All language subtitles for ENG II

PART II

Sir.

Yes, my dear Bretagne, what
is the news this morning?

It is a beautifuI day, sir.

I see that you went through
many candles last night.

You worked untiI very late.

Sir, sir.
- Yes.

- It is almost noon.
- Noon?

Yes, and a gentleman has been
waiting for you for over an hour.

Send him away.

He is surely a barbarian if he
wishes to bother me so early.

He is a merchant from Paris.

He says that he has a letter
for you from Father Mersenne.

Shall I send him away?

Don't be silly.

Go, tell him that I shall
dress and see him right away.

Oh, and tell the cooks
to prepare a meaI for two.

- Yes.
- And tell them that it must be rich.

Very well, sir.

This must be an important guest

if your master has ordered the most
expensive fruit from the market.

This way.

Come.

Should I tell our friends in Paris

that you have no intention of
returning to France for the time being?

Absolutely.

It is truly incredible

that you prefer to live in this
town of merchants and sailors

rather than in Paris,
the city of the scholars.

Ever since I have
settled here in Dordrecht

I have not once wished
to return to Paris.

And to tell the truth,
I prefer this seclusion.

I prefer it not only to the silence of
the Carthusian convents and the hermitages,

but also to the discretion of
certain villas in France and Italy,

in which men are wont to seek
refuge in order to study in peace.

Those villas lack
many of the comforts

that can be found in
cities such as this one.

But Paris is a big city.

But I am too well known,

whereas here, there is no one,

except myself, who
is not a merchant.

And each is so thoroughly
consumed by his interests

that I could spend
my entire life here

without ever being
disturbed by a single souI.

There is a schooI of Latin letters,

and in this schooI,

with the exception of
my only friend, Beeckman,

no one else, to my knowledge,

is interested in the
things that occupy my mind.

Every day, I take a walk

through the bustle
of a large population

with the same freedom and peace

that you might find
in a country villa.

And I look at the men I meet

just as I would look at the
trees and animals in a forest.

The very noise of their trade

can interrupt my musings

no more than, say, the
burbling of a stream.

Besides, tell me, you
with all your traveling,

where else in the world

might you enjoy such totaI
freedom as here in Holland?

But the climate.

The winter here is very harsh.

The dampness of the fog
corrodes one's bones.

It is sufficient to
have a good wood stove

and not to leave the house
when the weather is bad.

You are incorrigibly stubborn.

Two weeks from now, you
may collect my response

to the letter from Father
Mersenne that you brought me.

I was hoping you would
give it to me right away.

No.

My response to Father Mersenne
requires much reflection,

and I cannot now interrupt

a new and difficult study in
optics that I am conducting.

I shall return to Dordrecht only
at the end of my trip, in 30 days.

Then I shall leave the package
with the landlady here at the inn,

for I shall no longer be
here in a month's time.

And where will you be?

I do not know yet.

I think you know perfectly
well where you will be,

but you do not want to tell me.

They say that when you write
to your friends in Paris

you mysteriously date your letters

not from the place in
which you are living,

but from other cities,
Amsterdam, Leiden,

places, in short, where no
one will be able to find you.

It is very difficult to find
such beautifuI fruit in Paris.

Here in Holland it arrives in large
quantities from the West Indies.

Are you certain that it is
not bad for the intestines?

Absolutely.

It is much more digestible than
the discourses of certain doctors.

I thank you.

I thank you very much for sharing with
me your point of view on the hyperbole.

But at the same time, I am sorry
that you have also come to tell me

that you have decided
to leave again.

You are the most restless
man I have ever met.

Tell me at least where you are going.
- I am going to Franeker.

So I shall lose you once again.

Ten years ago, when you left Breda,

you promised never to leave
me without news of you,

and yet you were
silent for 10 years.

And I awaited in vain your
texts on mechanics and algebra,

and I shall continue to wait,
for you have not written them.

You are right to reprimand me.

You were born with a mind suited
to the study of mathematics

and I think you are wrong to
squander your time and your talent

on disciplines not suited to you.

My mind is attracted
to mathematics,

as I think I have
told you many times,

only because they allow one
to employ certain processes

which in my opinion

can demonstrate metaphysicaI truths

with more clarity than
what is usually achieved

by using the demonstrations
of philosophy.

This certainty of yours is
what seems excessive to me.

You believe it is possible
to apply to metaphysics -

It is possible.

Have you read what I have
proven on this piece of paper?

The rays, as you can see, strike
the lens in a paralleI position.

The lens diverts their course

and they converge and
coincide perfectly in one spot.

It all appears clear,
simple, evident.

And you think you can
bring the same clarity

and the same simplicity
to philosophicaI proofs

by using mathematicaI processes?

My dear friend, perhaps you
have lost sight of the fact

that philosophy does not consider
merely the materiaI realities,

but by means of reason

it guides man toward
the contemplation of God.

Are you sure that
mathematicaI processes

are adequate, by their very nature,

to bring the mind of man closer

to a reality as
subtle as that of God?

Dear Beeckman,

I wrote about this
to Father Mersenne

and I shall repeat it to you

and to anyone who raises
an objection to this theory.

I shall never speak of the
matters of theology. Never.

They depend on truths
that are revealed

through the word of Jesus Christ

and his prophets.

But where the subjects of
philosophy are concerned,

I say that they should be
examined with all of man's reason.

It is by this means that I have
proven the foundations of physics.

And using the same methods,

beyond physicaI science,

I am firmly convinced that I can
demonstrate questions both of philosophy

and of metaphysics.

As for your question,

if mathematicaI processes

are by their very nature

suited to bringing the mind of
man closer to the mystery of God,

I will say to you
that all of creation

is his work

and the mathematicaI truths

that depend on him,

are also his work,

like the rest of creation.

To say that such truths are
separate and independent from him

would be like comparing God
to a Jupiter or a Saturn.

It would be like
trying to subject him

to a reality outside of
him and independent of him.

The clarity of
mathematics, its rules,

come from God and
are subject to him.

Why then should we fear

that they may be used by
us men as an instrument

to know all truths?

As usuaI, your reasoning
is exact and acute,

and I regret that your
departure will deprive me

of the comfort of being able
to listen to it in the future.

- I shall write you.
- This I truly do not believe.

You know me too
little, dear Beeckman.

The thought of your friendship will
always be a great comfort to me.

The blood of all living
beings pulses inside the veins

and is moved and pushed
in all directions at once

so all the veins pulse
in the same instant

because they all depend on the
heart, which moves them constantly.

These are the
teachings of Aristotle,

who like all the
ancients, called veins

what we today call arteries.

The heart is the
cause of this movement.

