'lis true, that we cannot of our felves difcover the Truth ^ but we can doe it at all times with the alhitance of him that enlightens us, and can never doe it with that of: all the Men in the World. Thofe that know it belt cannot fhew it to us, unlefs we ask it of him, to whom they have made their Application; and unlets he be pleafed to anfwer our Queftions, that is, our At- tention, as he has clone theirs. We are not therefore to believe, becaufe Men fay this or that, for every Man is a Liar -, but becaufe he that cannot deceive fpeaks to us, and we mull perpetually interrogate him for the folution of our Difficuties. We ought not to truft to them that fpeak only to the Ears; inftruct but the Body, or at the utmoffc move but the Imagination. But we ought attentively to liften unto, and faithfully believe him who fpeaks to the Mind, informs the Reaibn, and piercing into the moll abftrufe RecefTes of the inward Man, is able to enlighten and itrengihen him, againft the outward and fenlible Man, that continually labours to feduce and cor- rupt him. I often repeat thefe things, becaufe I believe them moll worthy of a ferious Confidera- tion. God alOne is to be honour'd, becaufe he only can endue us with Knowledge, as 'tis he alone that can fill us with Pleafure.
There is fometimes in the animal Spirits, and the reft of the Body, a Difpofition that provokes to i-iunting, Dancing, Running, and other Corporeal Exercifes, wherein the Force and Activity of the Body are molt confpicuous: Which Difpofition is very ordinary to young Men, efpecially before their Body be in a State of Confiftency. Children cannot Hay in one place, and will al- ways be moving, if they follow their humour. For whereas all their Mufcles are not yet ilrength- ened, nor perfectly finilht •, therefore God, who as the Author of Nature, regulates the Pleafures ot the Soul, with reference to, the Good of the Body, cauies them to be delighted with fuch Exercifes as may invigorate it. Thus whillt the Flefh and Fibres of their Nerves are yet fofr, the Channels through which the animal Spirits mull necelTarily How, to produce all forts of Mo- tion, are wore, and kept open, Flumours have no time to fettle, and all Obltrucvtions and Caufes of Corruption are removed.
The confuted Senfation that young Men have of that Difpofition of their Body, makes them pleafed with the thoughts of their Strength and Dexterity. They "admire themfelves when they know how to meafure their Motions, and to make extraordinary ones, and are ambitious of be- ing in the prefence of Spectators and Admirers. Thus they llrengthen by degrees their Inclina- tion to Corporeal- Exercifes," which is one of the principal Caufes of Ignorance and Brutifhnels. For hefides the time that is by that meanes lavifht away, the little ufe they make of their Under- Handing, caufes the chief part of the Brain, in whofe tra&ablenefs the force and quicknefs of the Mind elpecially eonfiits, to become altogether inflexible, and the animal Spirits, through difufe, are difficultly difpers'd in the Brain, in a manner requilite to think of what they pleafe. *■ This incapacitates moft part of the Nobility and Gentry, efpecially fuch as follow the War, to apply themfelves to any thing. They anfwer with a Word and a Blow, as the Proverb lays -, for if you fpeak any thing that they, don't willingly hear, inltead of thinking upon a fuitable Reply, their Animal Spirits infenfibly flow into the Mufcles that raife the Arm, and make them anfwer without Confideration, with a Blow, or a Threatning Gefture^ becaufe their Spirits, agitated by the Words thev hear, are conveyed to fuch Places, as are moft open through Habit and Exercife. The fenfe of their Corporeal Strength confirms them in thofe intuiting Manners h and the fubmif- five Afpect of their Hearers puffs 'em up with fuch an abfurd Confidence, as makes them believe they have laid very fine things, when they have but haughtily and brutifhly uttered Impertinen- cies ^ being iiater'd bv the Fear and Caution of the Standers by.
