Descartes and Sir Isaac Newton

A Frenchman who arrives in London, will find philosophy, like everything else, very much changed there. He had left the world a plenum, and he now finds it a vacuum. At Paris the universe is seen composed of vortices of subtile matter; but nothing like it is seen in London. In France, it is the pressure of the moon that causes the tides; but in England it is the sea that gravitates towards the moon; so that when you think that the moon should make it flood with us, those gentlemen fancy it should be ebb, which very unluckily cannot be proved. For to be able to do this, it is necessary the moon and the tides should have been inquired into at the very instant of the creation.

A Frenchman arriving in London will find philosophy, like everything else, very different there. He left a world filled with matter and now finds a vacuum. In Paris, the universe is seen as a collection of swirling currents of fine matter. But nothing of the kind is seen in London. In France, the moon’s pressure causes the tides. But in England, the sea is drawn toward the moon by gravity. So when you think the moon should cause high tide in France, those gentlemen imagine there should be low tide. Very unfortunately, their view cannot be proved. For such proof would require studying the moon and the tides at the very moment of creation.

You will observe farther, that the sun, which in France is said to have nothing to do in the affair, comes in here for very near a quarter of its assistance. According to your Cartesians, everything is performed by an impulsion, of which we have very little notion; and according to Sir Isaac Newton, it is by an attraction, the cause of which is as much unknown to us. At Paris you imagine that the earth is shaped like a melon, or of an oblique figure; at London it has an oblate one. A Cartesian declares that light exists in the air; but a Newtonian asserts that it comes from the sun in six minutes and a half. The several operations of your chemistry are performed by acids, alkalies and subtile matter; but attraction prevails even in chemistry among the English.

Notice, too, that in France the sun is said to have no part in the affair. Here, the sun provides nearly a quarter of the help. According to your Cartesians, everything happens through a push, though we have very little idea what that push is. According to Sir Isaac Newton, everything happens through attraction, whose cause is just as unknown to us. In Paris, you imagine the earth is shaped like a melon, or has an oblique shape. In London, the earth is flattened at the poles. A Cartesian declares that light exists in the air. But a Newtonian insists that light comes from the sun in six and a half minutes. In your chemistry, acids, alkalis, and subtle matter carry out the various processes. But among the English, attraction rules even in chemistry.

The very essence of things is totally changed. You neither are agreed upon the definition of the soul, nor on that of matter. Descartes, as I observed in my last, maintains that the soul is the same thing with thought, and Mr. Locke has given a pretty good proof of the contrary.

The very nature of things has completely changed. You agree on neither the definition of the soul nor the definition of matter. In my last letter, I noted that Descartes maintains that the soul and thought are the same thing. Mr. Locke, however, has offered fairly strong proof of the opposite.

Descartes asserts farther, that extension alone constitutes matter, but Sir Isaac adds solidity to it.

Descartes also claims that matter consists only of extension, or taking up space. But Sir Isaac adds solidity as well.

How furiously contradictory are these opinions!

How wildly these opinions contradict each other!

This famous Newton, this destroyer of the Cartesian system, died in March, anno 1727. His countrymen honoured him in his lifetime, and interred him as though he had been a king who had made his people happy.

The famous Newton, who overthrew the Cartesian system, died in March 1727. His countrymen honored him during his lifetime. They buried him as though he had been a king who had made his people happy.

The English read with the highest satisfaction, and translated into their tongue, the Elogium of Sir Isaac Newton, which M. de Fontenelle spoke in the Academy of Sciences. M. de Fontenelle presides as judge over philosophers; and the English expected his decision, as a solemn declaration of the superiority of the English philosophy over that of the French. But when it was found that this gentleman had compared Descartes to Sir Isaac, the whole Royal Society in London rose up in arms. So far from acquiescing with M. Fontenelle’s judgment, they criticised his discourse. And even several (who, however, were not the ablest philosophers in that body) were offended at the comparison; and for no other reason but because Descartes was a Frenchman.

