Part III, Chapter 20: Of the Bad Reasonings which are common in Civil Life and in Ordinary Discourse (third part)
Men not only love to be fortunate as much as to be wise, but they make no distinction between the fortunate and the wise, nor between the unfortunate and the guilty. This distinction is too subtile for them. We are ingenious in finding out the faults which we imagine have produced the want of success; and as astrologers, when they know a given event, fail not to discover the aspect of the stars which produced it, so also we never fail to find, after disgraces and misfortune, that those who have met with them have deserved them by some imprudence. He is unsuccessful, therefore he is in fault. In this way the world reasons, and in this way it has always reasoned, because there has always been little equity in the judgments of men, and because, not knowing the true causes of things, they substitute others according to the event, by praising those who are successful, and blaming those who are not.
But there are no false reasonings more common amongst men than those into which they fall, either by judging rashly of the truth of things from some authority insufficient to assure them of it, or by deciding the inward essence by the outward manner. We call the former the sophism of authority, the latter the sophism of the manner.
To understand how common these are, it is only necessary to consider that the majority of men are determined to believe one opinion rather than another, not by any solid and essential reasons which might lead them to know the truth, but by certain exterior and foreign marks which are more consonant to, or which they judge to be consonant to, truth, than to falsehood.
The reason of this is, that the interior truth of things is often deeply hidden; that the minds of men are commonly feeble and dark, full of clouds and false light, while their outward marks of truth are clear and sensible; so that, as men naturally incline to that which is easiest, they almost always range themselves on the side where they see those exterior marks of truth which are readily discovered.
These may be reduced to two principles,—the authority of him who propounds the thing, and the manner in which it is propounded. And these two ways of persuading are so powerful that they carry away almost all minds.
Wherefore God, who willed that the sure knowledge of the mysteries of faith might be attained by the simplest of the faithful, has had the condescension to accommodate himself to this weakness of the spirit of man, in not making this to depend on the particular examination of all the points which are proposed to faith; but in giving us, as the certain rule of truth, the authority of the church universal, which proposes them, which, being clear and evident, relieves the mind of the perplexities which necessarily arise from the particular discussion of these mysteries.
Thus, in matters of faith, the authority of the church universal is entirely decisive; and so far is it from being possible that it should be liable to error, that we fall into it only when wandering from its authority, and refusing to submit ourselves to it.
We may derive, moreover, convincing arguments in matters of religion from the manner in which they are advanced. When we see, for example, in different ages of the church, and principally in the last, men who endeavour to propagate their opinions by bloodshed and the sword; when we see them arm themselves against the church by schism, against temporal powers by revolt; when we see people without the common commission, without miracles, without any external marks of piety, and with the plain marks rather of licentiousness, undertake to change the faith and discipline of the church in so criminal a manner, it is more than sufficient to make reasonable men reject them, and to prevent the most ignorant from listening to them.
But in those things, the knowledge of which is not absolutely necessary, and which God has left more to the discernment of the reason of each one in particular, the authority and the manner are not so important, and they often lead many to form judgments contrary to the truth.
We do not undertake to give here the rules and the precise limits of the respect which is due to authority in human things, we simply indicate some gross faults which are committed in this matter.
We often regard only the number of the witnesses, without at all considering whether the number increases the probability of their having discovered the truth, which is, however, unreasonable; for, as an author of our time has wisely remarked, in difficult things, which each must discover for himself, it is more likely that a single person will discover the truth than that many will. Thus the following is not a valid inference: this opinion is held by the majority of philosophers; it is, therefore, the truest.
We are often persuaded, by certain qualities which have no connection with the truth, of the things which we examine. Thus there are a number of people who trust implicitly to those who are older, and who have had more experience, even in those things which do not depend on age or experience, but on the clearness of the mind.
Piety, wisdom, moderation, are, without doubt, the most estimable qualities in the world, and they ought to give great authority to those who possess them in those things which depend on piety or sincerity, and even on the knowledge of God, for it is most probable that God communicates more to those who serve him more purely; but there are a multitude of things which depend only on human intelligence, experience, and penetration, and, in these things, those who have the superiority in intellect and in study, deserve to be relied on more than others. The contrary, however, often happens, and many reckon it best to follow, even in these things, the most devout men.
This arises, in part, from the fact that these advantages of mind are not so obvious as the external decorum which appears in pious persons, and in part, also, from the fact that men do not like to make these distinctions. Discrimination perplexes them; they will have all or nothing. If they trust to a man in one thing, they will trust to him in everything; if they do not in one, they will not in any; they love short, plain, and easy ways. But this disposition, though common, is, nevertheless, contrary to reason, which shows us that the same persons are not to be trusted to in anything, because they are not distinguished in anything; and that it is bad reasoning to conclude—he is a serious man, therefore he is intelligent and clever in everything.
