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Delsarte System of Oratory by Various



V >> Various >> Delsarte System of Oratory

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authorized to define reason. He did it in terms at once so simple, so
precise, and of such exquisite clarity, that we may venture to think
that reason itself could not have better rendered the terms of its own
entity.

This definition, let no one fail to see, contains in its extreme brevity
more substance than would fill a voluminous treatise. This, then, is his
definition:

_Reason is the discursive form of the intellect._

Now by this St. Thomas plainly establishes that reason, distinct from
the intellect, with which we must beware of confounding it, proceeds
from it as effect proceeds from cause. Therefore, intellect surpasses
reason as its principiant and guiding faculty; and reason only figures
in the intelligential sphere, despite the important part it plays in
virtue of its adjunctive or supplementing power.

But what is the purpose of this adjunction? Here, in reply to this grave
and important question, let us refer to what the same scholar says
elsewhere. "Reason arises," he says, "from the failure of intellect."
Certainly this is a luminous, and doubtless a very unexpected
proposition. From it we learn, on the one hand, that the intellect is
liable to defects and consequently to weaknesses; on the other hand, it
seems established that the adjunctive power comes to aid the faculty
which governs it, since here the subjected is born of the failure of
the subjector.

Let us explain this fresh anomaly. We have in the first place declared
the preceding proposition luminous in spite of the obscurity into which
we are plunged by the consequences which we have derived from it; but,
patience! We are already aware that it is from the very obscurity of
things that the brightest light sometimes bursts upon contemplative
eyes; and since faith is the next principle to knowledge, let us have
faith at least in the trustworthiness of him who addresses us,
especially as he has given us repeated, unequivocal tokens of sound and
upright reason. Let us, then, have no doubt that the preceding
proposition contains a precious precept; and very certainly light will
soon dawn on our mind.

This settled, and for the better understanding of the meaning attached
to this proposition, let us call to our aid the powers of analogy.

If reason arises from the failure of intellect it is doubtless to
rectify the valuations of the ego. Now the _compass_, which is in itself
very inferior to the hand which fashions it and appropriates it to its
own use, nevertheless implies a defect in that hand which directs it. So
there is between the eye and the telescope, which comes to its aid, all
the distance that divides the faculty from the instrument which it
governs. Still the telescope joined to the eye communicates to it a
great power of vision; but the instrument arises from the failure of
the eye, which is nevertheless infinitely superior to it; for it is the
eye which sees, and not the telescope.

It is thus that we must understand the relations of reason and
intellect. Let us say, then, that the reason is to the intellect exactly
what the telescope is to the eye. This established, we can formulate the
following definition as well founded.

The intellect is the spiritual eye whose mysterious telescope reason
forms, or: reason is a necessary appendage of mental optics, or again:
reason is the glass used by the eye of a defective intellect.

But this is not all. St. Thomas provides us still elsewhere with the
means of making our analogy more striking. He says, indeed: reason is
given us to make clear that which is not evident. Is not this, as it
were, the seal of truth applied to our demonstration? Thus the eye uses
the telescope absolutely as the intellect employs the reason, to make
clear that which is not evident.

Of course it is plain that if the sight and the intellect answered
perfectly to their object, they could do without this adjunct which
betrays their imperfection. The intellect would thenceforth have no more
need of reason than the eye of glasses.

This explains the fact, so important to consider, that the clearer the
mental vision is the less one reasons. The angels do not reason; they
see clearly what is troubled and confused by our mind. No one reasons in
heaven, there is no logician there, no--Intelligence is immortal, but
reason, which serves it here below, will fade away in eternity with the
senses which like it do but form the conditions of time.

Divine reason alone will endure because it has nothing accidental, and
it is substantially united to the eternal word. It is that reason toward
which all blest intelligences will finally gravitate. Hence, we see that
what already partakes of the celestial life repels reasoning as a cause
of imperfection or infirmity. It is thus, by its exclusion of reasons,
that the Gospel supremely proves its celestial origin. It is, indeed, a
thing well worth remark, especially worthy of our admiration, that there
is not to be found, in the four Gospels, a single piece of reasoning,
any more than there is an interjection to be found.