It is noc pofhble to have applied our felves to any Study, or to make actual profeihon of any. Science, to be either Author or Doctor, without being confeious of it. But that very Confcioul- F nefs F. Malebranche. Concerning Book nefs naturally produces infome Menfucha vaft Number of Imperfections, that it would be better with them if they wanted thole Honourable Qualities. As they look upon them as their moft con- filerable Perfections, fo they are extreamly pleafed with that Contemplation •, they let them before the Eyes of others With all the poffible Dexterity, and conceive they have thereby right to judge of every thing without Examination. If any be fo couragious as to contradict them, they at firit en- deavour skillfully, and with a fweet and obliging Countenance, to infinuate what they are, and what right they have to determine of fuch Matters: And if any ftill prefume to oppofe them; and that they be at a lofs for an Anfwer, they do not ftick openly to declare what they think of themfelves and of their Adverfaries.
Every inward Senfe of any Qualification we enjoy, naturally fwells up the Courage. A Troop- er well mounted and accoutred, who neither wants Blood nor Spirits, is ready to undertake any thing ^ that Difpofition infpiring him with an undaunted Boldneis. So it goes with a Man of Let- ters; when he fanfies himielf to be Learned^ and that the Haughtinefs of his Heart has corrupted his Mind, he becomes, if I may lb Ipeak, bold and fierce againft Truth. Sometimes he rafhly impungs it without knowing it, at other times he confciouily betrays it; and relying upon his ima- ginary Learning, is always ready to affert, either the Affirmative or Negative, according as he is poifeiTed with a Spirit of Contradiction.
It goes quite otherwife with thofe that make no Orientation of Learning: they are not pofitive -, neither do they fpeak, unlefs they have fomething to fay; and it even often happens that they re- main filent when they fhould fpeak. They have neither that Fame, nor thole outward Charac- ters of Learning, which fpur Men on to fpeak without Knowledge, and fo may decently hold their Peace: but the Pretenders are afraid to make a flop, fince they are fenfible they lhall be de- fpis'd for their Silence, even when they have nothing to lay -, and that they are not always in dan- ger of falling into Contempt, though they fpeak but Impertinencies, provided they utter them with a Scientifick Confidence.
What makes Men capable of thinking, enables them to know the Truth •, but neither Honours, Pviches, Univerfity-Degrees, nor Chimerical Erudition, makes them capable of thinking. It's their own Nature, for they are made to think, becaufe they are created lor the Truth. Even bodily Health qualifies them not for thinking well, but only is a lefs Hinderance than Sicknels. Our Body amlts us in fome manner in perceiving by Senfe, and imagining -, but not at all in con- ceiving. For though without its Help we cannot attentively meditate, nor oppofe the continual Impreffion of the Senies and Pafiions, which endeavour to perplex and obliterate our Ideas, be- eaule in this prefent State, we cannot overcome the Body, but by the Body; yet 'tis plain that the Body cannot illuminate the Mind, nor produce in it the Light of Underftanding, fince every Idea that difcovers the Truth proceeds from Truth it felf. All that the Soul receives from the Bo- dy relates only to it, and when (he follows thofe Glimpfes, Ihe fees nothing but Phantafms and Dreams h that is to lay, Ihe fees not things as they are in themfelves, but only as they have rela- tion to her Body.
As the Idea of our own Greatneis or Littlenefs is a frequent occafion of Errour, fo likewife the Ideas of outward things that have refFerence to us, make no leis dangerous an Impreffion. We have already obferv'd that the Idea of Greatneis is always attended with a great Motion of Spirits, and a great Motion of the Spirits is ever accompanied with the Idea of Greatnefs: and that on the contrary, that of Littlenefs is always followed with a fmall Motion of Spirits, which is in its turn accompanied with the Idea of Meannels. From that Principle 'tis eafy to infer, that fuch things as produce in us great Motions of Spirits, muft naturally appear greater, ftronger, and more real and perfect than others:, for in the word Greatneis I comprehend all thole Qualifications, and fuch like. So that fenfible Good muft needs leem to us more confiderable and lblid, than that which cannot be felt; if we judge of it by the Motion of the Spirits, and not by the pure Idea of Truth. A great Houfe, a fumptuous Retinue, a fine Furniture, Offices, Honour, Riches, will then appear to us to have more greatnefs and reality in them than Juftice and other Vertues.