It is true, indeed, that if any errors are pardonable, those into which we fall through our excessive deference to the opinion of good men, are among the number. But there is a delusion much more absurd in itself, but which is, nevertheless very common, that, namely, of believing that a man speaks the truth because he is a man of birth, of fortune, or high in office.
Not that any formally make these kinds of reasonings—he has a hundred thousand livres a year; therefore, he possesses judgment: he is of high birth; therefore, what he advances must be true: he is a poor man; therefore, he is wrong. Nevertheless, something of this kind passes through the minds of the majority, and, unconsciously, bears away their judgment.
Let the same thing be proposed by a man of quality, and by one of no distinction, and it will often be found that we approve of it in the mouth of the former, when we scarcely condescend to listen to it in that of the latter. Scripture designed to teach us this disposition of men, in that perfect representation which is given of it in the book of Ecclesiasticus. " When the rich man speaks, all are silent, and his words are raised to the skies; if the poor man speaks, the inquiry is, Who is this? " Dives locutus est, et omnes tacuerunt, et verbum illius usque ad nubes perducent; pauper locutus est, et dicunt, Quis est hic?
It is certain that complaisance and flattery have much to do with the approbation which is bestowed on the actions and words of people of quality; as also that they often gain this by a certain outward grace, and by a noble, free, and natural bearing, which is sometimes so distinctive that it is almost impossible for it to be imitated by those who are of low birth. It is certain, also, that there are many who approve of everything which is done and said by the great, through an inward abasement of soul, who bend under the weight of grandeur, and whose sight is not strong enough to bear its lustre; as, indeed, that the outward pomp which environs them always imposes, and makes some impression on the strongest minds.
Author’s note: Eccles. xiii. 23.
This illusion springs from the corruption of the heart of man, who, having a strong passion for honours and pleasures, necessarily conceives a great affection for the means by which these honours and pleasures are obtained. The love which we have for all those things which are valued by the world, makes us judge those happy who possess them, and, in thus judging them happy, we place them above ourselves, and regard them as eminent and exalted persons. This habit of regarding them with respect passes insensibly from their fortune to their mind. Men do not commonly do things by halves; we, therefore, give them minds as exalted as their rank—we submit to their opinions; and this is the reason of the credit which they commonly obtain in the affairs which they manage.
But this illusion is still stronger in the great themselves, when they have not laboured to correct the impression which their fortune naturally makes on their minds, than it is in their inferiors. Some derive from their estate and riches a reason for maintaining that these opinions ought to prevail over those who are beneath them. They cannot bear that those people whom they regard with contempt should pretend to have as much judgment and reason as themselves, and this makes them so impatient of the least contradiction. All this springs from the same source, that is, from the false ideas which they have of their grandeur, nobility, and wealth. Instead of considering them as things altogether foreign from their character, which do not prevent them at all from being perfectly equal to all the rest of men, both in mind and body, and which do not prevent their judgment even from being as weak and as liable to be deceived as that of all others, they, in some sort, incorporate with their very essence, all these qualities of grand, noble, rich, master, lord, prince,—they exaggerate their idea with these, and never represent themselves to themselves without all their titles, their equipage, and their train.
They are accustomed from their infancy to consider themselves as of a different species from other men—they never mingle in imagination with the mass of humankind; they are, in their own eyes, always counts or dukes, and never simply men. Thus they shape themselves a soul and judgment according to the measure of their fortune, and believe themselves as much above others in mind as they are above them in birth and fortune.
The folly of the human mind is such, that there is nothing which may not serve to aggrandize the idea which it has of itself. A beautiful horse, grand clothes, a long beard, make men consider themselves more clever; and there are few who do not think more of themselves on horseback or in a coach than on foot. It is easy to convince everybody that there is nothing more ridiculous than these judgments, but it is very difficult to guard entirely against the secret impression which these outward things make upon the mind. All that we can do is to accustom ourselves as much as possible to give no influence at all to those qualities which cannot contribute towards finding the truth, and to give it even to those which do thus contribute only so far as they really contribute to it. Age, knowledge, study, experience, mind, energy, memory, accuracy, labour, avail to find the truth of hidden things, and these qualities, therefore, deserve to be respected; but it is always necessary to weigh with care, and then to make a comparison with the opposite reasons; for, from separate individual things we can conclude nothing with certainty, since there are very false opinions which have been sanctioned by men of great mental power, who possessed these qualities to a great extent.
