Page:Littell's Living Age - Volume 129.djvu/131

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
MAXIMS AND REFLECTIONS.
123

but beat on burning coals; these are scattered abroad and inflame, when otherwise they would not have produced any effect.

Man were not the noblest creature on the earth if he were not too noble for it.

One must leave certain minds in undisturbed possession of their idiosyncrasies.

Works of a certain order are now produced which are null and void without being absolutely bad; null for want of substance, yet not bad, as their authors had the general outline of good models in their mind's eye.

He who shirks the idea ends by becoming incapable of forming conceptions.

We justly call those men our masters from whom we always learn; but not every one of whom we learn deserves this title.

Lyrical work ought to be full of reason as a whole, and a little unreasonable in detail.

You are all of you like the ocean, which, distinguished by different appellations, is, after all, nothing but salt water.

Empty self-praise is said to smell amiss; that may be, but the public has no nose for the detection of unjust blame of others.

The novel is a subjective epic, in which the author asks permission to manipulate the world in his particular manner; all that concerns us, therefore, is to ask whether he has such a manner, and the rest follows of itself.

There are problematical natures unfit for every condition in which they are placed and satisfied with none. Thence arises the monstrous conflict which consumes life without enjoyment.

The real good we do occurs chiefly clam, vi, et precario (i.e. secretly, perforce, and accidentally).

It is difficult to be just to the present moment; if indifferent, it bores us; the good one has to carry, and the bad to drag along.

I should say the happiest man is he who can link the end of his life with its commencement.

Man is of so obstinately contradictory a nature that he will not allow himself to be forced to his own advantage, yet suffers constraints of all kinds which tend to his harm.

Foresight is simple, afterthought very complicated.

There must be something wrong about a condition which involves one in fresh troubles every day.

Nothing is more common when on the point of committing an imprudent action than to be on the look-out for a possible escape.

It is with true opinions which one has the courage to utter as with pawns first advanced on the chessboard: they may be beaten, but they have inaugurated a game which must be won.

It is as certain as it is wonderful that truth and error spring from the same source; we must often, therefore, beware of injuring error lest we injure truth at the same time.

Truth appertains to man, while error is of time. It was, therefore, remarked of an extraordinary man: "Le malheur des tems a causé son erreur, mats la force de son âme l'en a fait sortir avec gloire."

Everybody has peculiarities which he cannot get rid of; and yet, however harmless they may be, they are frequently the cause of a man's failure.

He who seems not to himself more than he is, is more than he seems.

In art and science no less than in action, everything depends on the object being clearly apprehended and treated conformably to the law of its nature.

When we find sensible and ingenious persons judging meanly of science in their old age, the reason simply is, that their expectations regarding it and themselves had been pitched too high.

I pity those who bewail the mutability of things, and who lose themselves in speculations concerning the nothingness of the world: what are we here for, if not to make the transitory lasting, and this is only possible if we can estimate both at their true value.

What the French call tournure is nothing but conceit softened by grace. This may convince us that Germans cannot possibly have tournure: for their conceit is hard and crude, their gentleness mild and humble; and, as one quality thus excludes the other, they can never be blended.

Nobody looks any longer at the rainbow which has lasted a quarter of an hour.

It has often happened to me, and does still, that a work of art displeases me on a first inspection, because I am not up to its mark; but if I suspect that it has merits I endeavour to penetrate its secret, and I then invariably make the most delightful