## 1. The Place of Ethics in Descartes' Philosophy



Descartes did not write extensively on ethics, and this has led some
to assume that the topic lacks a place within his philosophy. This
assumption has been bolstered by the tendency, prevalent until
recently, to base an understanding of Descartes' philosophy
primarily on his two most famous books, *Discourse on the
Method* and *Meditations on First Philosophy*. Although
both works offer insight into Descartes' ethics, neither
presents his position in detail. (For comprehensive treatments of
Descartes' ethical thought, see Kambouchner 2009; Marshall 1998;
Morgan 1994; Rodis-Lewis 1970.)



Descartes' writings reveal a consistent conception of
philosophy's goal. In the first rule of the unfinished *Rules
for the Direction of the Mind*, he states: "The aim of our
studies should be to direct the mind with a view to forming true and
sound judgements about whatever comes before it" (AT X 359/CSM I
9). The principal goal of philosophy is to cultivate one's
capacity for sound judgment, which Descartes identifies with
"good sense" (*le bons sens*) and "universal
wisdom." This goal should be pursued for its own sake, since
other ends may distract us from the course of inquiry. Nevertheless,
Descartes insists upon the practical benefits of the wisdom thereby
achieved: one should consider "how to increase the natural light
of his reason... in order that his intellect should show his will
what decision it ought to make in each of life's
contingencies" (AT X 361/CSM I 10). In this way, we can expect
to realize the "legitimate fruits" of the sciences:
"the comforts of life" and "the pleasure to be
gained from contemplating the truth, which is practically the only
happiness in this life that is complete and untroubled by pain"
(ibid.).



The last point previews one of the principal concerns of
Descartes' ethics. In agreement with the ancients, he takes
philosophy's practical goal to be the realization of a happy
life: one in which we enjoy the best existence that a human being can
hope to achieve. Descartes characterizes this life in terms of a type
of mental contentment, or tranquility, that is experienced by the
person with a well-ordered mind. Here the influence of Stoic and
Epicurean writers is evident (Cottingham 1998; Gueroult 1985; Pereboom
1994; Rutherford 2014). In keeping with a central theme of Hellenistic
ethics, Descartes likens philosophy to a form of therapy that can
treat the mind's illnesses (those that stand in the way of its
happiness), just as medicine treats the illnesses of the body. As he
writes in one of his earliest recorded remarks, "I use the term
'vice' to refer to the diseases of the mind, which are not
so easy to recognize as diseases of the body. This is because we have
frequently experienced sound bodily health, but have never known true
health of the mind" (AT X 215/CSM I 3). Philosophy is thus
charged with leading us to "true health of the mind,"
which it does through the cultivation of "true and sound
judgment." It is significant that Descartes--again in
agreement with the ancients--focuses his efforts on the happiness
that can be realized within the natural life of a human being. He is
careful to note that it is a dogma of faith that "the supreme
happiness," consisting "solely in the contemplation of the
divine majesty" and attainable only through divine grace, is
reserved for the "next life" (AT VII 52/CSM II 36).
However, in contrast to the position defended by Aquinas and Roman
Catholic theology, the consideration of this "supernatural
bliss" (*beatitude surnaturelle*) plays no role in
Descartes' system. On the contrary, he emphasizes that genuine
happiness is attainable within this life, in spite of the trials we
face. "One of the main points of my own ethical code," he
tells Mersenne, "is to love life without fearing death"
(AT II 480-1/CSMK 131). The key to developing this affirmative
attitude toward life is the cultivation of reason: "True
philosophy... teaches that even amidst the saddest disasters and
most bitter pains we can always be content, provided that we know how
to use our reason" (AT IV 314/CSMK 272).



Descartes' estimation of the importance of ethics is expressed
most clearly in the programmatic statement that prefaces the French
translation of the *Principles of Philosophy* (1647). Here he
presents his conception of philosophy in strikingly traditional terms:
"the word 'philosophy' means the study of wisdom,
and by 'wisdom' is meant not only prudence in our everyday
affairs but also a perfect knowledge of all things that mankind is
capable of knowing, both for the conduct of life and for the
preservation of health and the discovery of all manner of
skills" (AT IXB 2/CSM I 179). The key to the attainment of this
wisdom, Descartes argues, is the recognition of the essential order
among the different parts of our knowledge, an order he depicts in his
image of the "tree of philosophy": "The roots are
metaphysics, the trunk is physics, and the branches emerging from the
trunk are all the other sciences, which may be reduced to three
principal ones, namely medicine, mechanics and morals" (AT IXB
14/CSM I 186). Within this scheme, metaphysics is foundational, but
this knowledge and the knowledge of physics that is built upon it are
sought for the sake of the practical benefits that follow from the
sciences of medicine, mechanics and morals: "just as it is not
the roots or the trunk of a tree from which one gathers the fruit, but
only the ends of the branches, so the principal benefit of philosophy
depends on those parts of it which can only be learned last of
all" (AT IXB 15/CSM I 186). Foremost among these sciences is
*la morale*: "the highest and most perfect moral system,
which presupposes a complete knowledge of the other sciences and is
the ultimate level of wisdom" (ibid.). It is for the sake of
this science above all that Descartes hopes his readers will
"realize how important it is to continue the search for these
truths, and to what a high degree of wisdom, and to what perfection
and felicity of life, these truths can bring us" (AT IXB 20/CSM
I 190).



