Part 8 (1/2)
”Eloquence is a picture of thought; and thus those who, after having drawn a picture, still go on, make a tableau and not a likeness.
”Eloquence is the art of saying things in such a manner-first, that those to whom they are addressed can understand them without trouble and with pleasure; and secondly, that they may be interested in them in such a way that their _amour propre_ may lead them gladly to reflect upon them. It consists, therefore, in a correspondence established between the mind and heart of the hearers on the one side, and the thoughts and expressions used on the other, and so implies a close study of the human heart in order to know all its springs, and to find the due measures of speech to address to it. It must confine itself, as far as possible, to the simplicity of nature, and not make great what is small, nor small what is great. It is not enough that a thing be fine, it must be fitting,-neither in excess nor defect.”
”Eloquence should prevail by gentle suasion, not by constraint. It should reign, not tyrannise.
”There are some who speak well, and who do not write well. The place-the a.s.sembly-excites them, and draws forth their mind more than they ever experience without such excitement.”
”Those who make ant.i.theses by forcing the sense are like men who make false windows for the sake of symmetry. Their rule is not to speak correctly, but to make correct figures.”
”There should be in eloquence always what is true and real; but that which is pleasing should itself be the real.”
”When we meet with the natural style we are surprised and delighted, for we expected to find an author, and we find a man; whilst those of good taste who in looking into a book think to find a man, are altogether surprised to find an author. _Plus poetice quam humane locutus es_. They honour nature most who teach her that she can speak best on all subjects-even on theology.”
”There are men who always dress up nature. No mere king with them, but an august monarch. No Paris, but the capital of the kingdom.
There are places in which it is necessary to call Paris Paris; others, where we must call it the capital of the kingdom.”
”When in composition we find a word repeated, and on trying to correct it find it so suitable that a change would spoil the sense, it is better to let it alone. This stamps it as fitting, and it is a stupid feeling which does not recognise that repet.i.tion in such a case is not a fault; for there is no universal rule.
”The meaning itself changes with the words which express it. The meaning derives its dignity from the words, instead of imparting it to them.”
”The last thing that we discover in writing a book is to know what to put at the beginning.
”When a discourse paints a pa.s.sion or effect naturally, we find in ourselves the truth of what we hear, which was there without our knowing it, so that we are led to like the man who discovers so much to us. For he does not show us his own good, but ours; and this good turn makes him lovable. Besides that, the community of intelligence we have with him necessarily inclines the heart towards him.
”Let none allege that I have said nothing new. The arrangement of the matter is new. When we play at tennis, both play with the same ball; but one plays better than the other. They might as well accuse me of using old words, as if the same thoughts differently arranged would not form a different discourse; just as the same words differently arranged express different thoughts.
”There is a definite standard of taste and beauty, which consists in a certain relation between our nature-it may be weak or strong, but such as it is-and the thing that pleases us. All that is formed to this standard delights us,-house, song, writing, verse, prose, women, buds, rivers, trees, rooms, dress, etc. All that is not formed by this standard disgusts men of good taste.
”I never judge of the same thing exactly in the same manner. I cannot judge of my work in the course of doing it. I must do as painters do, place myself at a distance from it, but not too far.
How then? You may guess.”
We do not look to Pascal especially for worldly insight, or for that sharp knowledge of men that make the sayings of clever social writers like Rochefoucauld or Horace Walpole memorable, if not always wise or kind. But there are many of the Thoughts which show that the penitent of Port Royal had looked with clear observant eyes below the surface of Paris society, and that he had a deep sense not only of the moral but the social weaknesses of humanity.
”When pa.s.sion leads us towards anything, we forget duty; as we like a book we read it, while we ought to be doing something else. In order to be reminded of our duty, it is necessary to propose to do something that we dislike; then we excuse ourselves on the ground that we have something else to do, and so we recollect our duty by this means.
”How wisely are men distinguished by their exterior rather than by their interior qualifications! Which of us two shall take the lead?
Which shall yield precedence? The man of less talent? But I am as clever as he. Then we must fight it out. But he has four lackeys and I have only one. That is a visible difference. We have only to count the numbers. It is my place then to give way, and I am a fool to contest the point. In this way peace is kept, which is the greatest of blessings.
”There is a great advantage in rank, which gives to a man of eighteen or twenty a degree of acceptance, publicity, and respect which another can hardly obtain by merit at fifty. It is a gain of thirty years without any trouble.
”Respect for others requires you to inconvenience yourself. This seems foolish, yet it is very proper. It seems to say, I would gladly inconvenience myself if you really required me to do so, seeing I am ready to do so without serving you.
”'This is _my_ dog,' say children; 'that sunny seat is mine.' There is the beginning and type of the usurpation of the whole earth.
”This _I_ is hateful. You, Miton, {171} merely cover it, you do not take it away; you are therefore always hateful. Not at all, you say; for if we act obligingly to all men, they have no reason to hate us.
So far true, if there was nothing hateful in the _I_ itself but the displeasure which it gives. But if I hate it because it is essentially unjust, because it makes itself the centre of everything, I shall hate it always. In short, this _I_ has two qualities: it is unjust in itself, in that it makes itself the centre of everything; it is an annoyance to others, in that it would serve itself by them.
Each _I_ is the enemy, and would be the tyrant, of all others.
”He who would thoroughly know the vanity of men has only to consider the causes and effects of love. The cause is a _je ne sais quoi_, an indefinable trifle-the effects are monstrous. If the nose of Cleopatra had been a little shorter, it would have changed the history of the world.