning can end in absolute knowledge of a fact, past or future. Knowledge of a fact begins in the senses and afterward exists in memory. Knowledge of consequences, which I have already called science, is conditional, not absolute. Reasoning cannot tell someone absolutely that a particular thing exists, existed, or will exist. It can only tell them that if this exists, that exists; if this happened, that happened; and if this will happen, that will happen. This is conditional knowledge. Moreover, it concerns not the consequence of one thing from another, but the consequence of one name for a thing from another name for that same thing.

When reasoning is expressed in speech, it starts with definitions of words. It then combines those words into general statements and combines the statements into syllogisms. Its final result is called the conclusion. The thought expressed by the conclusion is conditional knowledge, or knowledge of the consequences of words, commonly called science. But if such reasoning does not start with definitions, or if the definitions are not properly joined in syllogisms, its conclusion is again only opinion. It is an opinion about the truth of something said, even if that thing is sometimes put in absurd, senseless words that cannot be understood. When two or more people know about the same fact, they are said to be conscious of it together: they share knowledge of it. Because they make the best witnesses to each other's actions, or to a third person's, it has always been considered deeply wrong to speak against one's conscience, or to corrupt or force another person to do so. That is why appeals to conscience have always received close attention. Later people used the same word figuratively for their knowledge of their own secret acts and thoughts. Thus the saying that conscience is a thousand witnesses is a figure of speech. Finally, people passionately attached to their own new opinions, however absurd, and determined to defend them, gave those opinions the respected name of conscience too. They wanted it to seem wrong to change or contradict them. They claimed to know their opinions were true when, at most, they knew only that they held them.

If someone's reasoning does not start from definitions, it starts either from another thought of their own, in which case its result is still called opinion, or from someone else's statement. In the second case, they have no doubt about that person's ability to know the truth or honesty in telling it. Their reasoning then concerns the person more than the subject. Its conclusion is called belief and faith: faith in the person, and belief both in the person and in the truth of what that person says. Belief therefore contains two opinions, one about what the person says and one about that person's character. To have faith in, trust, or believe a person all mean the same thing: to consider that person truthful. To believe what is said means only to think the statement true. But notice that the expression “I believe in,” like the Latin “Credo In” and the Greek “Pisteno Eis,” appears only in the writings of theologians. Other writings instead say “I believe him,” “I have faith in him,” or “I rely on him”; in Latin, “Credo Illi” and “Fido Illi”; in Greek, “Pisteno Anto.” This special church use of the word has caused many disputes over the proper object of Christian faith.

But “believing in,” as used in the Creed, means confessing and acknowledging its doctrine, not trusting a person. Christians are not alone in believing God in the sense of accepting everything they hear him say as true, whether or not they understand it. People of every kind can do that. This is the fullest faith and trust anyone can have in any person. Yet they do not all believe the doctrine of the Creed.

It follows that when we believe a statement because of the authority and good opinion of the speaker, rather than arguments from the matter itself or principles of natural reason, the speaker is the object of our faith. It is that person we believe and trust and whose word we accept. That person alone receives the honor of being believed. Consequently, if we believe the Scriptures are the word of God without any direct revelation from God himself, our belief, faith, and trust are placed in the Church. We accept its word and rest on it. People who believe what a prophet tells them in God's name accept the prophet's word. They honor and trust him about what he reports, whether he is a true prophet or a false one. The same applies to all other history. If I disbelieved everything historians wrote about the glorious deeds of Alexander or Caesar, I doubt either man's ghost would have good reason to be offended. Only the historian might. If Livy says the gods once made a cow speak and we do not believe him, it is Livy we distrust, not God. Clearly, whatever we believe solely on the authority of human beings and their writings, whether or not they were sent by God, is faith in human beings alone.

Chapter VIII. Of the Qualities Commonly Called Intellectual Virtues, and Their Opposite Defects