When we compare Vertue to Riches by the pure Eyes of the Mind, we prefer Vertue: but if we make ufe of our Corporeal Eyes and Imagination, and judge of thofe things by the "Motion of the Spirits, which they raife in us, we lhall doubtlefs chule Riches rather than Vertue.
'Tis from the lame Principle that we imagine that fpiritual arid infenfible things are almoft no- thing h that the Ideas of our Mind are lefs noble than the Objecfs they reprefent; that there is lels reality and fubftance in the Air than inMetalls, and in Water than in Ice •, that thofe vaft Spa- ces that reach from the Earth to the Firmament, are empty, or that the Bodies that fill them have not lb much reality and folidity, as the Sun and Stars. In fhort, our reafoning upon that falfe Prin- ciple induces us into an infinite number of Errours, concerning the Nature and Perfection of eve-- ry thing.
A great Motion of Spirits, and by confequence a ftrong Paflion, always attending the fenfible Idea of Grandeur, and a fmall Motion, and confequently a weak Paflion, ftill accompanying the ■fenfible Idea of Meannefs -, we are very attentive to, and beftow a great deal of our time on the ftu- dy of fuch things as raife die fenfible Idea of Grandeur-, whereas we neglecl thofe which afford but the ienfible Idea of Meannels. Thofe great Bodies, for inftance, which riiake their Circumvo- tions over our Heads, have ever made a great Impreffion upon Men, who at firft ador'd them,.be- caufe of theit Light and Brightnefs, or fenfible Idea of Grandeur-, fome bolder Wits prefum'd to examine their Motions; fo that the Stars have been in all Ages the Objecl, either of the Study, or of tile Veneration of the greatelt part of Mankind. It may even be laid, that the fear of their Phan-.
taftick Chap. VII. "1 he Search after truth., i % taftick Influences, which Ml fright Aftrologers and Weak Perfons, is a fort of Adoration, paid bv % Bruin-lick Imagination, to the Idea of Greatnefs that reprefents Celeftial Bodies.
But the Body of Man, on the contrary, that is infinitely more admirable, and deferves more our Application, than whatever we can know of Saturn, Jupiter, and other Planets, has remained a long time almoft unknown. The fenfible Idea of dhTected parts of Flelh, having nothing great, but being rather diftaftful and noifome^ it is but a few years fince Men of Parts have looked upon A- natomy, as a Science that deferved their ftudy. There have been Princes and Kings that hoafted of being Aftronomers; the height and magnitude of the Stars feem'd to fuit their Dignity and Grandeur: but I know not of any that were ever ambitious of knowing Anatomy, and skilfully •difTecting a Heart, or a Brain. The fame may be faid of feveral other Sciences.
Rare and extraordinary things incite in Mens Minds greater and more fenfible Motions, than fuch as are feen every day •, we admire them, and by a natural Confequence we fix on them an Idea of Greatnefs, that is followed withPaflions of Efteem and Reverence. This perverts theReafon of feveral Perfons, who are fo very refpe&ful and curious of all the Remains of Antiquity, and whatever comes from far,, or is rare and extraordinary, that they are as Slaves to them; becaufe the Mind dares not fit and pronounce upon the Objects of its Veneration.
I grant Truth is in no great danger, becaufe fome Men are taken up with the Medals, Arms and Habits of the Ancients, Or with the Drefs of the Chincfe and Savages. It is not altogether un- ferviceable, to know the Map of Ancient Rome, nor the ways from Tomquin to Nanquin, though it be more ufeful to us to know thofe from London to Oxford, or from Paris to St. Germain or Versailles. In ffiort, we cannot find fault with thofe that will enquire into the Hiftory of the Wars betwixt the Greeks and Perfians, betwixt the Tartars and Chincfe-, let them have for 'l'bucydides, Xcnophon, or any other whatfoever, as much Inclinations as they pleafe. But we can- not fuffer that Admiration of Antiquity fhould lord it over Reafon; that it fhould be forbidden to make ufe of our Underftanding in examining the Opinions of the Ancients, and that the Dis- covery and Demonftration of their Errouis fhould pafs for a rafh and prefumptuous Attempt.