The heart of the eeI, for instance,

once extracted and placed
on a table or on a hand

clearly behaves this way.

And the same is true about
the hearts of small fish

and all other
cold-blooded animals.

Although in fish

and all other cold-blooded
animals like snakes and frogs,

the heart is paler when it moves,

whereas during moments of stasis,
it recovers its vivid red color.

These observations,
gentlemen, are not mine.

I can only tell you that I have
confirmed them with my experience,

because I have performed vivisections
and dissections on land and sea animals.

These observations were
published for the first time

in a book printed by
Wilhelm Fitzer in Frankfurt

with the title De Motu Cordis
et Sanguinis in Animalibus,

written by a man whom I consider to be
one of the world's greatest scientists,

Sir William Harvey.

He dedicated it in 1628

to the most serene and undefeated
Charles, King of England.

Harvey writes:

"The heart of animate beings
is the foundation of life,

the lord of all that is connected
to life, the sun of the microcosm.

All vitaI acts depend on the heart,

all energy and vigor
come from the heart,

in the same way as the king is
the foundation of his kingdom,

the sun of the state. "

The blood can reach the
remotest parts of the body

through the arteries and
through ever smaller ducts.

Spreading within the
tissues, it irrigates them,

gives them vigor,
causes them to live.

The veins, in turn, gather it
up and return it to the heart

and this determines a
never-ending circuit. "

So you maintain that the blood
is alive in the body of animals,

of fish and of men without
any externaI influence.

Do you deny the
influence of the stars?

Certainly, certainly.

When we dissect a body

and we observe life
pulsing inside an organism,

we are convinced that many theories

supported to this day by the
men of science who preceded us

are pure fantasy.

A scholar must toiI for years to
discover the secrets of nature.

We must observe, measure,
calculate, compare

for days and days, and if that is
not enough, for years and years.

We must know how to correct
our errors with humility

and if necessary, start
over without presumption.

The road to knowledge
is terribly slow

and has nothing to do with the
illusory excitement of the imagination.

Your words are enlightened, sir,

a true rarity among the
scholars of our day and age.

They prefer to consider infallible

the fables written by the ancients
on the nature of the world.

Do you share the
doctor's theory, then?

Of course I share it.

I too have performed dissections
on fish and many other animals

and I too am convinced
that the blood circulates

in the way taught by Dr. Harvey.

I would add that in my opinion

blood is effervescent
by its very nature

and that its continuous
boiling in the heart

is the cause of the pulsations
we observe in all living beings.

On this point, gentlemen, I agree
with the theory of Aristotle.

The heart is a very hot vesseI,

and this easily explains the
mechanism of cardiac motion.

It is like a furnace that
contains and preserves

the matter and
principle of innate heat

which is transmitted
to all the other organs.

On this particular,
I disagree with you.

As Dr. Harvey says,

the movements of the heart consist
of extremely rapid pulsations

and instantaneous beats produced
by something akin to a muscle,

whereas this process of
boiling that you speak of

has no relation to all that.

In a boiling process, as you know,

there can only be a slow
ascent and a graduaI descent,

whereas, on the contrary, in the
heart of any species of animaI

we have extremely rapid beats.

I need to reflect more on this.

I hope you will visit
this university every day

and compare your
reflections with ours.

I am very sorry that I will not
be able to pay another visit,

because I highly
value your theories,

but in the next few days I
shall traveI to Amsterdam,

where I shall meet other scholars.

Good for you, sir. Good for you.

I envy you.

In our century, the only way to
learn new theories is to traveI,

to visit the universities and
compare differing scholarly opinions.

"We must liberate ourselves,"
as Bacon has written,

"from the idols of false philosophy
and build a new science. "

On this point we agree, sir.

In the same year in which CardinaI
Richelieu laid siege to La Rochelle,

Wallenstein, in Germany laid siege
to Stralsund at the mouth of the Oder.

Richelieu was successfuI at La Rochelle,
and the Huguenots were defeated.

Wallenstein was forced to
abandon the siege and to retreat.

Yes, that year was fataI to him.

He had to bow down before
the Swedes and his child died.

His heir, his only hope
for leaving a legacy.

Three years ago, in 1630, I
was in Regensburg on business

and at that very time, the
Diet of Lords in Germany

requested and obtained from the
emperor the dismissaI of Wallenstein

though he had been a great leader.

His troops were hated
throughout Germany.

Never had such arrogant and
violent soldiers been seen, never.

And I remember that they
could not find anyone

willing to go and give
him news of his dismissaI.

But once he was dismissed,
they had to beg him to return

when, after many defeats,

no one was capable of leading
the imperiaI Catholic troops

against the army of
Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden

who had reached the Danube.

Wallenstein was able to
stop Gustavus Adolphus

only because Gustavus Adolphus
was killed on the battlefield.

This was the luck of the
Hapsburgs and the Catholic League.

And you never returned to Bavaria?

Only once, to Munich, to sell
a large shipment of spices.

But ever since the resumption of the fight
between the armies of the Catholic princes

and those of the Protestants,
I prefer to send my salesmen.

The roads are not safe

and entire regions are ravaged
by famine and the plague,

everywhere, from Augusta to W�rttemberg,
from Thuringia to the Palatinate.

One of my salesmen
told me that in Bohemia

he saw packs of wolves
venturing right into the cities.

It is incredible that we are
waging terrible wars here in Europe

now that the world is
becoming bigger and bigger

and there is room for everyone.

The East Indies and the West Indies

are overflowing with riches
from which all could profit.

We Dutch are lucky that the European
princes have not yet realized it.

While they are busy
waging war on one another,

the East India Company
and the West India Company,

during the last 30 years

have procured us so much
trade and so much money

that the coffers of our bankers

are much richer than
those of the king of Spain.

The English have
become aware of this.

Our fleet is much more
powerfuI than theirs

and our sailors are
certainly braver.

Come, let me introduce you to a friend
just arrived from the East Indies.

These are models of the
ships built by my husband.

This is the Beatrix.

It weighs a thousand tons.

It is one of the largest
ships outfitted in Holland.

It bears my daughter's name.

This is the second one, the Muiden,

which is now in the East Indies.

The ships glide between
sea and fluid skies

following the curve of
the terrestriaI sphere.

Mr. Descartes, I am certain
that you will admire an automaton

that my husband bought
from a Bohemian mechanic.

Gentlemen, you have
already seen my automaton.

Yes.

Gentlemen, would you like
to come see my automaton?

You see, Mr. Descartes,
it is almost magic.

There is not even a drop left.

Those who have seen it say that it is
the most perfect automaton in the world.

What do you say, Mr. Descartes?

I would not dare
contradict you, madam.

