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Author Topic: The Art of Thinking Well  (Read 117 times)

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The Art of Thinking Well
« on: Yesterday at 02:18:45 PM »
Passages from "The Art of Thinking Well", 1882, by Rev. James Balmes, Jesuit Theologian.
https://archive.org/details/theartofthinking00balmuoft/page/n1/mode/2up

I am sharing these here because we have all been affected by the modern world, in which it is no longer taught how to use the faculties of our soul properly to come to the knowledge of the truth, both as regards the Faith, and in a variety of interpersonal matters.


§ V. — To think well is of importance to everyone. We consequently find that the art of thinking well does not interest philosophers alone, but the simplest people also. The understanding is a precious gift bestowed on us by the Creator; it is the light given us to guide us in all our actions; and clearly one of man's first duties is to keep this light in good order. If it fails, we are left in the dark, and have to grope our way; and consequently we should not let it burn out. We should not allow our understanding to remain inactive, lest it become obtuse and stupid; and, on the other hand, when we want to exercise and keep it alive, we should see that its light be good and well regulated, that it may not blind or lead us astray. — Page 79


Some observations to guard against the evil influence of the heart.

There is nothing more important in the matter of thinking well, than to become thoroughly acquainted with the alterations produced in our mode of seeing things, by the disposition of mind in which we may at the moment find ourselves. And here we discover the reason why it is so difficult to rise above the times we live in, our own peculiar circuмstances, the prejudices of education, and the influence of our interests. Hence it is so hard for us to act and think conformably to the prescriptions of the eternal law, to comprehend what rises above the material world, to sacrifice the present to the future. What we have at the moment before our eyes, what affects us at the present instant, is what commonly decides our acts and our opinions. The man who wants to think well must accustom himself to be on his guard, and to keep this most important truth constantly before him; he must habituate himself to self-concentration, and must frequently ask himself: "Is your mind sufficiently tranquil? Are you not agitated by some passion which changes the look of things to you ? Are you not chained by some secret affection, which, without violently tossing your heart, softly subdues it, by means of a fascination you scarcely notice? In what you now think, judge, foresee, or conjecture, are you acting under the influence of some recent impression, which, by turning your ideas topsy-turvy, shows you objects in a false light? 

Did you think, in this way, a few days — a few moments — ago? When did you begin to modify your opinions? Is it not since some agreeable or disagreeable, favourable or adverse, event has changed your situation? Have you studied the matter better, have you acquired new data, or have you only some new interests? Which have moved you — reasons or desires? Now that you are agitated by some passion, domineered over by your affections, you judge in this way, and you think your judgment right; but if you translate yourself in imagination to a different situation, if you suppose that some time has elapsed, do you believe you would look on things in the same way, and in the same light? Let it not be imagined that this practice is impossible; anyone can test it by experience, and he shall see that it serves as an admirable guide in the direction of his understanding and the regulation of his conduct. The stimulation of our affections does not commonly go so far as to completely deprive us of the use of reason; for such cases we can prescribe nothing, for then there is mental derangement, whether passing or permanent. What the passions ordinarily do is to obfuscate our understanding, and pervert our judgment, without completely blinding the former, or destroying the latter. In the depths of the soul there is always a light, which grows dim, but does not go out; and whether it is to burn with more or less brilliancy in critical moments, depends, in great measure, on the habit of attending to it, of reflecting on our situation, of knowing how to doubt of our present aptitude to form a correct opinion, of not taking the sparks of our heart for a light to guide us, and of considering that they are only calculated to dazzle us.

— Pages 251-252


Re: The Art of Thinking Well
« Reply #1 on: Today at 05:00:00 PM »
Ill-defined words. Examination of the word "equality"

Apparently nothing is more easy than to define a word, for it is natural that the person who employs it should know what he says, and consequently be able to explain it. But experience tells us that such is not the case, and that there are very few, indeed, capable of fixing the meaning of the expressions they use. This confusion springs from confusion in ideas, and in its turn contributes to increase it. You will hear at every turn a hot argument in which the disputants show considerable ingenuity. 

Let them turn the matter inside out, let them attack and repulse each other a thousand times, like enemies in bloody battle; and then, if you wish to act as mediator, and to show how both are wrong, take up the word which expresses the subject in question, and ask each of them: — "What do you understand by this? — what meaning do you give to this word ?" Frequently you shall find that neither of the adversaries will be able to give you an answer, or that they will pronounce some vague, unconnected expressions, showing clearly that you have taken them by surprise, that they did not expect an attack on this flank, and that this is perhaps the first time, and now probably against their will, they have rendered to themselves an account of the meaning of a word which they have been employing hundreds of times in the last quarter of an hour, and making infinite applications of. 

But suppose this does not happen, and that each gives with facility and without hesitation the explanation you ask, in this case you may be certain that the one will not accept the definition of the other, and the disagreement, which before turned, or appeared to turn, on the subject in question, will now be translated to new ground, and the new dispute will be about the meaning of a word. I have said, "or appeared to turn", for if you followed the course of the discussion, you must have seen that under the name of the thing, was frequently concealed the signification of the word. There are certain words expressing a general idea, applicable to numerous and various objects, and employed in different senses, which would appear invented on purpose to confound. Everyone uses them, everyone knows what he signifies by them, but each in his own way, from which there results a gibberish very annoying to good thinkers.