Truth is of all Times and Ages. If Arijlotle did difcover it, it may ftill be found out: his Opi- nions are to be proved by ftrong Reafons; for if they were folid in his time, they will be fo in ours. 'Tis to deceive our felves, to pretend to demonftrate natural Truths by humane Authorities. It may perhaps be proved, that Arijlotle has had fuch and fuch Thoughts, upon fuch and fuch Sub- jects; but 'tis a very ilender improvement of Reafon, to read Arijlotle, or any other Author, with great Diligence and Trouble, that we may hiftorically learn his Opinions, and teach them to others.
We cannot without Indignation look on fome Univerfities that were eftablifhed for the Enquiry and Defence of Truth, and are now turned into particular Sefts, and boaft of ftudying and main- taining the Opinions of fome Men. We are ready to fall into Paffion at the reading of thofe Philofophers and Phyficians, who ftore their Books with fo many Quotations, that one would rather take them for Commentaries of the Civil and Cannon Law, than for Tra&s of Natural Philofophy and Phyfick. For who can fuffer that Reafon and Experience fhould be deferted, and the Fancies of Plato, Arijlotle, Epi. urus, or any other Philofopher, blindly followed.
Such ftrange methods would perhaps ftrike us dumb with Amazement, though we were not hurt by them; I mean, though thefe Gentlemen did not impung the Truth, which alone we think our felves obliged to efpoufe: But their admiring the Dreams of the Ancients infpires them with a blind Zeal againft Truths newly difcovered; they cry them down without knowing them •, they oppofe them without underftanding them., and by the ftrength of their Imagination infufe their Sentiments into the Minds and Hearts of their Auditors and Admirers.
As they judge of thofe new Difcoveries by the Efteem they have for their Authors, and that their Contemporaries which they have feen and convers'd with, have not that big and extraordinary Appearance, which the Imagination attributes to Ancient Authdte^ fo they have no Confideration For the Modern. For the Idea of the Men of our Age raifes nothing but Contempt, becaufe it is not attended with violent and furprizing Motions.
Limners and Statuaries never reprefent Ancient Philofophers as other Men, but give them a big Head, and a broad and high Fore-head, and a long and venerable Beard. That's a good Ar- gument to prove that the Vulgar Sort has fome fuch Idea of them -, for Painters pifture things' as they reprefent them to themfelves,, and follow the Natural Motions of the Imagination -, and fo for the moft part we look on the Ancients as Uncommon Men. Whereas Imagination reprefenting Men of our Age like to thofe with whom we daily converce, and producing no extraordinary Mo- tion in the Spirits, raifes nothing in the Soul but Contempt and Indifferency towards them.
I have feen Des-Crates, faid one of thofe learned Admirers of Antiquity, I have known him, and converfed with him feveral times t, he was an honeft Man, and no Fool, but had nothing ex^ traordinary. He had fotm'd a contemptible. Idea of the Cartejian Philofophy, becaufe he had con- verfed with the Author fome minutes," and had not obferved in him thofe great and extraordinary Looks that overfway the Imagination. If he were puzzled with fome Arguments of that Philo- fopher, he proudly faid, meaning it a fufficient Anfwer, That he had known him formerly. I could wifh thofe Gentlemen might fee Arijlotle otherwife than in Pi&ure, and converfe an hour with him, provided he fhould fpeak French, or Englijh, and not Greek, and not make himfelf known, before they haddeclafd their Opinion of him.
Such things as bear the Charatter of Novelty, whether they be new in themfelves, or appear in a new Order or Situation, agitate us very much^ ftriking the Brain in places that are moft fen- fible, fihle, becaufe lealt expdfed to the Courfe of the Spirits. Such things as bear a fenfible Mark of Greatneis, do alio ftrangely move us, becaufe they ltir up a great Motion of the Spirits. But iuch as at once come attended with Characters of Novelty and Greatneis, do not limply move us: they overthrow, ravifh, Itupifie us by their violent Commotions.