While it is clear that Descartes accords a privileged place to the
science he calls *la morale*, the fact remains that he left no
systematic presentation of his ethical views. He offers several
explanations for why he has not devoted more attention to ethics.
Given his conception of the order of knowledge, conclusions in ethics
must be established in a way that reveals their dependence on the
prior conclusions of metaphysics and physics. Thus, the systematic
investigation of ethics can begin only after certainty has been
achieved in these prior theoretical disciplines. In a late letter to
Chanut, Descartes cites two further reasons for his silence on the
topic: "It is true that normally I refuse to write down my
thoughts concerning morality. I have two reasons for this. One is that
there is no other subject in which malicious people can so readily
find pretexts for vilifying me; and the other is that I believe only
sovereigns, or those authorized by them, have the right to concern
themselves with regulating the morals of other people" (AT V
86-7/CSMK 326). The first of these reasons reflects
Descartes' inherent caution, reinforced by the hostile reception
his philosophy had received at the University of Utrecht (Gaukroger
1995; Verbeek 1992). The second points to an important limitation in
Descartes' conception of ethics: he does not enunciate a
specific set of obligations, because these, he believes, are the
purview of the sovereign. This again may make it seem that Descartes
rejects a substantial role for philosophy in ethics, and that he
offers in its place a Hobbesian account of the authority of moral
dictates grounded in a sovereign will. There is an element of truth in
this suggestion, but uncovering it requires drawing a crucial
distinction: if Descartes limits the role of philosophy in determining
specific moral rules, he nonetheless upholds the ancients'
conception of philosophy as the search for a wisdom sufficient for
happiness. It is in this sense that ethics remains central to
Descartes' philosophy.


## 2. The Provisional Moral Code of the *Discourse*



The best-known expression of Descartes' ethical views is the
"provisional moral code" (*une morale par
provision*) that appears in Part Three of *Discourse on the
Method*. Some have read this as a reliable statement of
Descartes' considered position, but this is consistent neither
with the content of the *Discourse* itself nor with that of his
later writings. (For detailed discussions of the "provisional
morality," see Carraud 1997; Cimakasky and Polansky 2012;
Marshall 1998, 2003.)



Descartes frames the rules of his provisional morality as part of the
epistemological project--the search for certainty--announced
in Part Two of the *Discourse*. In order that he may act
decisively and live as happily as possible while avoiding
"precipitate conclusions and assumptions," Descartes
proposes "a provisional moral code consisting of just three or
four maxims":



> 
> The first was to obey the laws and customs of my country, holding
> constantly to the religion in which by God's grace I had been
> instructed from my childhood.... The second maxim was to be as
> firm and decisive in my actions as I could, and to follow even the
> most doubtful opinions, once I had adopted them, with no less
> constancy than if they had been quite certain.... My third maxim
> was to try always to master myself rather than fortune, and to change
> my desires rather than the order of the world.... Finally, to
> conclude this moral code... I thought I could do no better than
> to continue with the [occupation] I was engaged in, and to devote my
> whole life to cultivating my reason and advancing as far as I could in
> the knowledge of the truth, following the method I had prescribed for
> myself (AT VI 22-7/CSM I 122-4).
> 



Descartes' apparent uncertainty about the number of rules in his
provisional code ("three or four") is noteworthy and may
be explained by the different status he assigns to the rules. While
the first three prescribe how to act in the absence of any certain
knowledge of good and evil (including the much-criticized deference to
the laws and customs of his country), the fourth rule holds out the
possibility of cultivating his reason so as to arrive at knowledge of
the truth. Echoing his remarks in the *Rules*, he says that in
the discovery of such truths he has experienced "such extreme
contentment that I did not think one could enjoy any sweeter or purer
one in this life" (AT VI 27/CSM I 124). This might be read as
limiting our happiness to the contemplation of intellectual truths of
the sort announced in Part Four of the *Discourse*; however,
Descartes makes it clear that he sees the search for truth as having a
practical import as well. By following the method he has prescribed
for himself and exercising his capacity for judgment, he is confident
of acquiring all the true knowledge of which he is capable, and
"in this way all the true goods within my reach" (AT VI
28/CSM I 125).