It is a perfect mechanism.

Using weights,
counterweights, levers,

couplings, gears,

different size wheels and pulleys,

it is possible to endow
even inanimate matter

with any type of movement,

causing it to make gestures
like those made by men

or by animals.

But the bones and muscles of
a man are a living machine.

The largest machine, however,
is that of the heavens,

Mr. Descartes will
certainly agree with me.

The astronomer Ciprus, Constantijn
Huygens, Lord of Zuilichem.

Do you know each other?
- Yes, of course.

Oh yes, we are acquainted.

You are right, the entire
universe is a huge mechanism.

Forgive me for interrupting you,

but I wish to advise Mr. Descartes

that tomorrow I shall begin my
new astronomicaI observations.

You are very kind.

You will do me a great
honor if you will assist me.

I shall certainly
attend, thank you.

I am in fact very interested
in the mechanics of the heavens.

Observe. It is a very
delicate instrument

and it can be moved in any
direction, without any oscillations.

At sundown, I shall
begin my observations.

Gentlemen.

The telescope has revealed to
us the movements of the heavens.

As Bacon says, man is minister
and interpreter of nature

and he can understand it

only by observing its order
through experience and intellect.

He knows nothing more,
nor could he know more.

Nothing, truly nothing.

And the ignorance of the causes
deprives us of knowledge of the effects

and prevents us from acting on
nature in accordance with its laws

and therefore, prevents us
from subjecting it to ourselves.

This too is one of
Bacon's thoughts:

For nature can only be
mastered by obeying it,

and when we are
ignorant of the causes,

our explanations of naturaI
phenomena come from our imagination

and God knows how fallible
our imagination is.

Each century has its
fashions, but fashions fade,

and the world remains the same.

I have much admiration
for you, astronomer Ciprus,

you are the most expert
astronomer I know.

But, if I may say so,

at the moment you are
following a dangerous fashion,

incited by the folly
of a few innovators

whom I do not
approve of in any way.

Are you not perhaps exaggerating?

I admire your theory,

but I cannot approve when you claim
you are discovering in the heavens

new planets with these
instruments of yours

which could very well be just
as fallible as the human eye,

and especially when you claim to
add, with no prudence whatsoever,

new planets to the ones
that are already known.

I cannot comprehend how
discovering a new planet

could be imprudent.

It is a very grave imprudence,

because this is how
astrology has been ruined

together with all its
connections to medicine.

They have added new stars
to the pattern of the sky

with no thought for
the consequences.

They have broken the
order of the Zodiac.

They have upset the known
qualities of the fixed stars,

the calculation of the months
in the formation of the embryo,

the influence and reasons of the stars
in the course of the criticaI days,

and countless other
truths that all depend

on there being seven planets.

So according to you,
scientific progress should cease

just because some people do not want
the bother of updating their old manuals?

We must not be afraid
to write new treatises,

new summae, new explanations
of the structure of the world.

Otherwise, we will have
the paradox of Martin Horky.

I have never heard
of this gentleman.

A pompous man, upon seeing the true
pattern of the sky through the telescope,

he was disturbed because it did not
correspond to the pattern of stars

that he had studied in the manuals.

So he wrote to Kepler
that the telescope,

if turned toward terrestriaI
things, does marvels.

It enlarges objects

and can reveaI everything that
can be seen with the naked eye.

But when aimed at the
sky, it is useless.

I approve of Kepler's theories.

I have verified many of his observations
and replicated many of his calculations.

If he had not died two years ago,
I would have visited him in Lisbon

where he had taken refuge
because of the religious wars,

in order to seek his approvaI.

The orbits of the
planets are ellipses,

of which the sun occupies
one of the two foci.

When Kepler made his
first calculations,

based on the observations
of his teacher, Tycho Brahe,

he made only one mistake,
which he later corrected:

He mistook the ellipses for ovals.

Kepler's brilliant idea

was to represent his observations
on the course of the stars

as they would be measured
if observed from the sun

rather than the earth.

He calculated the entire
orbit to be 687 days,

that is, the orbit of Mars,
along its ellipse around the sun.

To resolve, to
complete revolutions,

means to always return
to the point of origin.

At the end of each
ellipse, in fact,

the planet returns to the
identicaI spot in the sky.

This point and the point of the sun

are the two fixed points
that he used as a reference

to determine the
position of the earth.

With this sort of
triangulation of the heavens

Kepler was able to calculate the orbits
of all the other planets around the sun,

the speed and the distance
between the planets.

These studies are
extremely important.

For example, the earth appears much
bigger than the other celestiaI bodies

and the moon and the sun appear
larger than all the stars.

But if we correct the
defect of our sight

by means of geometric reasoning,

which are the only infallible ones,

we shall realize that the distance
between ourselves and the moon

is approximately 30 times
the earth's diameter,

and six or seven hundred
diameters separate us from the sun.

Comparing these distances

with the apparent diameters
of the sun and the moon,

we shall find that the moon
is smaller than the earth

and the sun is much, much bigger.

Do you too intend, by any chance,

to add a few planets to
those that are already known?

I see that you too have been seduced
by the fashions of the innovators.

I am not an innovator.

I simply try

to discover with absolute certainty

the true face of the universe.

I hope at least that you realize
that the universe is immense

and its true face is
very far away from you.

While we wait for sundown, let us
warm up with more hot chocolate.

And now, gentlemen, I shall
show you something marvelous.

I shall direct the telescope
toward the Pleiades.

I shall extinguish the lantern.

There, gentlemen.

Admire the Pleiades.

I must admit that it works.

The wonders of the heavens.

How vast is the sky.

Please, do not move, sir.

I apologize.

Have you finished
your study of meteors?

I have almost finished.

When do you leave for Deventer?

Tomorrow.

- Sir.
- I apologize.

Dr. Gerolamus will soon be here with
his letter for Mr. Reneri in Deventer.

Yes, I know him.

Dr. Gerolamus is
a very avid reader.

I believe there is not a book in
Amsterdam that he has not read.

An honest man is not
obliged to read every book.

There are many other
things to be done in life

and knowledge does not depend
only on what a man has read,

but also on what he has seen.

- You are right.
- Sir.

You are also right.

Here is the theologian
Gerolamus. Come in, Doctor.

Mr. Huygens has told me some
remarkable things about you.

It appears that you have
read every book in this city.

No, not every one, and I am sorry.

But I have found none of yours.

I have written little. My works
are not yet well distributed.

I am sorry to hear that,
because Mr. Huygens has told me

about your theory on the proper use
of the mind and I find it practicaI.

Mr. Reneri in Deventer
will highly value it.

And do you value it, sir?