for Inltance, Thole who fpeak nothing but Paradoxes attract the Admiration of weak Minds, becaufe what they fay has the Character of Novelty: thofe that fpeak by Sentences, and ule high and lofty Flights;, infpire Veneration, becaufe they feem to fay fomething great. But thofe that joyn Loftinefs to Novelty, and Greatneis to Rarity, never fail ofravifhing and itupirying the Vul- gar Sort, though they ihould fpeak but Impertinences; for that pompous and itately Nonfence, infani fulgores, thoie falfe Declamatory Glitterings for the molt part daZlethe Eyes of infirm Minds, and make fuch a lively and furprizing Impreffion upon their Imagination, that they know not where they are, that they venerate the Power that blinds 'em, and cait'em down, and admire, as fhining Truths, confufed and unexpreffible Senfations.
A Continuation of the fame SttbjeB \ What good ZJfe can be made of Admi- ration^ and other Pajpons.
AL L Paffions have two very confiderable Effects, for they apply the Mind, and win the Heart: by the former they may, by a due ufe, be made ferviceable to the Knowledge of Truth -, becaufe Application produces that light by which it is dilcovered: but the latter Effect is always diftdvan- tageous:, becaufe Paffions cannot win the Heart, but by corrupting the Reafon, and reprefenting things, not as they are in themfelves, or according to Truth, but as they are related to us.
Admiration is, of all Paffions, that which lealt affects the Heart * becaufe 'tis the Sight of things confider'd as Good or Evil, that agitates us, and that the Confideration of their Greatneis or Small- neis, without any other Relation to us, makes but little Impreffion upon us: fo that the Admirati- on that attends the Knowledge of the Greatnefs or Littlenefs of new things, we confider, corrupts the Reafon much lefs than any other Paffion •, and can even be of great ufe for the Knowledge of Truth, provided we be very careful to hinder its being followed by other Paffions, as it happens for the molt part.
In Admiration the Animal Spirits are ftrongly driven to thofe places of the Brain, that reprefent the hew Objeft as it is in it felf-, which print thereon Traces of it, diftintt and deep enough to be long continued, and confequently afford to the Mind a clear Idea, and eafie to be remembred •, and therefore it cannot be denied, but Admiration may be very ufeful to Sciences, fince it applies and en- lightens the Mind •, whereas other Paffions apply the Mind, but enlighten it not. They apply it, becaufe they raife the Animal Spirits, but enlighten it not, of enlighten it with falfe and deceiving Glimpfes, becaufe they drive thole Spirits in fuch a manner, as that they reprefent Objects, only as they are related to us, and not as they are in themfelves.
There is nothing harder, than to apply our felves a confiderable time to any thing which we ad- mire not: becaufe the Vital Spirits are not then eafily carried to places fitted to reprefent them. In vain we are exhorted to be attentive-, we can have no Attention, or none fufficiently long, though we may have an abitra£ted, but not moving Perfuafion, That the thing deierves our Application. We mult needs deceive our Imagination to quicken our Spirits, and reprefent to our felves in a new Manner, the Subje£t on which we will meditate, that we may raife in us fome Motion of Admiration.
We meet every day with Men that relifh not Study, and find nothing fo painful as the Ap- plication of Mind: They are convinced that they ought to Itudy certain Matters, and to doe their utmolt endeavours for it ^ but their endeavours are, for the molt part, vain-, their progrefs is incon- fiderable, and quickly follow'd by wearinefs. True it is that the Animal Spirits obey the order of the Will, and make us attentive, when we defire it, but when the Commanding Will is the Will qf mere Reafon, that is not kept up by ibme Paffion, it is fo weak and languifhing, that" our Ideas are like wandering Phantaims, that afford us but a tranfient glimpfe, and vanifh in a moment. Our Animal Spirits receive fo many private Orders from the Paffions, and are become by nature and habit id prone to perform them, that they are eafily turn'd from thofe new and rough ways, through which the Will endeavours to lead them. So that it is eipecially in fuch Giles, that we need a particular Grace to know the Truth, fince we cannot any confiderable time bear up the Mind againit the incumbent weight of the Body -, or if we can, yet we never doe all we are able.