It is evident, then, that the first three maxims of the
"provisional moral code" are just that--provisional
rules that Descartes will follow while he carries out his search for
certain knowledge--and that he is confident that this search will
terminate in knowledge of "true goods" that will supply
reliable directives for action. Descartes hints at the range of these
goods in Part Five of the *Discourse*. They include the
maintenance of health, "which is undoubtedly the first good
[*le premier bien*] and the foundation of all the other goods
in this life." Because "the mind depends so much on the
temperament and disposition of the bodily organs," Descartes
adds, we must look to medicine if we are "to find some means of
making men in general wiser and more skilful than they have been up
till now" (AT VI 62/CSM I 143). The extent of Descartes'
commitment to the integration of physical and psychological health
will become apparent in the *Passions of the Soul*. It would be
a mistake, however, to conclude from this that he proposes a reduction
of ethics to medicine. As presented already in the *Discourse*,
his ethics is founded on an ideal of virtue as a perfected power of
judgment, together with the assumption that virtue by itself is
sufficient for happiness:



> 
> [S]ince our will tends to pursue or avoid only what our intellect
> represents as good or bad, we need only to judge well in order to act
> well, and to judge as well as we can in order to do our
> best--that is to say, in order to acquire all the virtues and in
> general all the other goods we can acquire. And when we are certain of
> this, we cannot fail to be happy. (AT VI 28/CSM I 125)
> 



Anticipated in this passage are the core ideas of Descartes'
ethics: the notion of *virtue*, as a disposition of the will to
judge in accordance with reason's representations of the good,
and the notion of *happiness*, as a state of mental well-being
that is achieved through the practice of virtue. In his correspondence
with Princess Elisabeth, Descartes will elaborate on the relationship
between these two ideas. Here is it worth noting that while it is
virtue that links ethics to the broader goal of the cultivation of
reason, Descartes gives no less weight to the importance of happiness,
in the form of tranquility. This is made clear near the end of the
*Discourse*, when he explains why, in spite of his
reservations, he has published the book under his own name: "I
am not excessively fond of glory--indeed if I dare to say so, I
dislike it in so far as I regard it as opposed to that tranquility
which I value above everything else.... [I]f I had done this [sc.
concealed his identity] I thought I would do myself an injustice, and
moreover that would have given me a certain sort of disquiet, which
again would have been opposed to the perfect peace of mind I am
seeking" (AT VI 74/CSM I 149).


## 3. The *Meditations* and the Ethics of Belief



The *Meditations* is distinguished from Descartes' other
works in explicitly foreswearing practical concerns. The conceit of
the *Meditations* is a thinker who has abstracted himself from
any connection to the external world. For this reason, Descartes feels
confident in pursuing the method of hyperbolic doubt, which rejects as
false any opinion concerning which the slightest doubt can be raised:
"I know that no danger or error will result from my plan, and
that I cannot possibly go too far in my distrustful attitude. This is
because the task now in hand does not involve action but merely the
acquisition of knowledge" (AT VII 22/CSM II 15).



On these grounds, one might feel justified in setting aside the
*Meditations* in an examination of Descartes' ethics. In
fact, though, the *Meditations* pursues, in a theoretical
context, an inquiry that is closely related to ethics: the proper
disposition of the will. (For readings of the *Meditations* as
supporting the development of virtue, see Naaman-Zauderer 2010;
Shapiro 2005, 2013.)



Descartes takes the operation of the will to be integral to both
belief and action. In general, the will, or "freedom of
choice," consists "in our ability to do or not do
something (that is, to affirm or deny, to pursue or avoid); or rather,
it consists simply in the fact that when the intellect puts something
forward for affirmation or denial or for pursuit or avoidance, our
inclinations are such that we do not feel we are determined by any
external force" (AT VII 57/CSM II 40). For Descartes, freedom is
an essential property of the will; however, this freedom does not
entail indifference: "if I always saw clearly what was true and
good, I should never have to deliberate about the right judgement or
choice; in that case, although I should be wholly free, it would be
impossible for me ever to be in a state of indifference" (AT VII
58/CSM II 40). We are indifferent only when our perception of the
true, or of the good, is less than clear and distinct.



Descartes assigns the will a pivotal role in the pursuit of knowledge.
When presented with a clear and distinct perception of what is true,
the will is compelled to assent to it. When the perception is less
than fully clear and distinct, the will is not compelled in the same
way. In such cases, it has the power either to assent or to withhold
assent. Given this, the correct use of free will is identified as the
critical factor in the attainment of knowledge: "If... I
simply refrain from making a judgment in cases where I do not perceive
the truth with sufficient clarity and distinctness, then it is clear
that I am behaving correctly and avoiding error. But if in such cases,
I either affirm or deny, then I not using my free will
correctly" (AT VII 59-60/CSM II 41). Provided we refrain
from assenting to what is not clearly and distinctly perceived, our
judgments are guaranteed to be true.



In the Fourth Meditation, Descartes draws a close parallel between the
will's relation to the true and to the good. Just as the will is
compelled to assent to what is clearly and distinctly perceived to be
true, so it is compelled to choose what is clearly and distinctly
perceived to be good: "if I always saw clearly what was true and
good, I should never have to deliberate about the right judgement or
choice" (AT VII 58/CSM II 40). And analogously, we might
suppose, just as the recipe for avoiding error is to withhold assent
from that whose truth is not perceived clearly and distinctly, so the
recipe for avoiding moral error, or sin, is to refuse to choose that
whose goodness is not perceived clearly and distinctly. In his
objections to the *Meditations*, Arnauld cautioned Descartes on
this point, suggesting that the comments he makes "on the cause
of error would give rise to the most serious objections if they were
stretched out of context to cover the pursuit of good and evil"
(AT VII 215/CSM II 151). Heeding Arnauld's warning, Descartes
added a disclaimer to the Synopsis of the *Meditations*:
"But here it should be noted in passing that I do not deal at
all with sin, i.e. the error which is committed in pursuing good and
evil, but only with the error that occurs in distinguishing truth and
falsehood" (AT VII 15/CSM II 11). This assertion flatly
contradicts the text of the Fourth Meditation, where Descartes had
written that, where the will is indifferent, "it easily turns
aside from what is true and good, and this is the source of my error
and sin" (AT VII 58/CSM II 40-1). In light of this, and
Descartes' insistence to Mersenne that the disclaimer be placed
in parentheses to indicate that it had been added, there is reason to
see Descartes as upholding the same account of the will in relation to
the true and the good.