The English read with great satisfaction M. de Fontenelle’s tribute to Sir Isaac Newton and translated it into English. M. de Fontenelle had delivered the tribute at the Academy of Sciences. M. de Fontenelle sits in judgment over philosophers. The English expected his verdict to solemnly declare English philosophy superior to French philosophy. But when the English discovered that he had compared Descartes to Sir Isaac, the entire Royal Society in London protested. Far from accepting M. de Fontenelle’s judgment, the Society’s members criticized his speech. Several members even took offense at the comparison, though these were not the Society’s most capable philosophers. Their only reason for taking offense was that Descartes was French.

It must be confessed that these two great men differed very much in conduct, in fortune, and in philosophy.

We must admit that these two great men differed greatly in their behavior, their fortunes, and their philosophy.

Nature had indulged Descartes with a shining and strong imagination, whence he became a very singular person both in private life and in his manner of reasoning. This imagination could not conceal itself even in his philosophical works, which are everywhere adorned with very shining, ingenious metaphors and figures. Nature had almost made him a poet; and indeed he wrote a piece of poetry for the entertainment of Christina, Queen of Sweden, which however was suppressed in honour to his memory.

Nature had given Descartes a brilliant and powerful imagination. This made him highly unusual, both in his private life and in his way of reasoning. His imagination showed itself even in his philosophical works, which are filled with brilliant, inventive metaphors and figures of speech. Nature had almost made him a poet. Indeed, he wrote a poem to entertain Christina, Queen of Sweden. The poem, however, was kept from publication out of respect for his memory.

He embraced a military life for some time, and afterwards becoming a complete philosopher, he did not think the passion of love derogatory to his character. He had by his mistress a daughter called Froncine, who died young, and was very much regretted by him. Thus he experienced every passion incident to mankind.

He spent some time in the military and later devoted himself fully to philosophy. He did not think falling in love was beneath him as a philosopher. He had a daughter named Froncine with his mistress. She died young, and he mourned her deeply. Thus he experienced every human passion.

He was a long time of opinion that it would be necessary for him to fly from the society of his fellow creatures, and especially from his native country, in order to enjoy the happiness of cultivating his philosophical studies in full liberty.

For a long time, he believed he would have to flee society, especially his native country. He thought only by leaving could he enjoy the happiness of pursuing his philosophical studies in complete freedom.

Descartes was very right, for his contemporaries were not knowing enough to improve and enlighten his understanding, and were capable of little else than of giving him uneasiness.

Descartes was quite right, because his contemporaries did not know enough to deepen and clarify his understanding. They could do little more than cause him distress.

He left France purely to go in search of truth, which was then persecuted by the wretched philosophy of the schools. However, he found that reason was as much disguised and depraved in the universities of Holland, into which he withdrew, as in his own country. For at the time that the French condemned the only propositions of his philosophy which were true, he was persecuted by the pretended philosophers of Holland, who understood him no better; and who, having a nearer view of his glory, hated his person the more, so that he was obliged to leave Utrecht. Descartes was injuriously accused of being an atheist, the last refuge of religious scandal: and he who had employed all the sagacity and penetration of his genius, in searching for new proofs of the existence of a God, was suspected to believe there was no such Being.

He left France solely to search for truth, which was then persecuted by the miserable philosophy taught in the schools. Yet in the universities of Holland, where he took refuge, he found reason as distorted and corrupted as in France. For while the French condemned the only true claims in his philosophy, Holland’s supposed philosophers persecuted him too. They understood him no better than the French did. And because they saw his glory at closer range, they hated him all the more, forcing him to leave Utrecht. Descartes was unjustly accused of atheism, the last resort of religious slander. He had devoted all his genius and insight to finding new proofs of God’s existence. Yet he was suspected of believing that God did not exist.

Such a persecution from all sides, must necessarily suppose a most exalted merit as well as a very distinguished reputation, and indeed he possessed both. Reason at that time darted a ray upon the world through the gloom of the schools, and the prejudices of popular superstition. At last his name spread so universally, that the French were desirous of bringing him back into his native country by rewards, and accordingly offered him an annual pension of a thousand crowns. Upon these hopes Descartes returned to France; paid the fees of his patent, which was sold at that time, but no pension was settled upon him. Thus disappointed, he returned to his solitude in North Holland, where he again pursued the study of philosophy, whilst the great Galileo, at fourscore years of age, was groaning in the prisons of the Inquisition, only for having demonstrated the earth’s motion.