Tell Mr. Descartes the truth.
Tell him what you told me.

I am embarrassed.

I do not see why.

It seems to be the fruit of
an immeasurable haughtiness.

You would deprive human reason
of its awe of the creator

and of the Bible, to which
you make no reference at all.

Many have reproached me for this,

but I can assure you, sir, that
I work with the utmost humility,

looking into the nature of things,

because I believe that these
are all creatures of God

and bear the sign of the truth,

whereas man's fantasies,

from which many obscure
theories are born,

are the true fruit of haughtiness.

When I wrote my
treatise on dioptrics,

I did not rely on fantasy.

I dissected and examined
countless eyes of animals

and with the required license,
also those of dead men.

I observed, for example,
that the optic nerve

is composed of a great
number of very small filaments

and that it is one of the materiaI
means for the formation of the image,

the nature of which still remains

a mysterious gift from
the goodness of God.

I think that this research method

subject only to the
oversight of reason,

which combines simple data
and precise deductions,

is, in my opinion, a humble work.

Dr. Gerolamus certainly appreciates
your defense of your work.

I appreciate it very much, sir,
but I do not wish to accuse you.

You certainly work with humility,

but you unwittingly tempt the pride
of those who find in your theory

a justification for
unlimited independence.

But I am certain that you will
comfort Mr. Reneri and his pupils.

Sadly, they will applaud you, given
their immoderate passion for science.

I shall always find
it reprehensible.

Here is what I have
written to Reneri:

"As for your immoderate
love of learning,

I remind you of the words
of our Father Calvin:

'Man's desire to know the truth

is a spark of light.

But this desire
degenerates into vanity

because the human spirit
is so obtuse and weak

that it cannot, alone, stay on the
righteous path in its search for truth

and more often than not,

it is incapable of discerning what
the focus of its study should be

in order to find true knowledge.

The spirit of the man whose
integrity is compromised,

though it is still blessed
with excellent gifts from God,

is too weak.

As the scripture says,

to be our guide in every
circumstance of our life

if it is not aided, instant by instant,
by the light of divine grace. "'

I would appreciate it if you would
deliver this letter to Mr. Reneri

together with my regards.

And I assure you that I admire
your passion for the truth.

I share it, but at the
same time, I fear it.

Bretagne, it is late.

Again this morning he
cannot get out of bed.

The fever has not left
you since you have arrived.

My dear H�l�ne, I
can no longer get up.

I know I shall never rise again.
- What nonsense.

He who has known sickness will
appreciate wellness all the more.

I shall go and wake your master.

There is no long day that
does not come to night.

Sir, your broth is there.

Your servant is still
feverish. He cannot move.

And you should get up. The
sleepy fox catches no prey.

You are impertinent.
What time is it?

It is after noon. Time
and tide wait for no man.

Already noon.

He who eats lives.
He who fasts dies.

Good morning.

He must be a famous scholar.

Everyone in Deventer
is talking about him.

When he walks by he never
looks anyone in the eye

and the students at the
university greet him with respect.

He may be famous, as you say,
but there is a proverb that says:

Make a good reputation for yourself
and you can sleep without worries.

He certainly has unusuaI habits.
He lives locked up in his room,

which is the dirtiest
and messiest of the inn.

For me, order is bread,
disorder is hunger.

Gentlemen, I am honored to
introduce Mr. Ren� Descartes.

He has come to study among us.

He is a Frenchman who has
honored us by coming to Deventer.

He has written on
mechanics and on geometry,

on astronomy and on mathematics

and has established valuable rules
for the direction of the mind.

Mr. Descartes abhors the obscure
nature of scholastic philosophy,

as do many of us.

On the other hand, he does
not admire the novatores,

the innovators who would shock the
world with sophisticated theories,

because he, gentlemen, maintains
that science is like a woman.

If she remains reservedly
close to her spouse,

she will always be
respected by all,

but if she gives of herself to
everyone, she will be despised.

This is why I have
invited Mr. Descartes

to present to us what he intends
to write in a new treatise,

on which he has been
working for a long time now.

I beg you to listen to him.

I thank the masters of the university
and Mr. Reneri for the invitation,

and I am happy to expound
on what you wish to know.

I intend to write in my treatise

everything that can explain
the nature of materiaI things.

In order to express my
thoughts more clearly

without being obliged
to follow or refute

the common opinions of
the scholars of our time,

I have decided to set
aside the limited images

of the world we live
in and its design

and to speak only
of what might happen

in a new world that I
shall create for my reader

in an imaginary space.

In it, I shall take my reader by
the hand and guide him so far away

as to make him lose sight of all that
God created at the beginning of time,

five or six thousand years ago.

We shall finally stop at
a certain spot in space

and imagine that God is
creating anew all around us

so much matter that
our imagination,

wherever it turns,

cannot see a single place,

a single space that
has remained empty.

This matter of which I speak

has nothing in common with the
so-called materia prima of philosophers

which they have so effectively
divested of form and qualities

that nothing remains

but a vague conceptuaI abstraction
that is difficult to conceive of.

And since we are taking the liberty

of designing this matter
according to our imagination,

we shall take the liberty
of attributing to it a nature

in which there is nothing

stopping anyone from knowing
it with all possible perfection.

Let us suppose that God divides
this matter into many parts,

some larger, others smaller,

some with certain forms,
others with different forms,

however we wish to imagine them,

but without ever allowing
any separation between them

so as to avoid there being
any void between them.

The differences that God will
impress on these parts of nature

will consist of the different
movement he will impress upon them

so that from the first
instant of creation

they can continue to move according
to the ordinary laws of nature.

What do you mean by nature?

When I speak of nature, I
am not referring to a goddess

or any other imaginary power.

I use this term to
indicate matter itself,

as God continues to preserve it,

as he has created it.

Therefore when nature -
you have just said it -

undergoes some
changes in its parts,

do you not think that it can
be attributed to divine action?

Everything depends
on divine action.

God has established
absolutely perfect laws.

Even if we were to suppose

that in the beginning, he
had created only a chaos

more confused than that which all
the poets together might imagine,

his laws are sufficient to
direct all the parts of this chaos

so that they may arrange themselves
harmoniously in an exact order

that will have the
form of a perfect world

in which we will see
clearly not only the light,

but also all existing
things of any nature and form

that appear in this reaI
world in which we live.

In your imaginary world,
will there be planets, a sun?

Of course.

And a moon, an earth, men.

Men of our same
birth and composition,

with a souI and a body.

Of these, I will now describe
separately, first the body,

then I will describe the souI,

and finally, I will demonstrate
how these two natures

must be joined together

in order to give life
to men identicaI to us.