Let us add that faith does not reason: which does not mean, as so many
misbelievers feign, that faith is fulfilled by blindness or ignorance of
the objects of its veneration. Quite the contrary. Faith dispenses with
reason because of the perfection of its sight. It is, finally, because
it is superior to reason and sees things from a higher plane. This is
what so many short-sighted people cannot see; and, to return to our
analogy, it seems to them able to see nothing save through the glasses
of reason. It seems to them, I say, that any man who does not wear
glasses must see crooked. Keep your glasses, my good souls! They suit
short limits of sight. But we, who, thank God, have sound sight, are
only troubled and clouded by them.

It is thus that reason, which is given us to make clear what is not
evident, frequently obscures even the very evidence itself. We might
confirm this declaration by a thousand examples. To cite but one, let us
point out how plainly the spectacle of the universe of thought and the
idea of a Divine Creator prove that no glasses are required to
contemplate God in His works. Well! scientists have felt obliged to
direct theirs upon these simple notions, and have thus, _i.e._, by force
of reasoning, succeeded in confusing out of all recognition a question
sparkling with evidence, so much so that they will fall into such a
state of blindness that they can no longer see in this world any trace
of the Supreme Intelligence which is yet manifested with glory in the
least of His creatures. Consequently, they will bluntly deny the
existence of God; but as they still must needs admit a creative cause,
they have to that end invented _moving atoms_ and have made from these
strange corpuscles something so perfectly invisible that they can spare
themselves the trouble of providing public curiosity with a living proof
of their theory.

The scientist is born perverted, as was said of the Frenchman who
created the vaudeville; and men, too strong-minded and above all too
full of reason to give any credence to the mysteries taught by the
church, have displayed a blind faith in respect to _moving atoms_. They
think thus to set themselves free from what they call the prejudices of
their fathers. They find no difficulty in attributing to invisible
corpuscles both the plan and the execution of the beings who people the
universe.

This is the fine conception attributed to what is called a higher
reason--a conception before which bow legions of strong minds. To such a
degree of degradation can reason drag man down.

It is, therefore, dangerous to consult the reason in any case where
evidence is likely to be called into play. But, before proceeding
farther in the course of our demonstrations, a question presents itself.
It may be asked what we think of another kind of reason--_pure reason_;
for it appears that in the opinion of certain philosophers pure reason
does exist. I do not know where they authenticated and studied this
species of reason. For myself I confess in all humility that not only
have I never seen a pure reason, but it has never even been possible for
me to raise my mind to the point of comprehending the signification of
pure reason. I greatly fear that some nonsense lurks within the phrase,
such transcendental nonsense as belongs to ideological philosophers
alone. I know not why, but these gentlemen's pure reason always gives me
the sensation of a strong blast of _moving atoms_. In fact, it is not
clear; but why require clarity of philosophers and ideologists?

But let us leave these senseless words and pursue the course of our
demonstrations.

What we have said of reason is quite sufficient to prevent its
confusion with the faculty whose discursive form it is. But this is not
enough. We must, by still more delicate distinctions, make any confusion
between these two terms impossible.

Reason, although essentially allied to intelligence, is not, like it,
primordial in man. Thus God created man intelligent, and consequently
susceptible of reason; but we do not see the word reason brought into
play in Genesis, because it merely expresses a derivation from the mind
or intellect. Reason, therefore, is secondary and posterior in the
genetic order. But here to the support of this assertion we have a
striking and undeniable proof; namely, that the infant is born
intelligent but not reasonable. Intellect proceeds directly from _that
true light which shines in every man on his entrance into the world_,
while reason is merely the fruit of experience. A proof of the
superiority of intelligence to reason is seen in the fact that it
partakes of the immutable, and is not like the latter, liable to
progress.

Thus the child is seen to be as intelligent as an adult man can be. Let
us rather say that it is in the child especially that intelligence
displays its brightest rays. Yet he is not furnished with reason. And
why not? Because he has no experience. Reason, therefore, is an acquired
power, whose light is borrowed from experience or tradition.