There is something still more deceptive in the mistakes which arise from the manner, for we are naturally led to believe that a man possesses judgment when he speaks with grace, with ease, with gravity, with moderation, and with gentleness; and, on the contrary, that a man is in the wrong when he speaks harshly, or manifests anything of passion, acrimony, or presumption, in his actions and words.
Nevertheless, if we judge of the essence of things by these outward and sensible appearances, we must be often deceived; for there are many people who utter follies gravely and modestly; and others, on the contrary, who, being naturally of a quick temper, or under the influence even of some passion, which appears in their countenance or their words, have, nevertheless, the truth on their side. There are some men of very moderate capacity, and very superficial, who, from having been nourished at court, where the art of pleasing is studied and practised better than anywhere else, have very agreeable manners, by means of which they render many false judgments acceptable; and there are others, on the contrary, who, having nothing outward to recommend them, have, nevertheless, a great and solid mind within. There are some who speak better than they think, and others who think better than they speak. Thus reason regards those who possess it, judging not by these outward things, and does not hesitate to yield to the truth, not only when it is proposed in ways that are offensive and disagreeable, but even when it is mingled with much of falsehood, for the same person may speak truly in one thing, and falsely in another; may be right in one thing, and wrong in another.
It is necessary, therefore, to consider each thing separately, that is to say, we must judge of the manner by the manner, and the matter by the matter, and not the matter by the manner, nor the manner by the matter. A man does wrong to speak with anger, and he does right to speak the truth; and, on the contrary, another is right in speaking calmly and civilly, and he is wrong in advancing falsehoods.
But as it is reasonable to be on our guard against concluding that a thing is true or false, because it is proposed in such a way, it is right, also, that those who wish to persuade others of any truth which they have discovered, should study to clothe it in the garb most suitable for making it acceptable, and to avoid those revolting ways of stating it, which only lead to its rejection.
They ought to remember that when we seek to move the minds of people, it is a small thing that we have right on our side; and it is a great evil to have only right, and not to have also that which is necessary for making it relished.
If they seriously honour the truth, they ought not to dishonour it by covering it with the marks of falsehood and deceit; and if they love it sincerely, they ought not to attach to it the hatred and aversion of men, by the offensive way in which they propound it. It is the most important, as well as the most useful, precept of rhetoric, that it behoves us to govern the spirit as well as the words; for although it is a different thing to be wrong in the manner from being wrong in the matter, the faults, nevertheless, of the manner are often greater and more important than those of the matter.
In reality, all these fiery, presumptuous, bitter, obstinate, passionate manners, always spring from some disorder of the mind, which is often more serious than the defect of intelligence and of knowledge, which we reprehend in others; and it is, indeed, always unjust to seek to persuade men in this way; for it is very right that we should lead them to the truth when we know it; but it is wrong to compel others to take, as true, everything that we believe, and to defer to our authority alone. We do this, however, when we propose the truth in this offensive manner. For the way of speaking generally enters into the mind before the reasons, since the mind is more prompt to notice the manner of the speaker than it is to comprehend the solidity of his proofs, which are often, indeed, not comprehended at all. Now the manner of the discourse being thus separated from the proofs, marks only the authority which he who speaks arrogates to himself; so that if he is bitter and imperious, he necessarily revolts the minds of others, since he appears to wish to gain, by authority, and by a kind of tyranny, that which ought only to be obtained by persuasion and reason.
This injustice is still greater when we employ these offensive ways in combating common and received opinions; for the judgment of an individual may indeed be preferred to that of many when it is more correct, but an individual ought never to maintain that his authority should prevail against that of all others.
Thus, not only modesty and prudence, but justice itself, obliges us to assume a modest air when we combat common opinions or established authority, otherwise we cannot escape the injustice of opposing the authority of an individual to an authority either public, or greater, and more widely established than our own. We cannot exercise too much moderation when we seek to disturb the position of a received opinion or of an ancient faith. This is so true, that St Augustine extended it even to religious truths, having given this excellent rule to all those who have to instruct others: —
" Observe,” says he, " in what way the wise and religious catholics taught that which they had to communicate to others. If they were things common and authorised, they propounded them in a manner full of assurance, and free from every trace of doubt by being accompanied with the greatest possible gentleness; but if they were extraordinary things, although they themselves very clearly recognised their truth, they still proposed them rather as doubts and as questions to be examined, than as dogmas and fixed decisions, in order to accommodate themselves in this to the weakness of those who heard them.” That if a truth is so high that it is above the strength of those to whom it is spoken, they prefer rather to keep it back for a while, in order to give time for growth, and for becoming capable of receiving it, than to make it known to them in that state of weakness in which it would have overwhelmed them.