There is nonetheless one important way in which the operation of the
will in a purely theoretical context (such as the
*Meditations*) must be distinguished from its operation in
practical contexts. In the pursuit of certainty, Descartes claims that
it is both possible and reasonable to withhold assent from any idea
that is not perceived clearly and distinctly. Outside the isolated
confines of the *Meditations*, however, it is impossible to
maintain such an attitude of detachment. Life demands that we act, by
choosing among competing goods on the basis of ideas that are often
less than clear and distinct. When faced with the exigencies of
existence, suspension of choice is not an option. Since we are forced
to act under conditions of uncertainty, it might seem to follow that
we are condemned to a life of moral error, constantly making wrong
choices on the basis of inadequate perceptions of the goodness and
badness of objects. This may be the ordinary lot of human beings;
however, Descartes does not believe that this condition is
irremediable. In his later writings he presents an account of virtue
that shows how we can improve our ability to make right choices, or to
act virtuously, despite the inadequacy of much of our knowledge.


## 4. Virtue and Happiness: The Correspondence with Princess Elisabeth



Descartes' correspondence with Princess Elisabeth has as its
central topic the relation of mind and body--a relation that is
explored from the point of view of both theory (the problem of
mind-body union) and practice (see Shapiro 2007 for a full account of
the correspondence). With regard to practice, Descartes is again
concerned with the connection between physical and mental well-being,
and in particular the deleterious effects of passions such as sadness,
grief, fear and melancholy. He discusses these topics in the course of
advising Elisabeth on how to cope with her own illness and distress.
The question, however, is an ancient one: when faced with the
hardships of life--physical illness, loss, anxiety--how can
one respond in a way that allows one to preserve the tranquility that
is the core of our happiness?



Descartes' abiding interest in medicine is prominent here, since
the treatment of physical illness is an effective way of removing one
of main sources of mental disturbance. Yet he is well aware of the
limits of medical knowledge, and so he acknowledges that the passions
also must be confronted directly: "They are domestic enemies
with whom we are forced to keep company, and we have to be perpetually
on guard lest they injure us" (AT IV 218/CSMK 249). Descartes
prescribes to Elisabeth a two-part remedy for protecting herself
against the harmful effects of the passions: "so far as possible
to distract our imagination and senses from them, and when obliged by
prudence to consider them, to do so with our intellect alone"
(ibid.). The first part of the remedy relies on our ability to direct
the imagination away from the immediate objects of the passions. Given
this power, Descartes argues, "there might be a person who had
countless genuine reasons for distress but who took such pains to
direct his imagination that he never thought of them except when
compelled by some practical nececessity, and who spent the rest of his
time in the consideration of objects which could furnish contentment
and joy" (AT IV 219/CSMK 250). Descartes speculates that this
kind of cognitive therapy by itself might be sufficient to restore the
patient to health. In circumventing the causal pathway by which the
passion arises, the body will be returned to a healthy state.
Descartes offers his own history as an example of this phenomenon:
"From [my mother] I inherited a dry cough and a pale colour
which stayed with me until I was more than twenty, so that all the
doctors who saw me up to that time gave it as their verdict that I
would die young. But I have always had an inclination to look at
things from the most favorable angle and to make my principal
happiness depend upon myself alone, and I believe that this
inclination caused the indisposition, which was almost part of my
nature, gradually to disappear completely" (AT IV 221/CSMK 251).
This line of thought leads directly to the *Passions of the
Soul*, in which Descartes discusses at length the causation and
function of the passions.



The second part of the remedy prescribed to Elisabeth aligns
Descartes' position with that of the ancients, who stress the
role of reason in regulating the passions. The person who is led by
passion will inevitably experience sadness, grief, fear,
anxiety--emotions inconsistent with "perfect
happiness." Such happiness is the possession alone of those
elevated souls in which reason "always remains
mistress":



> 
> the difference between the greatest souls and those that are base and
> common consists principally in the fact that common souls abandon
> themselves to their passions and are happy or unhappy only according
> as the things that happen to them are agreeable or unpleasant; the
> greatest souls, on the other hand, reason in a way that is so strong
> and cogent that, although they also have passions, and indeed passions
> which are often more violent than those of ordinary people, their
> reason nevertheless always remains mistress, and even makes their
> afflictions serve them and contribute to the perfect happiness they
> enjoy in this life. (AT IV 202; translation from Gaukroger 2002, 236).
> 



The link between reason and happiness is explored at length by
Descartes in letters exchanged with Elisabeth during the summer and
fall of 1645. The discussion begins with Descartes' suggestion
that they examine what the ancients had to say on the topic, and he
chooses as exemplary Seneca's work "On the Happy
Life" (*De Vita Beata*). Descartes, however, quickly
becomes dissatisfied with Seneca's treatment and proposes
instead to explain to Elizabeth how he thinks the subject
"should have been treated by such a philosopher, unenlightened
by faith, with only natural reason to guide him" (AT IV 263/CSMK
257).