But when fome Motion of Admiration quickens us, the animal Spirits naturally run to the Tracks of the Object which have railed it, reprelent it clearly to the Mind, and produce in the Brain what- ever ts requir'd to Perfpicuity and Evidence, without putting the will to the trouble of managing the rebellious Spirits. Hence it comes that thole that are prone to Admiration, are fitter to itudy than others* are qiick and ingenious, and others ilow and dull.
In the mean while, when Admiration grows to Jiich ah Excefs, as to produce Amazement and Stupefaction, or when it does not excite to rational Curioiity, it may prove of very ill Conlequenc^ becaule Chap. VIII. The Search after Tmth: becaufe the animal Spines are then taken up with representing the admired Object by pne of its Faces, without fo much as thinking on the others, which ought no lefs tbbe.Coriiider.ed. Thofe It is not enough that Admiration mould make us attentive, unlefs it makes us curious • neither is it luficient for the full knowledge of an Object, to confider one of its Faces, unlefs we be lb far jnquifitive, as to examine them all; that we may judge of it upon lure grounds. And therefore when Admiration moves us not to examine things with the utmoft Accuracy, but inftead of that flops our Enquiry, it is very unprofitable to the Knowledge of Truth, becaufe it fills up the Mind with likelihoods and probabilities, and incites us to judge rafhly and precipitately of all Admiration mull not center in its.telf, but its bufinefs is to facilitate Examination. The Ani- mal Spirits that are naturally excited in Admiration, offer themfelves to the Soul, that (lie may ufe them to reprelent the ObjecF more diftincFly to her telf, and to know it better. This is Na- ture's Inltitution, for Admiration ought to move us to Curiofity, and Curiofity to conducF us to the Knowledge of Truth: But the Soul knows not how to make an Advantage of her own Strength; fhe prefers a certain fatisfa&ory Senfation, that ffie receives from the plenty of the Spirits that affect her, before the Knowledge of the Objecl that has railed them; and (he chutes' rather to; . be confeious of her own Riches than to diihpate them by ufe; not much unlike thofe Miters who chute rather to hoard up their Treasures, than to fupply their wants with them.
Men are generally pleated with whatever raifes any kind of Pa (HI on. They not only fpend Money to be moved to Sorrow, by the Reprefentation of a Tragedy, but they alfo throw it away upon Legerdemains, that may ftir up their Admiration; fince ir cannot be faid that they give it to be deceived. Therefore that inward and fatisfacFory Senfation, which we are confeious of in Admiration, is the principal caute why we dwell upon/'/, without putting it to the ufe which Na- ture and Reafon preteribe to us. For that deleft able Senfation fo powerfully holds the Admirers Bent to the admired ObjecF, that they will fall into a Paffion, if any fhew them its Vanity. A mourning Perfon relifhes fo well the fweetriefs of Sorrow, that he's angry with thofe that go about to make him merry; The cafe is the fame with Admirers; who teem to be wounded by the En- deavours that are made to demonftrate the unreafonablenefs of their Admiration, becaufe they feel that the fecret Pleafure they receive from that Paffion, diminifhes proportionably as the Idea that caufed it vanimes from the Mind..'...*■ The Paffions perpetually labour to juftifie themfelves, and infenfibly perfuade us we doe well to be led by them. The SatisfacFion and Pleafure, with which they affecF the Mind, that is to be their Judge, draws it over by degrees to their fide, infpiring it with fuch, and the like Reafons.
* We are to judge of things but according to our Ideas.; but of all Ideas the molt tenfible are the * molt re&l, fince they acF upon us with the greateft force, and therefore 'tis by thofe Ideas that ' I muff judge of them. Now the SubjecF I admire contains a tenfible Idea of Greatnefs, I muft 4 then judge of it by that Idea, fori ought to efteem and love Greatnefs; and therefore I am in x the right when I infill: upon, and am taken up with that ObjecF. And indeed the Pleafure which \ the Contemplation of its Idea affords me is a natural proof that it is for my good to think upon ' it; fince I teem to add to my growth by fuch thoughts, and fancy that my Mind is more en-