Reason is proportional to the experience acquired. Practical reason or
rationality is the ration or portion of experience allotted to each
person.

Reason is to the mental vision exactly what the eye is to optical
vision, and just as the eye borrows its visual action from external
light, so reason borrows its power of clear and correct vision from
traditional experience. The similarity is absolute.

Suppress light, and vision ceases to be possible. Suppress revelation
from intellectual objects, and reason is thenceforth blind.

Between reason and intelligence, although there be inclusion and
co-essentiality in these terms, there is a great difference in the mode
of cognizance; for, as St. Augustine says, intelligence is shown by
simple perception, and reason by the discursive process. Thus, while
intelligence acts simply, as in knowing an intelligible truth by the
light of its own intuition, reason goes toward its end progressively,
from one thing known to another not yet known.

The latter, as St. Thomas says, implies an imperfection. The former, on
the contrary, beseems a perfect being. It is, therefore, evident, adds
the same profound thinker, that reasoning bears the same relation to
knowledge that motion does to repose, or as acquisition to possession.
The one is of an imperfect nature, and the other of a perfect nature.
Boethius compares the intellect to eternity; reason, to time.

Yet human reason, according to the principle which illuminates it,
offers three degrees of elevation which we will distinguish, for
readier comprehension, by three special terms, namely: first, tradition
or the experience of another; second, personal experience; third, the
reason of things.

Trained by tradition, reason is called _common sense_. Trained by
personal experience to the knowledge of principles, reason is called
_science_. Trained by the contemplation of principles to the perfection
of the intellect, reason is called _wisdom_.

What we call practical reason is based upon the authority of tradition
and the lessons of other people's experience in regard to the customary
and moral matters of life.

Speculative or discursive reason judges by the criterion of its own
experience; thereby inferring consequences more or less in conformity
with traditional teachings, and arriving by the logical order of its
deductions and in virtue of the principles which it accepts and which it
applies to its discoveries, at what we call science.

Transcendental reason pursues, in the effects which it examines, the
investigation of their cause, and rises thence to the very reason of
things. Wherefore it silences reasoning, enters into a silent and
persistent course of observation, consults the facts, examines, studies
and questions the principles whence it sees them to be deduced; and,
without yielding to the obscurity in which these principles are
enveloped, pierces that obscurity by the penetrative force of
unremitting attention. Inspired by the standard of faith, it knows that
the spirit of God exists at the root of these mysteries. It clings
thereto, unites itself thereto by contemplation, and finally draws from
this union its _strength_, its _light_ and its _joy_.

Such is the course of wisdom, and such are the inestimable advantages of
faith to reason. It is in fact by faith that reason is aggrandized and
elevated to the height of the intellect whence it draws its certitude.

Reason believes because it desires to understand, and because it knows
that faith is the next principle to knowledge.

Thus the grandeur of reason is proportioned to its humility;
proportioned, I would say, to the efforts which it multiplies to forget
itself when the truth addresses it. But such is not the method of
procedure of "strong minds." They have a horror of the mysteries toward
which they are still urged by correct instincts. The fact is, let us say
it boldly, they fear lest they find God there.

In these misguided spirits there is so much presumption, self-conceit,
self-love, that they are, in the nullity of their lofty pride, a worship
unto themselves, an idolatry of their own reason. They have deified
it,--that poor, frail reason; and this, while mutilating it, while
proclaiming it independent and free from all law, from all principle,
from everything definite.

To what excess of imbecility, then, have we not seen these freethinkers
fall, these apostles of independent reason, who on principle boast that
they have no faith and no law! Thence comes the scorn which afflicts
these unbelievers for all who believe and hope here below; thence, their
systematic ignorance of fundamental questions; thence, the incurable
blindness in which they bask; thence, finally, the inconsistencies and
contradictions which make them a spectacle humiliating to the human
mind.

But agnostic man labors in vain. He cannot escape the mysteries which
surround him on every hand, like a gulf in which reason is inevitably
lost so soon as it ceases to seek the light.