Basic to Descartes' account is the distinction he draws between
(i) the supreme good, (ii) happiness, and (iii) the final end or goal,
notions generally taken as equivalent in ancient eudaimonism (AT IV
275/CSMK 261). Descartes identifies the supreme good with virtue,
which he defines as "a firm and constant will to bring about
everything we judge to be the best and to employ all the force of our
intellect in judging well" (AT IV 277/CSMK 262). Virtue is the
supreme good, he argues, because it is "the only good, among all
those we can possess, which depends entirely on our free will"
(AT IV 276/CSMK 261), and because it is sufficient for happiness.
Descartes explains happiness (*la beatitude*) in
psychological terms. It is the "perfect contentment of mind and
inner satisfaction... which is acquired by the wise without
fortune's favor" (AT IV 264/CSMK 257). According to
Descartes, "we cannot ever practice any virtue--that is to
say, do what our reason tells us we should do--without receiving
satisfaction and pleasure from doing so" (AT IV 284/CSMK 263).
Thus, happiness is a natural product of virtue and can be enjoyed
regardless of what fortune brings. The dependence of happiness on
virtue is confirmed by Descartes' account of the final end,
which, he says, can be regarded either as happiness or as the supreme
good: virtue is the target at which we ought to aim, but happiness is
the prize that induces us to fire at it (AT IV 277/CMSK 262).



Analysis of the fine structure of Descartes' ethical theory and
its relation to ancient eudaimonist theories has emerged as an active
area of research in recent years. Among the issues debated are the
content of Descartes' notion of virtue, the identity of virtue
and a human being's highest good, and the sufficiency of virtue
for happiness. While defending different answers to these questions,
scholars have broadly agreed in seeing Descartes as advancing an
original ethical theory that critically engages the positions of
Aristotle, Epicurus, and the Stoics. (For competing readings, some of
which diverge from the account presented here, see Alanen 2009;
Gueroult 1985; Naaman-Zauderer 2010; Rutherford 2004, 2014; Santilli
1992; Shapiro 2008, 2011; Svensson 2010, 2011, 2015, 2019a, 2019b,
2020; Viljanen 2021; Wienand 2012; Youpa 2013.)



As Descartes defines it, virtue depends upon the employment of reason.
Though it is conceivable that one might have a "firm and
constant will" to do something without having examined whether
it is the right thing to do, one cannot have a firm and constant will
to do what is judged to be the best, unless one is capable of judging
what the best is. Thus, virtue presupposes knowledge of the relative
goodness of objects of choice, and this knowledge Descartes assigns to
reason: "The true function of reason... is to examine and
consider without passion the value of all the perfections, both of the
body and of the soul, which can be acquired by our conduct, so
that... we shall always choose the better" (AT IV
286-7/CSMK 265).



But how exactly does reason allow us to discriminate between lesser
and greater goods? On one point Descartes' position is clear:
the claim of virtue to be the supreme good follows from the fact that
it is nothing more than the correct use of our free will, employing it
to choose whatever reason represents as the greatest good. As
Descartes argues in the Fourth Meditation, we are in no way more like
God--that is, more perfect--than in our possession of free
will. Hence the correct use of this will is our greatest good:
"free will is in itself the noblest thing we can have, since it
makes us in a way equal to God and seems to exempt us from being his
subjects; and so its correct use is the greatest of all the goods we
possess" (AT V 85/CSMK 326). Reason shows that the greatest good
within our power is the perfection of the will. In any choice we make,
the value of the particular goods we pursue will always be less than
that of the will itself; hence, provided we act virtuously, we can be
content, whether or not we succeed in obtaining whatever other goods
we seek.



Yet this still leaves open the question of how to assess the value of
these other goods. The supreme good, virtue, consists in a firm
resolution to bring about whatever reason judges to be the best. But
on the basis of what does reason make this determination? What
knowledge allows reason to form a well-founded judgment about the
goodness and badness of objects, in the pursuit of which we act
virtuously? Descartes criticizes Seneca on just this point--that
he fails to teach us "all the principal truths whose knowledge
is necessary to facilitate the practice of virtue and to regulate our
desires and passions, and thus to enjoy natural happiness" (AT
IV 267/CSMK 258). In response, Elisabeth worries that Descartes'
account, which promises the attainment of happiness, might presuppose
more knowledge than we can possibly possess. In assuaging her concern,
Descartes summarizes the knowledge he believes we can rely on in
directing the will toward virtuous ends. It consists of a surprisingly
small set of "the truths most useful to us." The first two
are basic principles of Cartesian metaphysics as presented in the
*Meditations*:


1. The existence of an omnipotent, supremely perfect God, whose
decrees are infallible. "This teaches us to accept calmly all
the things which happen to us as expressly sent by God" (AT IV
291-2/CSMK 265).
2. The immortality of the soul and its independence from the body.
"This prevents us from fearing death, and so detaches our
affections from the things of this world that we look upon whatever is
in the power of fortune with nothing but scorn" (AT IV 292/CSMK
266).