I shall suppose that the body
is nothing more than a statue,

a mound of dirt that
God molds expressly

in the image and according
to the design of our body.

And finally, I shall explain
that when the thinking souI

is placed by God
inside this machine

the souI will have its
main seat in the brain,

from which place it will
direct all of man's movements.

Such, gentlemen, will
be my fable of the world.

A text that, like all fables,

will have, I hope, its usefulness

because it will allow
us to better understand

this world we live in.

As I had told you, gentlemen,

this man is the only
Archimedes of our century.

He is the Atlas of the
universe, a confidant of nature,

and he will answer, I assure you,

in an admirable and amazing way,

all the questions you ask him

on the secrets and
the order of nature.

How long will you
stay with us, sir?

UntiI this evening, and I will have
time to answer all your questions.

- Good-bye.
- Good night.

Finally you are back.

He has been calling out to you all
day. He is burning up with fever.

I am ill. Help me if you can.

BoiI up a potion made
with a glass of wine,

a few Damascus grapes,
two grains of hyssop,

ten of fenneI and anise and
reduce the liquid to a third.

This is for the cough. The
fever will pass on its own.

Those three gentlemen are
waiting for you, they are French.

I shall speak to them now.

Poor Bretagne, what
shall I do without him?

Stay close to him.

I am Descartes, did you ask for me?

I am a merchant of
rare leather, sir,

my name is Antoine Poquet.

Father Mersenne begged
me to come and see you

to collect your new treatise
which you had promised -

I have not finished it, sir.

You shall tell Father Mersenne -

Tell Father Mersenne that I am
working day and night on this new text

and that soon, I hope before
Christmas, I shall send it to him.

Good day, gentlemen.

Oh, good God!

Oh, no.

You already want me to leave my bed?
- The morning hours are golden.

It is frightfuI. I do not understand
what you want with animals' entrails.

Do you not know that it is forbidden
to practice magic? It is a mortaI sin.

But I do not practice
magic, rest assured.

What, then? You are always
doing strange things.

But remember, one
sin follows another.

Why have you hired
me to work for you,

to drive me to insanity
with your messiness?

I have never seen you so angry.

Turn around, I wish to rise.

Patience pushed to the
extreme becomes anger.

This house is too small for you, you
are like a crane in a pigeon hutch.

You have filled the place with a
thousand papers and strange instruments.

A man of your stature and condition

who lives like the
last of the tramps.

Nobility cannot be
appreciated without refinement.

You complain just like
poor Bretagne used to do.

He who talks sows and he who listens
reaps. At least he should reap.

I am sorry that Bretagne is
dead and that I have lost him.

A blow of the tongue is worse
than the blow of the spear.

Bretagne was never angry,

but when you are angry,
you are certainly prettier.

I am not angry. The moon
ignores the barking dog.

But Bretagne was right
to complain about you

because to complain is
to be half comforted.

Are you philosophizing?

Philosophizing? What is philosophy?

I am a philosopher. I love wisdom.

You? You are crazy. I am wise.

That may be.

We need a bigger house than
this. You are right, H�l�ne.

That way, you will not be angry
when I devote myself to this work.

When the fox moralizes,
the chickens are in danger.

No, H�l�ne, I am serious.
We shall live in Amsterdam.

A word spoken cannot be
unspoken. Do not forget it.

A promise is an obligation.

The wiser man yields.

Do you forgive me?

The AdmiraI Potterbakker and
the AdmiraI van der Eijck,

two tulips that in today's market
are each worth 4,400 florins.

Really?

My mistress has got her
hands on a very precious bulb,

the Semper Augustus.

She paid 5,500 florins for it

but it is the most
beautifuI tulip in the world.

She could sell it immediately
for 6,000 florins or even more.

Your mistress is rich and
those with money are brave.

Have you seen it in bloom?

No, not yet, but in my
mistress's color album

it is painted so well
that it seems reaI.

The calyx is a
beautifuI, pure white,

lightly speckled
with blue at the base,

with a flame red stripe that runs
along each petaI, it is a marveI.

I will never be able to buy such
illustrations, they are too expensive.

If you had not shown them to me, I
would know very little about tulips.

I teach you, but I
know that it is useless.

You will not even risk one florin.

Those who have nothing, like
me, cannot risk anything.

You are missing your fortune
due to excessive prudence.

Our blacksmith, Jacob
Darik, you remember him,

indebted himself to the teeth
to buy the GeneraI of Generals.

If he did, it means he is sure
he will make a good profit, no?

And Mr. Gut sold his house
to buy five rare bulbs,

and he is a very savvy businessman.

Yes, but I am a chambermaid.

And the painter Jan van Goyen,

you know, for his paintings
he now only accepts as payment

tulip bulbs instead of florins.

My grandfather told me that his
father, like everyone else back then,

purchased goods and
paid with herrings.

That was a sure coin,
because it was nutritious.

But this mania over
tulips is so foolish.

Oh, you are the fooI.

Everyone is speculating, especially
the rich who know what they are doing.

In fact, the biggest
demand is from France.

May God forgive me, I
am late. I must run off.

Thank you, my dear.

By the way, how much is my
red-yellow tulip worth at the moment?

Cheer up, it is worth a lot.
Not less than 2,500 florins.

- I will open the door.
- No, your hands are greasy. I will go.

It is true that you
cannot eat a tulip,

but their beauty
nowadays has great value.

Everyone knows that a bird is
only as pretty as its plumage.

- What can I do for you?
- I am Jan Maire, the printer.

Mr. Descartes summoned me.

Come in.

Your clothes have
an unbearable odor.

The odors of my trade, the
aniline and the lead in the inks.

I am sorry. Do you feeI ill?

It is nothing.

Just a moment.

- The printer.
- Show him in.

Come in.

Good day, sir, I am here
to give you my answer.

I accept, I shall
print your treatise.

Thank you, I hope to finish
it within the next few days.

H�l�ne!
- It is your smell, I am sorry.

She needs some vinegar.

Giving advice is
easier than acting.

- Jan, Jan
- Sir.

Go fetch Dr. Plempius.

Hurry.
- Of course.

- I examined the patient.
- What did you find?

The patient is well,
very well, in fact.

What do you mean? How do
you explain the fainting?

I do not know whether you will
find the news to be good or bad,

but the patient does
not have a disease.

- I do not understand.
- She is with child.

- A child?
- Yes, a child.

H�l�ne.

You must not be ashamed.

This is the most wonderfuI gift
you could ever have given me.

Do not be afraid.

I shall never abandon you.

Once the damage is done, the
madman comes to his senses.

- Rest now.
- Thank you.

Tranquility comes with sleep.