Man stumbles at every turn against the efforts of a stronger reason than
his own,--the Supreme Reason before which, nilly nilly, his must bow and
confess the insanity of its judgments.

Logic is not, to reason, a sure guide; and even where it feels its
foothold most strong, it sometimes trips, to the disgrace of the good
opinion it had of its own infallibility.

Let us show by a simple example to what rebuffs our reason is exposed
when counting on the support of its logic, face to face with the reason
of facts.

Undoubtedly it is logical and perfectly in conformity with reason, to
say that _one_ and _one_ make _two_. No doubt seems possible on that
point. Well, this elementary truth, the most undeniable in the eyes of
all men which can be produced, does not, despite the assurances which
seem to uphold it, constitute an impregnable axiom; for there are cases
when _one_ and _one_ do not make _two_! Certainly such a proposition
seems scarcely reasonable, for its admission would entail the reversal
of what are called the sound notions of logic! But what will the
logician say if I affirm that in a certain case, _one_ and _one_ make
but _one-half_? Would he even take the trouble to refute me? No, he
would laugh in my face; he would not listen to me; he would tax me with
absurdity and insanity, preferring thus to lose a chance of instruction
rather than confess the impotence of his logic.

There is the evil, and it is generally in this way that ignorance is
perpetuated. But let us return to the fact which we desire to prove,
contrary to logic and the pretensions of ordinary reason.

Now, it is logical and perfectly in conformity with reason to say that
two musical instruments make more noise than one; and that thus two
double basses, for example, tuned in unison and placed side by side,
produce one sound of a double intensity. This seems an elementary
matter. It is as clear, you say, as that one and one make two. Well, no,
it is not so clear as you suppose. It is, on the contrary, a mistake;
for attentive experiment proves that the result is diametrically
opposite to the logical conclusion.

This is a fact which no argument can destroy. Two double basses, placed
in the above-named conditions--conditions of vicinity and tonal
identity--far from adding up their individual result, are thus reduced
each to a quarter of its own sonority, which in the sum total, instead
of producing a double sound, produces a sound reduced to half of that
given individually by each instrument taken alone. This is how a power
plus an analogous power equals together with it but half a power; and
thus we are forced to admit that one and one do not necessarily make
two.

I have carried the experiment still farther; in the instrument which
gained me a first-class medal at the exhibition of 1854, I was enabled
to put thirty-six strings of the same piano into unison at once. Well!
All these strings, struck simultaneously, did not attain to the
intensity of sound produced by one of them struck singly. All these
sounds, far from gaining strength by union, reciprocally neutralized one
another. This is not logical, I admit; but we must submit to it.

Logic must be silent and reason bow before the brutal force of a fact to
which there is no objection to be raised.

Since we are on the subject of the phenomena of sonority, let us draw
another illustration from it, quite as overwhelming in its illogicalness
as the former.

When two similar phenomena differ from one another on any side, the
discord brought about by this difference is more apparent and more
striking by reason of the closer conjunction of these phenomena. By way
of compensation the dissimilarity is less appreciable in proportion as
these phenomena are farther apart from each other.

This is rigorously logical and perfectly conformable to reason; yet
there are cases where we must affirm the contrary. Thus the same sound
produced, I will suppose, by two flutes not in accord with one another,
forms those disagreeable pulsations in the air which discordant sounds
inevitably produce. There seems to be no doubt that by gradually
bringing these discordant instruments together, the falseness of their
relation must be more and more striking, more and more intolerable.
Wrong! For then, and above all if the mouths of these instruments be
concentrically directed, a mutual translocation is produced between the
two discordant sounds, which restores the accuracy of their agreement.
Thus the lower sound is raised, while the higher one is lowered, in such
a way that the two sounds are mingled on meeting and form a perfect
unison. Now, here are contrasts, which, contrary to all rational data,
so far from being exaggerated by contact, diminish gradually, until they
are utterly annihilated. Thus, then, given two instruments of the same
nature, if the harmony which they effect be true, they enter by reason
of their conjunction into a negative state which neutralizes their
sonority; while the contrary occurs in the case of false unison. Here
the instruments become identical with one another, the sonority is
increased and the tonal deviation is corrected to the most perfect
harmony.