Such persecution from all sides must imply exceptional merit and a remarkable reputation, and he indeed had both. At that time, reason cast a ray of light through the darkness of scholastic learning and popular superstition. Eventually, Descartes became so widely known that the French wanted to lure him back to his native country with rewards. They therefore offered him an annual pension of a thousand crowns. With these hopes, Descartes returned to France and paid the fees for his official grant, then sold for a fee. But he was never granted a pension. Disappointed, he returned to his solitude in North Holland, where he resumed his study of philosophy. Meanwhile, the great Galileo, at eighty, was suffering in the prisons of the Inquisition, solely for demonstrating the earth’s motion.

At last Descartes was snatched from the world in the flower of his age at Stockholm. His death was owing to a bad regimen, and he expired in the midst of some literati who were his enemies, and under the hands of a physician to whom he was odious.

At last, Descartes was taken from the world in the prime of his life in Stockholm. His death was caused by a poor health regimen. He died surrounded by some scholars who were his enemies, in the care of a doctor who loathed him.

The progress of Sir Isaac Newton’s life was quite different. He lived happy, and very much honoured in his native country, to the age of fourscore and five years.

Sir Isaac Newton’s life took a very different course. He lived happily and was highly honored in his native country until the age of eighty-five.

It was his peculiar felicity, not only to be born in a country of liberty, but in an age when all scholastic impertinences were banished from the world. Reason alone was cultivated, and mankind could only be his pupil, not his enemy.

He had the rare good fortune to be born in a free country. But he was also born in an age when all the nonsense of scholastic philosophy had been banished from the world. Reason alone was cultivated, and humanity could only learn from him, not oppose him.

One very singular difference in the lives of these two great men is, that Sir Isaac, during the long course of years he enjoyed, was never sensible to any passion, was not subject to the common frailties of mankind, nor ever had any commerce with women—a circumstance which was assured me by the physician and surgeon who attended him in his last moments.

One striking difference between the lives of these two great men concerns Sir Isaac. Throughout his long life, he never felt any passion and was free from the common weaknesses of humanity. Nor did he ever have sexual relations with women. The physician and surgeon who attended him in his final moments assured me of this last fact.

We may admire Sir Isaac Newton on this occasion, but then we must not censure Descartes.

We may admire Sir Isaac Newton in this case. But we must not criticize Descartes for it.

The opinion that generally prevails in England with regard to these new philosophers is, that the latter was a dreamer, and the former a sage.

The general view in England is that the latter of these new philosophers was a dreamer, while the former was a wise man.

Very few people in England read Descartes, whose works indeed are now useless. On the other side, but a small number peruse those of Sir Isaac, because to do this the student must be deeply skilled in the mathematics, otherwise those works will be unintelligible to him. But notwithstanding this, these great men are the subject of everyone’s discourse. Sir Isaac Newton is allowed every advantage, whilst Descartes is not indulged a single one. According to some, it is to the former that we owe the discovery of a vacuum, that the air is a heavy body, and the invention of telescopes. In a word, Sir Isaac Newton is here as the Hercules of fabulous story, to whom the ignorant ascribed all the feats of ancient heroes.

Very few people in England read Descartes, whose works are now indeed useless. On the other hand, only a few read the works of Sir Isaac. To understand his works, readers must have a deep knowledge of mathematics. Otherwise, his works will make no sense to them. Yet everyone talks about these great men. Sir Isaac Newton gets credit for everything, while Descartes gets none at all. Some credit Newton with discovering the vacuum, discovering that air has weight, and inventing telescopes. In short, Sir Isaac Newton is treated here like Hercules in ancient myths. The ignorant credited Hercules with all the feats of ancient heroes.

In a critique that was made in London on Mr. de Fontenelle’s discourse, the writer presumed to assert that Descartes was not a great geometrician. Those who make such a declaration may justly be reproached with flying in their master’s face. Descartes extended the limits of geometry as far beyond the place where he found them, as Sir Isaac did after him. The former first taught the method of expressing curves by equations. This geometry which, thanks to him for it, is now grown common, was so abstruse in his time, that not so much as one professor would undertake to explain it; and Schotten in Holland, and Format in France, were the only men who understood it.