Come. Come to my study.

Thank you for coming
right away, Doctor.

And most of all, for the lovely
news that I am going to be a father.

Jan, some wine.

A child, my dear Doctor,
merits a good glass of wine.

Do me the honor.

- Will you recognize the child?
- Certainly.

Though I wish for it to be
a secret, for the time being.

Not out of shame,

but only because, as you know,

I fear anything that might
disturb my tranquility.

Will you keep the mother with you?

I shall write my friend
Reneri in Deventer

and ask him to find
a discreet shelter,

so that H�l�ne can spend the
intervening months in peace.

If she needs attention in the next
few days, I will be at your disposaI.

I would trust no one else.

I greatly admire your
ability as a doctor,

though I confess that I do not
share your criticism of Dr. Harvey.

Why not? Could not Dr.
Harvey be in the wrong?

Forgive me, but I
really cannot believe

that your knowledge
of human physiology

has not convinced you of
the evidence of his theory.

A circulation of blood
powered by pulsations

would lead us to believe
that at every pulsation

the heart receives a drop of blood.

But considering that in one hour there
are approximately 2,000 pulsations,

in such a short amount of time
there should pass through the heart

an incredible amount of blood.

The difficulty is insurmountable,

though I must admit that
Harvey's hypothesis is striking.

We shall discuss this more,

but if theory separates
us, friendship joins us.

- Cheers.
- Cheers.

Mr. Descartes.

Dear Descartes.

Illustrious friend.

I have come to return
the treatise by Golius.

It is always a pleasure to see you,

but you could have sent it with your
servant without troubling yourself.

It is always a pleasure to
walk the streets of your town.

One meets only people
intent on their work

as if they were fulfilling the
gravest of duties before God.

Even those who are very rich

and could live off their
interest often choose to work.

The Spanish, Italian and French
lords of the thirteenth century,

a mere 300 years ago,

were at the same time captains,
landowners, administrators

and sometimes men of letters.

They did not in fact know
any of these things very well,

and if they lived off
the fat of the land

it was because they enjoyed the
fruits of the labors of others,

the farmers, the artisans,

the only ones faithfuI to their
profession out of necessity.

A century ago, the humanists,
who knew the ancient languages,

felt entitled to
speak of everything:

Of astronomy,
architecture, medicine.

Not to mention the
scholastic philosophers,

who applied Aristotle's principles
to any scientific problem,

with the sole result of
exciting man's presumption.

Our people is far from all that.

Our book is the Bible. Our
teacher is Calvin. Listen.

Calvin's heresy is unacceptable.

Listen to what he wrote 100 years ago,
even if you consider him a heretic,

and I assure you that
you will understand.

"God commands each man
to follow his vocation

through his life's work.

But man, alas, by his nature,
burns with restlessness

and often due to frivolity,
ambition and greed

he is tempted to
forsake his vocation

and to embrace different
works that confuse him.

This is how the folly
of this world is born.

For fear that our recklessness
might drag us away from him,

God allowed the collapse,
the end of the states,

of the customs of
past historicaI times.

And so that we would
not be completely lost,

he established for each
of us what we should do.

Without venturing even slightly
beyond our individuaI limits,

each man must live his vocation
by humbly obeying his nature,

remembering that he
lives in misery and in sin

and nothing can exist
without the light of God. "

It is true, these are wise words.

They have educated a people.

I faithfully adhere to my vocation.

But you burn with restlessness and
have such a thirst for knowledge

that you embrace many
different works at one time.

There is no dispersion in my work.

All the parts of my book that
seem to treat different subjects

are, on the contrary,
closely connected.

All of philosophy is like a tree

the roots of which are
represented by metaphysics,

the trunk is physics

and the branches are
all the other sciences,

which can be reduced to
three principle doctrines,

which are medicine, mechanics
and moraI philosophy.

And I refer to the highest and
most perfect moraI philosophy,

which, presupposing a complete
knowledge of the other sciences,

is the highest degree of wisdom.

When will you publish it?

Before Christmas.

You have an acute and clear mind,

but I do not know how you would fare
with the authorities of the Roman Church

if, God forbid, they
should investigate you.

Your theories are a curious mix.

I faiI to see why the Roman
Church should investigate me.

My writings never address
anything related to theology.

Perhaps that is what
GaliIeo GaliIei thought,

but he was mistaken,
at least about that.

Your treatise will certainly arouse
the interest of the Roman theologians,

but you have nothing to fear.

Here you are far from Rome.

The first three chapters.

I have a few more
corrections to make.

It will be the most
important work of the century,

on a leveI with the work of
Bacon, Copernicus and GaliIeo.

It will be different
from their work

because many of my
hypotheses are completely new,

mostly in regards to the
structure of the universe.

Will you say something about
the movements of the heavens?

I do not know yet.

I do have an originaI hypothesis
on this subject, however.

The ancients always thought

that the earth was the
center of the universe.

Ptolemy taught this hypothesis,

but it was revealed to be
false after the observations

made in the last few
centuries by the astronomers.

Then there is the
hypothesis by Copernicus.

He believes that the earth and
planets revolve around the sun.

The third hypothesis is
that of the Danish Brahe,

who says that around an immobile
earth revolve the moon and the sun,

and around the sun revolve
the planets and the comets.

With my hypothesis, I will
deny the movement of the earth

with greater care than Copernicus
and greater truth than Brahe.

I will explain that the
matter of the heavens is fluid,

like the matter of which the
sun and the fixed stars are made,

that the heavens as they move
transport the bodies they contain.

The earth, therefore, is
surrounded on all sides,

by a highly fluid sky in which it
rests with no propensity for movement.

It is carried by
its celestiaI sphere

like a ship is carried by the ebb
and flow of the water in the sea.

And since the other
planets resemble the earth,

there is reason to believe
that they too rest, motionless,

within the spheres
that contain them.

When will you give me
the finished manuscript?

I hope very soon, I am
working on it day and night.

The wind is biting today.

What delicacies are you preparing?

Cabbage with pork.

Oh, good. Do you like it?

Yes, but fat cooking makes
for a lean will and testament.

Dr. Hogeland, I am ever
gratefuI for your hospitality,

but I will be even more so if you would
read me this letter from Mr. Descartes.

I cannot read.

You know how it is, seeing
without understanding

is like coming back from the
hunt with an empty game-bag.

"Dear H�l�ne, I congratulate
you for your good health

and I pray that you keep
it untiI your confinement.

As for me, I have not been
ill in 30 years, thank God,

and I feeI farther from death now

than I was in my youth.

You will be pleased to know
that in the past few days

I occupied myself with obtaining
from the judges of this city

a pardon for Joakin, the peasant
wrongly accused of murder.

