Knowledge is not a passion from without the mind, but an active

Hear now the profound words of Ralph Cudworth, a philosopher of the seventeenth century: “Knowledge is not a passion from without the mind, but an active exertion of the inward strength, vigor and power of the mind, displaying itself from within.” In these words lies a mighty truth—that knowledge is not something poured into us from the outside, as water into a vessel, but a fire that is kindled from within. The mind is not passive clay, waiting to be impressed; it is a living force, a wellspring of light, that reaches outward to grasp truth and make it its own.

The ancients often spoke of this inward flame. Plato, in his dialogues, likened learning to a remembering, a stirring of truths already within the soul, waiting to be awakened. Cudworth, standing in this tradition, declared that the mind is not merely moved by what is outside, but actively shapes, interprets, and creates meaning. To gain knowledge is not simply to receive—it is to exert the hidden strength of thought, to harness the vigor of reason, to draw upon the power that lies dormant in every human being.

Consider the tale of Archimedes in the ancient world. The king had asked him to determine whether a crown was of pure gold. No teacher gave him the answer, no book revealed it. As he bathed, he noticed the rising water and, in a moment of inward awakening, the truth leapt forth. He cried “Eureka!”—I have found it! This was not knowledge delivered to him from outside, but the unfolding of the power within his mind. His insight was born from exertion, from the active strength of thought, displaying itself outward in brilliance.

This is why Cudworth’s teaching still matters. Too often men believe that learning is merely to gather from others, to memorize what is spoken or written. But such learning is shallow, for it does not awaken the soul. True knowledge is the fruit of inward labor—the wrestling with questions, the meditations in silence, the courage to doubt and the patience to reason. It is not the mere storing of facts, but the shaping of wisdom by the inner vigor of the mind.

And see how history proves it again: Galileo, gazing at the stars through his telescope, did not simply accept the doctrines given him. He exerted the strength of his own mind, questioning, observing, reasoning, and from his own inner fire declared that the earth moved around the sun. Though condemned by the powers of his age, his discovery endured, for it was not borrowed—it was created from the inward power of thought. His knowledge was not passive reception but active conquest.

Therefore, the lesson is plain: do not be content to be a vessel filled by others. Stir your own mind to action. Let your strength rise, let your vigor be tested, let your power shape the truths you encounter. Read not as a slave, but as a seeker. Hear not as an echo, but as a mind discerning. Let every lesson you receive be awakened into life by your own effort, so that the knowledge you hold becomes living, your own possession, not another’s gift.

What then must you do? Begin each day by asking, How shall I awaken the powers of my mind today? Do not drift in passivity. Wrestle with questions, seek understanding beyond the surface, and let your learning be alive. When you study, meditate upon what it means. When you encounter truth, grasp it with the full exertion of your spirit. For knowledge that is truly yours is born not from without, but from the fire that blazes within.

Thus remember Cudworth’s words. Knowledge is not a passion impressed upon you from outside, but the shining forth of your inner strength, your inner vigor, your inner power. Guard that flame, feed it, and let it shine. For it is from within that the light of truth bursts forth, and in that light you shall walk with wisdom.