PREFACE.

began to see that it was not well possible to believe that he himself and all this was made and governed without any wisdom. So it was that about fourteen days before his death, he thanked this friend for the advice given previously. Loathing his former disastrous thoughts with a flood of the most bitter tears, he prayed for forgiveness until his end to that God whom he had not wanted to recognize in all his life. At the last, he praised His unimaginably great mercy, by which He had been pleased to look down with eyes of grace upon such an abominable creature who deserved nothing other than His wrath and vengeance. I know of others of this sort who ended their lives in an unhappy way through their own doing in the water, through self-administered poison, or on their bed in the most harrowing despair.

§. 7. On this occasion of the death of atheists, I cannot omit to quote here what is said of Spinoza, and also, as far as I have been able to learn, what is said with truth: namely, that he ended his life in solitude and a great stillness without showing outward signs of unrest. This I know, that it first occurred to some weak godly people with much amazement, because they had either seen or heard of quite different and very fearful workings of God concerning those who deny Him. And secondly, that this has given the followers of this Spinoza occasion to judge therefrom that his sentiment was not so groundless.

To answer both of these, let the first remember that God, acting as a sovereign power, does not always punish all sins so evidently in this life.

And the latter, if they are experienced in his writings, will be able to conclude from them that Spinoza is not so much to be held as a rational reasoner, but rather as such an atheist who, whether with or against conviction, simply wanted to adhere to atheism because it could, according to his thoughts, make him live with more cheerfulness.

One should not think that I write this out of passion against him, but only to look at his own words in the 34th letter to W. V. Blyenbergh. There he first says that he does not understand the Holy Scripture, and rests entirely on what reason shows him; and after that (instead of proving the certainty thereof, which would have been fitting for a true philosopher in this case), he continues in a manner completely unworthy of someone seeking truth: original: "En indien het geen, dat ik alree van het natuurlyk verstand hebbe, eens valfch bevonden wierd, foo maakt het my egter gelukkig, terwyl ik 't geniet, en myn leven niet met tranen en fugten, maar geruftelyk, blydelyk, en vrolyk doorbreng &c." "And if that which I already have from natural reason were once found to be false, it nevertheless makes me happy while I enjoy it, and I spend my life not with tears and sighs, but calmly, happily, and cheerfully, etc." Now, whether these words prove a truth-seeking philosopher, or a stubborn atheist who does not want to be convinced so as not to lose his cheerfulness, let intelligent people judge.

Now, no one will contradict that God can let a stubborn blasphemer fall so far that, after having persisted in it for a long time, he finally remains completely blind until the present Vengeance of God opens his eyes.

Secondly, it is also certain that in order not to be disturbed, he did not want to hold any discussions with anyone on his sickbed or deathbed concerning the state of men after this life and the certainty or uncertainty of his sentiments; which also bears little resemblance to the right conviction of a true philosophy. For although his mind might have been so weakened by the force of the illness that he could not answer all objections for that reason to his satisfaction, it was nevertheless true, according to his own grounds, that he would not have been more unhappy after his death because of it; but only that he could no longer flatter and please himself with the honor of being a stronger spirit than others.

Finally, I must add here that one of his most special friends and disciples was known to me closely in my youth, who had always adhered to his thoughts. He was accustomed to maintaining them with a great deal of shrewdness, since he excelled in intellect, whenever there was freedom to do so. In his illness, after the example of his master, he kept silent for a long time, but finally burst out in these terrifying words: that he now believed all that he had previously denied, but that it was now too late to hope for mercy. A certain learned gentleman was pleased to make this piteous end known to me with all the circumstances, because he said he knew that I, having known this man in his sentiments over many years, would not be able to refrain from being curious to learn the manner of his passing upon hearing of his death.

Whether, after having considered all this, the end of Spinoza can give any ground of tranquility to his lamentable followers, I shall leave to them themselves, if they wish to judge without passion.

§. 8. A third cause of these pitiable sentiments seems in some to be a simple ignorance.

Thus I have met some who, never having exercised their intellect in the investigation of any causes, followed their inclinations in everything as far as their opportunity, which was small enough, allowed. When asked what they thought of the world and its origin, they fully denied a God who had made it.

One of this sort occurred to me who, after many years of being extremely given over to drunkenness, having spent his ignorant and sufficiently beastly life in this destructive delusion, died in those thoughts: at least as far as those who were present at his end and informed me of such could see.