I did this as an act of
kindness, mostly for his family. "

A good conscience makes
for a comfortable pillow.

"In our lifetimes,
we must practice,

of Christ's teachings, first
and foremost the rule of love,

which is the only sentiment that can bring
happiness to man's journey on this earth.

I am afraid that I shall not visit
you next month as I had promised,

but rest assured that
you are not forgotten. "

Words fly and children remain.

Shall I go on?

Yes.

"Send me your news by means
of Dr. Hogeland's messenger,

whom you must thank on my behalf
for the hospitality he grants you.

Ren� Descartes. "

He who promises much
rarely keeps his word.

Thank you, Doctor.

- When did it arrive?
- This morning, sir.

It is from Father Mersenne.

Jan, my clothes.

I shall publish everything.

I cannot give up on publishing a treatise
I have worked on for so many years.

It was almost finished.

I had just to correct and copy it,

but if GaliIeo, an Italian
admired by the Pope, was condemned,

I do not feeI that I can go on.

Perhaps you are exaggerating.
You could publish it later on.

In his letter, Father
Mersenne was very clear

and I think he is right.

But Holland is so far from Rome.

I have already told you.

I do not want to risk contradicting
or upsetting the Church.

I am almost tempted
to burn all my papers.

I certainly will not
show them to anyone.

My work is so closely connected

to the hypothesis of the movement of
the skies that it cannot be corrected,

even if I wanted to.

In that case, I cannot blame you.

Wait.

Here, listen to what a disciple
of our GaliIeo has written to me.

"After a long triaI
and endless insults,

he was relegated to
the city of Siena,

from which he cannot
stray without permission.

His writings have all been banned

because he professed as true
the false theory taught by some

that the sun is the center
of the immobile world

and that the earth has
a diuturnaI movement,

and further that he
taught this same theory

and published it through
letters and writings. "

After all, I never really
wanted to write books.

If I had not yielded to the insistence of
a few friends, I would never have written.

I seek only peace and
spirituaI tranquility.

There are already so many opinions
in philosophy, apparently solid ones,

that can be debated
in our disputes.

And if mine are not
more solid than those,

and cannot be approved
without controversy,

I shall never consent
to publish them.

You are a little too prudent.

Do you know that in France there
are those who defended GaliIeo?

I know. Even the good monk
Mersenne is among his defenders,

but even he counseled
me to be prudent.

I shall never do
what I should not do.

One must know how to tame
one's excitement, one's desire.

I shall wait, because that
which appears impossible today,

might be possible tomorrow.

Francine, I baptize you

in the name of the Father,

of the Son

and of the Holy Ghost.

Amen.

The father,

the witnesses.

Will I be able to come
back to live with you now?

Not yet, H�l�ne, not yet.

You do not want us, then.

Do not say that. The
child is very pretty.

I shall write you. I
shall never abandon you.

Are you certain that
he left Amsterdam?

His servant informed me that he
would be here in Utrecht today.

Mr. Descartes is here.

Here he is. Show him in.

Mr. Ren� Descartes has arrived.

Cartesius.

My dear, dear Descartes, here
you are finally in Utrecht.

Madam, I am flattered
by such a reception.

We were expecting you.

I spent 15 days in Amsterdam.

In this salon where Madam
Anna Maria van Schurman

often receives the most famous
scholars in the Netherlands,

we felt your absence keenly.

You are embarrassing
me, dear friend.

They tell us that you are preparing with
your printer the issue of a new work.

We were very sorry to hear

that you gave up on printing your
treatise on the world out of fear -

You are wrong. It
was not out of fear.

It was out of respect for
authority and out of prudence.

A just prudence.

These friends are
here to listen to you.

My new work will incorporate ideas and
materiaI from my treatise on the world.

Gentlemen, I have written a
proposaI for a universaI science

that can raise nature to its
highest leveI of perfection.

You are telling us too
little, my dear Ren�,

you have told me so much about
your progress in metaphysics.

Are you afraid to speak of it?

Have you written a
book on metaphysics?

Do you renounce your
mathematicaI method?

Rest assured,

I intend to demonstrate the truths
explained up to now by metaphysics

by other means.

It would be uninspired, after conceiving
a method for the right use of the mind,

not to use it

to demonstrate the
foundations of creation

and of the spirit of
that which surrounds us,

beyond the theses
of the scholastics,

without conceding anything
to their arguments.

Here is one of my
new constructions.

We all know that sometimes
the senses fooI us.

I suppose, then, that
none of what we see

is as the senses make it appear.

But by doubting everything it
immediately appears clear to me

that I think, and if I
think, I must be something.

I think,

therefore I am, therefore I exist.

This certainty of existing
comes from within myself.

I am a substance whose naturaI
essence consists of thinking.

Totally independent
of any materiaI thing.

Well, this "I" to which I refer

is the souI, thanks to
which, I am what I am.

I have also verified

that none of the
things that exist -

the earth, the light, color -

appear superior to me,
more perfect than I.

But who placed within me the idea
of a being more perfect than mine?

I asked myself.

Certainly a nature
more perfect than mine,

capable of conceiving of
the idea of perfection,

which is to say a supernaturaI
being that is absolutely perfect,

which I indicate with
a single word: God.

In my treatise, I also prove,

with absolute clarity,

the existence in me and in the
world of a thinking substance

distinct from the corporeaI,

but which of these two
is the nature of God?

I shall prove that God

can certainly not be a
composite of two substances:

the corporeaI and the thinking,

because the mixture would
be a sign of imperfection.

Dear Ren�.

You speak of the existence of the
souI and of God in a very unusuaI way.

You have moved me.

Your design is very
bold and terribly shrewd.

But your division of reality
into corporeaI substance

and thinking substance
will raise many objections.

I shall answer them all.

Meanwhile, I must publish my
treatise as soon as possible.

I will worry about
the objections later.

Madam.

Come here, be a good girI.

I put in bread, butter,
cheese, candied fruit

and four pairs of stockings
that I made for you.

He who possesses a treasure
and does not know it

is poorer that he who has nothing.

When will you arrive in Leiden?

In two days. I have a good horse.

Your stay with us was too short.

I have duties to fulfill.
I have no other choice.

A pot of gold is
not worth a hearth.

You cannot understand.

I speak for your
daughter, not for me.

H�l�ne, I hope the day will come

when I shall be able to live
with you and Francine, my family,

as all men do.

Every day I pray God for this.

Mr. Descartes, your servant
has prepared the horses.

You should come to
Deventer more often.

I know.

I thank you for what
you do for H�l�ne.

I shall return soon.