In a London review of Mr. de Fontenelle’s discourse, the writer dared to claim that Descartes was no great geometrician. Those who make such a claim can rightly be accused of defying their own master. Descartes advanced geometry as far beyond its existing limits as Sir Isaac later advanced it beyond Descartes. Descartes was the first to teach the method of expressing curves through equations. Thanks to him, this geometry is now common knowledge. But in his time, it was so difficult that not a single professor would agree to explain it. Only Schotten in Holland and Format in France understood it.

He applied this geometrical and inventive genius to dioptrics, which, when treated of by him, became a new art. And if he was mistaken in some things, the reason of that is, a man who discovers a new tract of land cannot at once know all the properties of the soil. Those who come after him, and make these lands fruitful, are at least obliged to him for the discovery. I will not deny but that there are innumerable errors in the rest of Descartes’ works.

He applied his inventive and mathematical genius to dioptrics, the study of how light bends. In his hands, dioptrics became a new art. And if he made some mistakes, the reason is simple. A man who discovers new land cannot immediately know all the properties of its soil. Those who come after him and make the land productive at least owe him credit for the discovery. But I will not deny that the rest of Descartes’ works contain countless errors.

Geometry was a guide he himself had in some measure fashioned, which would have conducted him safely through the several paths of natural philosophy. Nevertheless, he at last abandoned this guide, and gave entirely into the humour of forming hypotheses; and then philosophy was no more than an ingenious romance, fit only to amuse the ignorant. He was mistaken in the nature of the soul, in the proofs of the existence of a God, in matter, in the laws of motion, and in the nature of light. He admitted innate ideas, he invented new elements, he created a world; he made man according to his own fancy; and it is justly said, that the man of Descartes is, in fact, that of Descartes only, very different from the real one.

Geometry was a guide he had partly shaped himself. It would have led him safely through the various branches of natural philosophy. Yet he eventually abandoned this guide and gave himself over entirely to inventing hypotheses. Philosophy then became nothing more than a clever work of fiction, fit only to entertain the ignorant. He was wrong about the nature of the soul and the proofs of God's existence. He was also wrong about matter, the laws of motion, and the nature of light. He accepted innate ideas, invented new elements, and created a world. He made human beings according to his own fancy. People rightly say that Descartes's version of a human being belongs to Descartes alone, very different from a real one.

He pushed his metaphysical errors so far, as to declare that two and two make four for no other reason but because God would have it so. However, it will not be making him too great a compliment if we affirm that he was valuable even in his mistakes. He deceived himself; but then it was at least in a methodical way. He destroyed all the absurd chimeras with which youth had been infatuated for two thousand years. He taught his contemporaries how to reason, and enabled them to employ his own weapons against himself. If Descartes did not pay in good money, he however did great service in crying down that of a base alloy.

He took his errors in metaphysics so far that he claimed two and two make four only because God willed it. Still, it is not too generous to say that even his mistakes had value. He deceived himself, but at least he did so methodically. He swept away all the absurd fantasies that had captivated young minds for two thousand years. He taught his contemporaries how to reason and enabled them to turn his own weapons against him. If Descartes did not pay in good money, he still did a great service by exposing debased coins as worthless.

I indeed believe that very few will presume to compare his philosophy in any respect with that of Sir Isaac Newton. The former is an essay, the latter a masterpiece. But then the man who first brought us to the path of truth, was perhaps as great a genius as he who afterwards conducted us through it.

I do believe very few would dare compare his philosophy in any way with Sir Isaac Newton’s. His philosophy is an attempt, while Newton’s is a masterpiece. But the man who first showed us the path to truth was perhaps as great a genius as the man who later guided us along it.

Descartes gave sight to the blind. These saw the errors of antiquity and of the sciences. The path he struck out is since become boundless. Rohault’s little work was, during some years, a complete system of physics; but now all the Transactions of the several academies in Europe put together do not form so much as the beginning of a system. In fathoming this abyss no bottom has been found. We are now to examine what discoveries Sir Isaac Newton has made in it.

Descartes gave sight to the blind. They saw the errors of ancient thinkers and of the sciences. The path he opened has since become boundless. For some years, Rohault’s little book offered a complete system of physics. But now, all the published proceedings of Europe’s academies combined do not provide even the beginnings of a system. No one exploring this abyss has found the bottom. We will now examine what Sir Isaac Newton has discovered in this abyss.