first part of the "Ethics" were already sketched out in MS., and were in the hands of several of Spinoza's friends, who had formed a kind of philosophical club at Amsterdam, and held regular meetings for the study and discussion of the work. De Vries was commissioned, it seems, to write to Spinoza for the explanation of such points as remained obscure to the company. He says in the same letter: —
At times I complain of my fate in being so far from you. Happy, most happy is the companion who dwells with you under the same roof, and who can at all times, dining, supping, or walking, hold discourse with you of the most excellent matters.[1]
Spinoza willingly gave the desired explanations, and replied thus to the complaint:
You need not envy my fellow-lodger. There is no one I like less, or with whom I have been more cautious; so that I must warn you and all our friends not to communicate my doctrines to him till he has come to riper years. He is still too childish and inconstant, and cares more for novelty than truth. Still I hope he will amend these youthful failings some years hence; indeed, so far as I can guess from his disposition, I am pretty sure of it; and so his general character moves me to be friendly with him.[2]
It is worth observing that these and other letters of the same time, such as the very important one to Dr. Meyer, in which the notions of space, time, and infinity are discussed, show that as early as 1663 Spinoza's philosophy was fully formed as to its main features. This at once fixes the permissible limits of any speculation upon the growth of Spinoza's ideas which may be founded on a comparison of his earlier and later works. For instance, the avoidance of purely metaphysical discussion in the "Tractatus Theologico-Politicus," published in 1670, must be set down not to uncertainty or immaturity of thought, but to deliberate reserve dictated by reasons of policy.
At this time (1663) Spinoza published the "Principles of Cartesian Philosophy." It has already been mentioned that in this book he was not speaking for himself, and he attached no value to it (as he informed Oldenburg), save as a means of attracting attention and, patronage in certain places (alluding probably to the De Witts), such as might encourage him to publish something more substantial of his own. The book seems to have done its work in assuring the author's reputation. In 1664 we find William van Blyenbergh, a worthy merchant of Dort and a man of good family, introducing himself to Spinoza by letter in these terms: —
Dear Sir and unknown Friend, — I have already several times carefully read over your treatise lately published with its appendix. It will be more proper for me to speak to others than to yourself of the instruction I found in it and the pleasure I derived from it. This much I cannot forbear saying, that the oftener I go over it with attention, the more I am pleased with it, and I constantly find something which I had not marked before.
He proceeds to ask several metaphysical questions.[3] Spinoza received his unknown correspondent with a warm welcome.
Unknown Friend — From your letter I understand your exceeding love of truth, and how that only is the aim of all your desires; and since I direct my mind upon naught else, this constrains me to determine, not only fully to grant your request, which is to answer to the best of my skill the questions which you now send or shall send hereafter, but to perform all else on my part which may avail for our better acquaintance and sincere friendship. For myself, there is among things out of my own control none I prize more than entering into the bond of friendship with men who are sincere lovers of truth. For I believe that nothing in the world, not being under our control, can be so securely taken for the object of our love as men of this temper; since ‘tis no more possible to dissolve that love they have for one another (seeing it is founded on the love each of them hath for the knowledge of truth) than not to embrace the truth itself when once perceived.
Blyenbergh sent to this a very long reply, from which Spinoza discovered that their notions of philosophical inquiry did not agree so well as he had supposed. "So that," he says, "I fear we shall get little mutual instruction by our correspondence. For I perceive that no proof, however firm it may be as a proof, may have weight with you unless it agrees with the construction which you or certain other theologians may put upon the Scriptures." For my part, he continues in effect, I confess I find the Scriptures obscure, though I have studied them several years; and on the other hand, when I obtain sufficient proof of anything, I know not how to refuse assent to it. And he goes on to show that Blyenbergh has completely misunderstood his position. This, however, did not put an end to the correspondence,