She is a beautifuI creature,
because she is perfect.

To me she is like a miracle.

She is not a miracle. She is
a perfect machine of nature.

Her eyes, her pupils -

- I am leaving.
- May God bless you.

Say good-bye. Say
good-bye to Papa.

Come on, say good-bye.

But you mentioned a
different title to me:

Project for a Universal Science.

In Paris and elsewhere the scholastics
are calling every novelty a heresy.

A good monk has advised
me to be prudent.

It must have been your friend
Father Mersenne, once again.

He must be a very prudent man.

I shall immediately start setting
the Discourse on the Method.

It will be ready soon, very soon.

Tomorrow I will bring the dedication
you will print on the first three copies.

The first will be dedicated to the
Prince of Orange, king of this country,

the second to Louis
XIII, King of France,

and the third to his prime
minister, CardinaI Richelieu.

Gentlemen.

Thank you for coming.

I admire you very
much, my dear Ren�.

Will you escort me to my home
at the end of the dispute?

I will not be able to, madam.

I must leave
immediately for Samfort.

Are you going to see
your daughter, Francine?

Yes, I am going back to her.

Go, they are waiting for you.

The objections to your
treatise are numerous.

Well then, let us hear
your objections, gentlemen.

You have said that you can
be certain of one thing only:

That you are a thinking being.

But you have not yet
told us what you mean

by thinking being.

How can you know that
what thinks is not a body

that with different
and secret movements

produces the action that we
designate with the name of thought?

You say, "I am a being that
thinks, I think, I am thinking,

therefore I exist,

therefore I am a spirit, a
souI, an intellect, a reason. "

In my opinion, the
deduction is not exact.

It is as if I were to say,
"I am a thinking being.

Therefore, I am a thought. "

Or, "I am intelligent.
Therefore I am an intellect. "

It would be akin to saying,
"I am a walking being.

Therefore I am a walk. "

We cannot conceive of any
act without its subject.

Thought without
something that thinks,

knowledge without
something that knows,

and a walk without
something that walks.

I believe I can deduct from this

that something that is thought
is also a corporeaI thing.

You maintain that the
idea of a sovereign being

cannot be born of itself,

but that it must have been infused in
you and in all men from the outside.

But do you really think that this idea
would have been born in your spirit

if you had spent your
entire life in a desert

and not in the company of scholars?

The Canadians, the Huron Indians
and other savages have no such idea.

The idea of God that you have

is not by nature different

from the idea of a number or
a line that you call infinite.

We cannot find a single
word in your writings

that refers to the
immortality of the human souI,

which, in my opinion, you should
not have neglected to demonstrate

to confound all those who
are unworthy of immortality

because they deny it,
perhaps because they fear it.

Mr. Descartes, you have created
a subtle logicaI construct,

a perfect mechanics of reason,

without ever referring to feelings,
passions, to the heart of man.

You have never cited the Bible,

and in writing about God, you have
never noted that his nature is a mystery,

from which derives the
necessity of faith for us.

By its nature, faith is
an impulse of the souI

that resides beyond
reason and illuminates it.

With your writing,
on the other hand,

you have shown that there is
nothing, outside of reason,

that is capable of
guiding man to the truth.

Gentlemen,

I have listened with great
satisfaction to your objections,

because they have shown me
the benevolence you have for me

and your piety towards God.

Therefore I can only rejoice,

not only because you
have judged my thoughts

to be worthy of your censure,

but also because
you have said nothing

against them that I cannot answer
with great ease, it seems to me.

Of the things that
pertain to the spirit,

untiI now, we have
had nothing but ideas.

Confused ideas,

mixed with the ideas that come
to us from the sensible world.

This has been the
first and main reason

that has kept us from
understanding clearly

all that is understandable
about God and the souI.

And I think I will be
performing quite a feat

if I show you first of all

in what way we must
distinguish the properties,

the qualities of the spirit
from those of the body

and how they can be recognized.

Gentlemen, this will
be no small enterprise.

Do you have the galleys
of the dedication?

Here they are.

Mr. Descartes would never forgive us
if we left any typos in his new book:

Meditations on First Philosophy.

Mr. Descartes is very attentive

to spelling and even punctuation.

Will he not return to
Paris to finish his work?

No, he will remain
in the Netherlands.

"To the dean and doctors of the
sacred faculty of theology of Paris. "

Mr. Descartes is very prudent.

Certainly.

As only a scholar can be.

But ever since I have known him

he has always said and written
sincerely everything he thinks.

He has written about
geometry and mathematics,

optics and physiology,

to seek a new way of philosophizing

in which no proposition is admitted

that does not have absolute
mathematicaI evidence.

From his childhood, he has
used this method of research.

"Gentlemen, however much
force my reasoning may have,

I cannot hope that they will
have a great effect on the spirits

unless you take them
under your protection.

And I do not doubt that you will
take such attentive care of this text

that you will first
of all correct it.

And then, the reasons by means of
which I will prove that there is a God

and that the human souI
differs from the body

will be taken to the extreme
point of clarity and evidence.

I hope that you will declare all
this and give public testimonials.

The truth will cause

all scholars and men of ingenuity
to subscribe to your judgment. "

"With the name of God

I refer to an infinite substance

by which I myself and all other
things were created and produced

and I could not have the
idea of an infinite substance,

I who am finite,

if it had not been planted in me

by a truly infinite substance. "

- Mr. Huygens has arrived.
- Show him in.

- Ren�!
- Constantijn.

Do you see?

Praise, objections, accusations.

This is success.

But together with success,

God has given me
the greatest sorrows.

My father has died in France,

and no one told me for
fear of disturbing me,

so my brother writes me.

And...

also Francine has died.

The light of my eyes,

for whom I had come to live in
this house together with H�l�ne.

I had lived little, too
little with Francine.

Science has prevented
me from living.

We each have our vocation and
must live by it faithfully.

Everything we have comes from God.

It is his mercy.

Yes.

Of course I shall continue
to live and to think

but now I shall close my eyes.

I shall close my ears.

I shall extinguish my senses.

I wish to erase from my thoughts
all images of corporeaI things

and to spend time only,

only with myself,

and to live closed within my heart.

And perhaps,

searching within myself

I will succeed little by little
in calming the pain of these days.

I will prove to myself that
a being, a souI that thinks,

also doubts, affirms, negates,

knows few things and
is ignorant of many,

loves, hates,

wants, stops wanting,

remembers, imagines, feels.

I shall try, through my
pain, to extend my knowledge,

I shall carefully consider whether
I can still discover within myself

some other being that I have
not up to this moment perceived.

I have the certainty of
being a reality that thinks,

but whence does
this certainty come?

THE END