Part 87

We must say in general: "This is made by figure and motion for it is true." But to say what these are, and to compose the machine, is ridiculous, for it is useless, uncertain, and painful. And if it were true we do not think that all philosophy is worth one hour of pain.

I cannot forgive Descartes.

If an animal did by mind what it does by instinct, and if it spoke by mind what it speaks by instinct, in hunting, and warning its companions that the quarry is found or lost, it would certainly also speak in regard to those things which affect it more strongly, as for instance, "Gnaw me this cord which hurts me, and which I cannot reach."

The story of the pike and frog of Liancourt. They do it always and never otherwise, nor any other thing of mind.

The calculating machine works results which approach nearer to thought than any thing done by animals, but it does nothing which enables us to say it has any will, as animals have.

When it is said that heat is only the motion of certain molecules, and light the conatus recedendi which we feel, we are surprised. And shall we think that pleasure is but the buoyancy of our spirits? We have conceived so different an idea of it, and these sensations seem so removed from those others which we say are the same as those with which we compare them. The feeling of fire, the warmth which affects us in a manner wholly different from touch, the reception of sound and light, all this seems to us mysterious, and yet it is as material as the blow of a stone. It is true that the minuteness of the spirits which enter into the pores touch different nerves, yet nerves are always touched.

What is more absurd than to say that inanimate bodies have passion, fear, horror, that insensible bodies, without life, and even incapable of life, have passions, which presuppose at least a sensitive soul to feel them, nay more, that the object of their terror is a vacuum? What is there in a vacuum which should make them afraid? What can be more base and more ridiculous? Nor is this all; it is said they have in themselves a principle of motion to avoid a vacuum. Have they arms, legs, muscles, nerves?

How foolish is painting, which draws admiration by the resemblance of things of which we do not admire the originals.

In the same way that we injure the understanding we injure the feelings also.

The feelings and the understanding are formed by society, and are perverted by society. Thus good or bad society forms or perverts them. It is then of the first importance to know how to choose in order to form and not to pervert them, and we cannot make this choice if they be not already formed and not perverted. Thus a circle is formed, and happy are those who escape it.

Have you never seen persons, who, in order to complain of the little you make of them, bring before you the example of people in high position who esteem them? To such I answer, "Show me the merit by which you have charmed these persons, and I will esteem you too."

The world is full of good maxims. All that is needed is their right application. For instance, no one doubts that we ought to risk our lives for the common weal, and many do so. But for Religion, none.

Nature diversifies and imitates, art imitates and diversifies.

The more intellect we have ourselves, the more originality do we discover in others. Ordinary people find no difference between men.

Since we cannot be universal, and know all that is to be known of everything, we should know a little of everything. For it is far better to know something of all than to know the whole of one thing, this universality is the best. If we can have both, still better, but if we must choose, let us choose the first. The world feels and acts on this, and the world is often a good judge.

Certain authors speaking of their works, say: "My book, my commentary, my history, etc." They are like the middle-class people who have a small house of their own, and have "my house" always on the tongue. They would do better to say: "Our book, our commentary, our history, etc."; because there is in them generally more of other people's than their own.

A true friend is so great an advantage, even for the greatest lords, in order that he may speak well of them, and uphold them in their absence, that they ought to do all that is possible to have one. But they should choose well, for spite of all they may do for fools, whatever good these say of them would be useless, and they would not even speak well of them if they found themselves in the minority, for they are without authority. And thus they would abuse them in company.

"You are ungraceful, excuse me, I beg." Without that excuse I had not known there was aught amiss. "With reverence be it spoke...." The only evil is the excuse.

I always dislike such compliments as these: I have given you a great deal of trouble. I fear I am tiring you. I fear this is too long. For we either have our audience with us, or we provoke them.

Rivers are roads which move and carry us whither we wish to go.

In every action we must look beyond the action at our past, present and future state, and at others whom it affects, and see the relations of all these things. And then we shall be very careful.

In every dialogue and discourse we ought to be able to say to those who are offended, "Of what do you complain?"

There are many people who listen to the sermon as they listen to vespers.

When a strong man armed keepeth his palace, his goods are in peace.

NOTES.

NOTES.

P. 2. Pascal's Profession of Faith. A few days after Pascal's death, a servant discovered this profession sewed into a fold of his master's waistcoat, pourpoint. It was written on parchment, with a copy on paper. His family believed that he had carefully placed this in each new garment, desiring to have always about him the memorial of the great spiritual crisis.

P. 3, l. 32. Dereliquerunt me. Jer. li. 13.