Obstinate rationalists, what is your logic worth here? Has it armed you
against the surprises held in store for you by a multitude of facts
inaccordant with your reasonings? Oh, proud and haughty reason, bow your
head! Confess the inanity of your ways. Bow yet, once again, and
contemplate the mystery whence luminous instruction shall beam for you!

At bottom these mysteries may surprise and baffle a reason deprived of
principle; but they are never contrary to it, because they proceed from
reason itself, from that Supreme Reason which created us in its own
image; and, by that very fact, is always in accord with individual
reason in so far as this will consent to sacrifice its own prejudices to
it, or listen to its infallible lessons.

But man's reason most frequently heeds itself alone. Thence, once again,
arise its infirmities. Thus, what will happen, if, because the truths
which I utter here are obscure and do not at the first glance appear to
conform to the requirements of logic, you hastily reject them with all
the loftiness of your scornful reason, which would blush to admit what
it did not understand! Poor reason! which in and of itself understands
so little, and admits so many follies as soon as a scholar affirms them.
The consequence will be that you will be strengthened in the error which
flatters your ignorance. Behold that proud reason which would never
bend before a mystery revealed, behold it, I say, bowed beneath the
weight of prejudices, which there will be more than one scholar, more
than one logician, ready to endorse.

Thus reason will refuse as unworthy itself, all belief in the actions of
God or of unseen spirits, the angels, heaven, but will not dare to doubt
the existence of _moving atoms_, invisible corpuscles. This is the
mental poverty into which the enemies of religious faith unwittingly
fall. They pervert that instrument of reason whose true use is to
supplement and fortify imperfect intelligence, and misuse it to
discredit and overthrow the original intuitions of intelligence.




Random Notes.



Type--Man.
Prototype--Angel.
Archetype--God.

It is within himself that man should find the reason of all he studies.
In the angels he should find the secret of his being: they are his
prototypes. Lastly, it is in the Divine archetype that we are to look
for the universal reason.

* * * * *

_The Senses._

Taste and smell say: It is _Good_.
Sight and touch say: It is _Beautiful_.
Hearing and speech say: It is _True_.

* * * * *

Every agreeable or disagreeable sight makes the body reaect backward. The
degree of reaction should be in proportion to the degree of interest
caused by the sight of the object presented to our sight.

* * * * *

The _soul_ is a triple virtue, which, by means of the powers that it
governs, forms, develops and modifies the sum total of the constituent
forces of the body.

The _body_ is that combination of co-penetrating forces whose inherent
powers govern all acts under the triple impulse of the constituent
forces of the being.

The _immanences_ are powers which, under the impulse of the constituent
virtues of the being, govern and modify the co-penetrating forces of the
body.

The _powers_ govern the forces under the impulse of the virtues.

The _virtues_ are the impulses under the sway of which the powers govern
and direct the forces.

* * * * *

Light is the symbol of order, of peace, of virtue.

* * * * *

Science and art form two means of assimilation: The one by means of
absorption, the other by means of emanation. The one, more generous than
the other, gives and communicates; the other unceasingly receives and
appeals. Science receives, art gives. By science man assimilates the
world; by art he assimilates himself to the world. Assimilation is to
science what incarnation is to art.

If science perpetuates things in us, art perpetuates us in things and
causes us to survive therein.

If by science man makes himself preeminent in subjugating the things of
this world, by art he renders them supernatural by impressing upon them
the living characters of his being and of his soul.

Art is an act by which life lives again in that which in itself has no
life.

Art should move the secret springs of life, convince the mind and
persuade the heart.

* * * * *

Beauty purifies the sense,
Truth illuminates the mind,
Virtue sanctifies the soul.

* * * * *

The more lofty the intellect, the more simple the speech. (So in art.)

* * * * *

Accent is the modulation of the soul.

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