The next three truths derive from Cartesian natural philosophy,
broadly understood:


3. The indefinite extent of the universe. In recognizing this we
overcome our inclination to place ourselves at the center of the
cosmos, as though everything ought to happen for our sake, which is
the source of "countless vain anxieties and troubles" (AT
IV 292/CSMK 266).
4. That we are part of a larger community of beings, whose interest
take precedence over our own. "Though each of us is a person
distinct from others, whose interests are accordingly in some way
different from those of the rest of the world, we ought still to think
that none of us could subsist alone and that each one of us is really
one of the many parts of the universe.... And the interests of
the whole, of which each of us is a part, must always be preferred to
those of our particular person" (AT IV 293/CSMK 266).
5. That our passions represent goods as being much greater than they
really are, and that the pleasures of the body are never as lasting as
those of the soul or so great in possession as they are in
anticipation. "We must pay careful attention to this, so that
when we feel ourselves moved by some passion we suspend our judgment
until it is calmed, and do not let ourselves be deceived by the false
appearances of the goods of this world" (AT IV 295/CSMK
267).



The final proposition is of a quite different character:


6. Whenever we lack certain knowledge of how to act, we should defer
to the laws and customs of the land. "[O]ne must also minutely
examine all the customs of one's place of abode to see how far
they should be followed. Though we cannot have certain demonstrations
of everything, still we must take sides, and in matters of custom
embrace the opinions that seem the most probable, so they we may never
be irresolute when we need to act. For nothing causes regret and
remorse except irresolution" (ibid.).



The truths that Descartes takes to be "most useful to us"
do not consist of discoveries original to his philosophy. Rather, they
reflect a general outlook on the world that could be embraced by
someone without Cartesian sympathies: the existence of an omnipotent
and supremely perfect God; the immortality of the soul; the vastness
of the universe; that we have duties to a larger whole of which we are
a part; that our passions often distort the goodness of their objects.
What Descartes can claim at most (and what he does claim in the
preface to the *Principles of Philosophy*) is that he has
supplied better reasons for believing these propositions to be true;
he has established certain knowledge where before there was only
unstable belief.



The establishment of a body of knowledge relevant to the practice of
virtue supplies the basis for a new set of moral rules that replaces
the provisional morality of the *Discourse*. Descartes presents
them to Elisabeth as a succinct recipe for happiness:



> 
> It seems to me that each person can make himself content by himself
> without any external assistance, provided he respects three
> conditions, which are related to the three rules of provisional
> morality which I put forward in the *Discourse on the Method*.
> The first is that he should always try to employ his mind as well as
> he can to discover what he should and should not do in all the
> circumstances of life. The second is that he should have a firm and
> constant resolution to carry out whatever reason recommends without
> being diverted by his passions or appetites.... The third is that
> he should bear in mind that while he thus guides himself as far as he
> can by reason, all the good things which he does not possess are one
> and all entirely outside his power. (AT IV 265/CSMK 257-8)
> 



Here the *Discourse*'s final provisional rule has become
the first rule, reflecting the assumption that reason, in the form of
judgments about good and evil, can serve as a reliable guide for
action. Similarly, the *Discourse*'s second rule, which
prescribed that one be "as firm and decisive in [one's]
actions" as one can, and "follow even the most doubtful
opinions" once adopted, has now become an injunction to carry
out whatever reason recommends without being diverted by the passions.
The two sets of rules overlap most closely in the third rule, which
counsels us to recognize the limits of our power and to curtail our
desires for things outside of it. In this case too, however, the rule
now has a different status for Descartes, since it is supported by
certain knowledge of God, on whom all things depend, and the
immortality of the soul.



The truths that Descartes presents to Elisabeth supply a body of
rational knowledge on the basis of which we are able to use our free
will correctly, choosing good over evil. Clearly, though, the guidance
offered by these truths is of the most general sort. They do not
underwrite specific directives for action or dictate what we ought to
do in any particular circumstance. Instead, they are best seen simply
as facilitating right action, by removing impediments to it (anxiety
about the future, fear of death) or saving us from obvious errors
(ignoring the concerns of others, giving priority to bodily goods).
That the content of morality is underdetermined by the knowledge on
which it depends is made clear by Descartes' final proposition,
which instructs us to defer to the laws and customs of the land when
it is not obvious how we ought to act. This proposition echoes the
first rule of provisional morality that Descartes prescribes for
himself in the *Discourse*. However, this rule, too, has
undergone an important transformation. Whereas in the
*Discourse* deference to the laws and customs of one's
country is presented as the first rule of provisional morality, to
Elisabeth it is offered as a fallback position, acknowledging that
while we do indeed possess certain knowledge of good and evil, there
are limits to this knowledge.