"The equality of men," says a demagogue, "is a law established by God Himself. We are all born weeping, we all expire with a sigh: nature makes no distinction between the poor and the rich, the plebeian and the nobleman; and religion tells us that we have all the same origin and the same end. Equality is the work of God; inequality, the production of man. The genius of evil alone could introduce into the world those hateful inequalities, of which the human race is the victim; ignorance and the want of all feeling of self-dignity could alone tolerate them." 

These words do not sound badly in the ears of pride; and it cannot be denied that there is something plausible in them. The orator utters capital errors and primary truths; he confounds the latter with the former; and his discourse, so seductive to the incautious, is ridiculous gibberish in the eyes of a good thinker. What is the cause of this? He employs the word "equality" in very different senses, and applies it to things as far apart as heaven is from earth; and then, with perfect security, as if there were not the slightest fear of mistake, draws a general conclusion.

If you want to upset all he has said, you have only to ask: —

What do you mean by equality?
What do I mean by equality ? . . . the thing is clear enough in itself.
No matter, I want you to tell me.
Equality consists in one not being more or less than another.
But you must see that this may be taken in several senses; for two men six feet high will be equal in stature, but may be unequal in everything else, for example, if the one be pot-bellied like the governor of the island of Barataria, and the other as lean as the Knight of the Sad Figure. Besides, the two men may be equal or unequal in learning, virtue, nobleness of sentiment, and a thousand other things; so that it will be well for us to understand exactly what acceptation you give to the word equality.

I speak of the equality of nature, of the equality established by the Creator Himself, whose laws are not to be tampered with by man.
So that you only mean that men are by nature equal . . .
Certainly.
I know; but I see that nature makes some men robust, others feeble; some handsome, others ugly; some active, others lazy; to some she gives quiet dispositions, to others violent ones, to some — but I should never end if I were to mention all the inequalities which come from nature. Where, then, is the natural equality of which you speak?
But those inequalities do not destroy the equality of rights . . .

Well, leaving aside the fact that you have completely changed the state of the question, abandoning, or very much restricting, the equality of nature, I may say, that the equality of rights has its own difficulties. Do you think a child of five or six years, has the right to quarrel with or chastise its own father ?
Ah! you are talking absurdities . . .
No, sir, I am not: equality of rights demands all this; and if not, you should tell us what rights you speak of: to which of our rights equality applies, and to which it does not.
Well, I think you should know we are talking now of social equality.
You did not speak of it alone; but a moment ago, in your discourse, you spoke in general and absolutely, and now when driven out of one trench, you take refuge in another. But let us go to social equality. This should mean that in society we should all be equal. Now I ask, in what should we be equal. In authority? Then there is no government possible. In property? Very well; let us cast justice aside, and make the division. At the end of an hour, one gambler will have lightened the purse of another, and they will be unequal; after a few days, the industrious man will have increased his capital, and the lazy fellow will have wasted part of what he received; and we are back into inequality. The division is repeated a thousand times, and a thousand times the fortunes become unequal. Is the equality to be in respect? But will you appreciate and respect the rogue equally with the honest man ? Will you place as much confidence in the one as in the other? Will the same business be entrusted to an ignorant boor as to a Metternich? And even though he tried, could one man do all another could?

That is impossible; but what is not impossible is equality in the eye of the law.
New retreat, new trench; let us see. The law says: " The person who does such a thing will be fined £ 10, in default of which he will get ten days' imprisonment." The rich man pays his £ 10, and laughs at the magistrate; the poor man has not a farthing, and must spend the time inside the prison bars. Where is the equality in the eye of the law?
But I would change all that, and establish such penalties as would avoid this inequality.
But then the fines would disappear, which go to fill up vacuums in the Budget and relieve the Treasury. Besides, I am going to show you that your pretended equality is not possible in any supposition. Let us suppose that the sum of £100 is the penalty of a certain transgression; two men have incurred it, and both have the means of paying; but the one is a rich banker, and the other a struggling tradesman. The banker will laugh over the £100, and the tradesman will be ruined. Is the penalty equal?
Certainly not; but how would you remedy it ?
I should not try by any means; and that is exactly what I want to show you — that inequality is without remedy. If we suppose the penalty a corporal one, we shall find the same inequality. Imprisonment or exposure to public shame, is a penalty which a man wanting in education and dignity of sentiments, will suffer with perfect indifference; and a criminal of a certain rank would prefer death a thousand times to it. The penalty should be appreciated, not for what it is in itself, but for the injury it causes the sufferer, and the impression it makes on him ; for otherwise the two objects of chastisement would disappear — expiation and warning. Therefore, the same penalty, applied to criminals of different ranks, has no equality except in name, and involves a monstrous inequality. You will confess with me that in these difficulties there is much that is irremediable; then let us acknowledge the sad necessity, and give up talking about an equality which is impossible. The definition of a word, and the discernment of the different applications which could be made of it, enabled us to pulverise a plausible sophism, and to demonstrate to evidence, that the pompous orator either uttered absurdities, or said nothing we did not all know before; for it is no great discovery to tell us we all come to the world, and leave it, in the same way.

— Page 186-192 Chapter XIV, Judgement