The recognition of these limits is an enduring feature of
Descartes' ethics. The truths outlined to Elizabeth lay down a
set of general guidelines for how to use the will correctly. Following
them, however, does not guarantee that we infallibly choose the
greatest good; nor is success of this sort required for virtue. As far
as virtue is concerned, the critical point is that we do whatever we
can to ascertain the best course of action, appealing if necessary to
civil law or custom, and that we then will decisively. (For more on
this point, see Rutherford 2014.)



This creates an important disanalogy for Descartes between the
theoretical and the practical. In both cases, we have a responsibility
to correct our understanding before committing the will in judgment.
Only in the theoretical realm, however, is it reasonable to suspend
assent indefinitely if we lack the knowledge needed to be confident of
the correctness of our decision. In the case of action, Descartes
denies that this is appropriate: "As far as the conduct of life
is concerned, I am very far from thinking that we should assent only
to what is clearly perceived. On the contrary, I do not think that we
should always wait even for probable truths" (AT VII 149/CSM II
106). In acting, the essential thing is that we will in the right
manner, allowing reason to guide our choice so far as it can.
"It is... not necessary that our reason should be free from
error," he tells Elisabeth; "it is sufficient if our
conscience testifies that we have never lacked resolution and virtue
to carry out whatever we have judged the best course" (AT IV
266/CSMK 258). Resolution, or firmness of judgment, is crucial, for it
is the lack of this, above all, that causes "regret and
remorse" and thereby threatens our happiness (AT IV 264/CSMK
257).


## 5. Generosity and *The Passions of the Soul*



Descartes' correspondence with Princess Elisabeth led directly
to the composition of his final book, *The Passions of the
Soul*, a large part of which was written during the winter of
1645-6. In a prefatory letter to the book, Descartes maintains
that in it he has set out to explain the passions "only as a
natural philosopher [*physicien*], and not as a rhetorician or
even as a moral philosopher" (AT XI 326/CSM I 327). On the face
of it, this seems to be contradicted by the contents of the book,
since much of it is devoted to understanding the passions from an
ethical point of view--that is, understanding how they can be
accommodated to the goal of happiness. The significance of
Descartes' remark lies in the particular account he gives of the
passions. In general, they are defined as "those perceptions,
sensations or emotions of the soul which we refer particularly to it,
and which are caused, maintained and strengthened by some movement of
the [animal] spirits" (art. 27; CSM I 338-9).
Descartes' central thesis is that the passions originate in
bodily changes, which are communicated by the animal spirits to the
pineal gland, and thereby give rise to affective states in the
soul--affections which are referred to the soul itself and not to
the body. Because the passions originate in the body, a large part of
the book is devoted to differentiating the passions and accounting for
their effects in physiological terms; hence Descartes' claim to
explain them as a natural philosopher. (For extended treatments of
Descartes' theory of the passions, see Brown 2006; James 1997;
Kambouchner 1995a, b.)



Descartes distinguishes six primitive passions: wonder, love, hatred,
desire, joy and sadness. All the rest are either composed from these
or species of them (art. 69). The passions operate in a common manner:
"the principal effect of all the human passions is that they
move and dispose the soul to want the things for which they prepare
the body." Thus, the passsions are in the first place
motivational states that dispose the soul to will specific actions:
"the feeling of fear moves the soul to want to flee, that of
courage to want to fight, and similarly with the others" (art.
40; CSM I 343). Different passions result from the effects of
different motions on the pineal gland; and these, Descartes assumes,
have been ordained by God for the sake of preserving the human body:
"The function of all the passions consists solely in this, that
they dispose our soul to want the things which nature deems useful for
us, and to persist in this volition; and the same agitation of the
spirits which normally causes the passions also disposes the body to
make movements which help to attain these things" (art. 52; CSM
I 349). (Exactly how to characterize the passions as mental states
remains controversial. In addition to the works already cited, see
Brassfield 2012; Greenberg 2009; Hoffman 1991; Kisner 2018; Schmitter
2008.)



Given their natural function of preserving the body, the passions are
all by nature good (art. 211). They spur us to act in ways that are in
general conducive to our well-being. However, the effects of the
passions are not uniformly beneficial. Because they exaggerate the
goodness or badness of their objects, they can lead us to pursue
apparent goods or flee apparent harms too quickly. The passions are
also ordered for the sake of the preservation of the body, and not the
contentment of the soul; and because they originate in the body, any
malfunction of the latter can disrupt the normal operation of the
passions. For these reasons, it is necessary that the passions be
regulated by reason, whose "proper weapons" against their
misuse and excess are "firm and determinate judgements bearing
upon the knowledge of good and evil, which the soul has resolved to
follow in guiding its conduct" (art. 48; CSM I 347). Summarizing
his position at the end of the *Passions*, Descartes says that
"the chief use of wisdom lies in its teaching us to be masters
of our passions and to control them with such skill that the evils
which they cause are quite bearable, and even become a source of
joy" (art. 212; CSM I 404).



Over and above the role they play in the preservation of the body, the
passions also make a direct contribution to human happiness. In the
concluding article of the *Passions*, Descartes goes so far as
to say that "it is on the passions alone that all the good and
evil of this life depends" (art. 212; CSM I 404). In the body of
the article, he qualifies this claim, allowing that "the soul
can have pleasures of its own. But the pleasures common to it and the
body depend entirely on the passions." His considered view on
this question seems to be that the passions (particularly love and
joy) form a valuable part of a human life, that the enjoyment of them
is consistent with the happiness that is the natural product of
virtue, but that happiness of the latter sort can be had even in the
presence of harmful passions such as sadness or grief.



Happiness, as Descartes defines it for Elisabeth, is a "perfect
contentment of mind and inner satisfaction" (AT IV 264/CSMK
257), or the "satisfaction and pleasure" that accompanies
the practice of virtue (AT IV 284/CSMK 263). In the *Passions*,
he distinguishes these affects from the passions that originate in the
body. The former are described as "internal emotions of the
soul," which are "produced in the soul only by the soul
itself. In this they differ from its passions, which always depend on
some movement of the [animal] spirits" (art. 147; CSM I 381).
"Internal emotions" are thus independent of the body and
the basis of a happiness that can withstand "the most violent
assaults of the passions":



> 
> internal emotions affect us more intimately, and consequently have
> much more power over us than the passions which occur with them but
> are distinct from them. To this extent it is certain that, provided
> our soul always has the means of happiness within itself, all the
> troubles coming from elsewhere are powerless to harm it. Such troubles
> will serve rather to increase its joy; for on seeing that it cannot be
> harmed by them, it becomes aware of its perfection. And in order that
> our soul should have the means of happiness, it needs only to follow
> virtue strictly [*de suivre exactement la vertu*]. For if
> anyone lives in such a way that his conscience cannot reproach him for
> ever failing to do something he judges to be the best (which is what I
> here call 'following virtue'), he will receive from this a
> satisfaction which has such power to make him happy that the most
> violent assaults of the passions will never have sufficient power to
> disturb the tranquillity of his soul. (art. 148; AT XI 441-2/CSM
> I 381-2)
> 



Descartes is committed to the view that virtue is sufficient for
happiness, that is, a "perfect contentment of mind and inner
satisfaction." At the same time, he denies that virtue has value
only as a means to happiness. On the contrary, virtue is grounded in
the one aspect of human nature that is of unconditional value: the
exercise of our free will, the perfection of the soul that
"renders us in a certain way like God by making us masters of
ourselves" (art. 152; CSM I 384).



The full flowering of virtue is found in the moral ideal Descartes
calls "generosity"
(*generosite*), which he describes as
"the key to all the other virtues" (art. 161; CSM I 388).
Generosity begins as a passion, prompted by thoughts of the nature of
free will and the many advantages that follow from its correct use and
the many cares that follow from its misuse. Repetition of these
thoughts and of the consequent passion produces the *virtue* of
generosity, which is a "habit" of the soul (art. 161; CSM
I 387). This habit, "true generosity," has two components,
one intellectual, the other volitional: "The first consists in
[a person's] knowing that nothing truly belongs to him but this
freedom to dispose his volitions, and that he ought to be praised or
blamed for no other reason than his using this freedom well or badly.
The second consists in his feeling within himself a firm and constant
resolution to use it well--that is, never to lack the will to
undertake and carry out whatever he judges to be best. To do that is
to follow virtue perfectly" (art. 153; AT XI 445--6/ CSM I
384). (For further discussion, see Normore 2019; Parvizian 2016;
Rodis-Lewis 1987; Shapiro 1999, 2005.)



Generosity is an ideal of individual ethical perfection, but Descartes
also draws from it an important conclusion concerning our relations to
others (Brown 2006; Frierson 2002). Upon recognizing an element of
unconditional value within himself, the generous person is naturally
led to extend this recognition to others: "Those who possess
this knowledge and this feeling about themselves readily come to
believe that any other person can have the same knowledge and feeling
about himself, because this involves nothing which depends on someone
else." Those who are endowed with generosity are thus disposed
to overlook conventional distinctions of class and social status, and
to focus on the true, intrinsic worth of each individual:



> 
> Just as they do not consider themselves much inferior to those who
> have greater wealth or honour, or even to those who have more
> intelligence, knowledge or beauty, or generally to those who surpass
> them in some other perfections, equally they do not have much more
> esteem for themselves than for those whom they surpass. For all these
> things seem to them to be unimportant, by contrast with the virtuous
> will for which alone they esteem themselves, and which they suppose
> also to be present, or at least capable of being present, in every
> other person. (art. 154; CSM I 384).
> 



Thus, despite its nod to law and custom, which fill the space opened
by the limits of our moral knowledge, Descartes' ethics is
crowned by a principle of moral universalism. In virtue of their free
will, all human beings have the same moral status and deserve equal
moral respect. In this we find an important anticipation of
Kant's ethics, which emerges from a similar consideration of the
unconditional value of a rational and free will.