The idea, internal order and plan of this essay
What are the benefits and duties of a person: how to ensure that he comprehends them and is guided by them
1. Order. - People neglect faith; they hate and fear the thought that it might contain the truth. In order to cure them of this, first of all prove that faith does not in the least contradict reason, moreover, that it is praiseworthy, and in this way inspire respect for it; then, having shown that it deserves love, sow in virtuous hearts the hope of its truth and, finally, prove that it is the true faith.
Faith is praiseworthy because it has learned the nature of man; faith is worthy of love because it opens the path to true good.
2. For sinners doomed to eternal damnation, one of the most unexpected shocks will be the discovery that they are condemned by their with your own mind, which was referred to when daring to condemn the Christian faith.
3. Two extremes: cross out reason, recognize only reason.
4. If everything in the world were subject to reason, there would be no place left in the Christian doctrine for what is mysterious and supernatural in it; if nothing in the world were subject to the laws of reason, the Christian doctrine would turn out to be meaningless and ridiculous.
Ways to convert to the true faith: encourage people to listen to the voice of their own hearts
5. Advance notice. - Metaphysical proofs of the existence of God are so different from the reasoning we are accustomed to and so complex that, as a rule, they do not affect human minds, and if they convince someone, it is only for a short time, while a person follows the progress of the development of this proof, but an hour later he begins to think warily whether this is an attempt to deceive him. Quod curiositate cognoverunt superbia amiserunt.
This happens to everyone who tries to know God without calling on the help of Jesus Christ, who wants to commune with God without an intermediary, to be known without an intermediary. Meanwhile, people who knew God through His Mediator also knew their insignificance.
6. How remarkable it is that the canonical authors never proved the existence of God, drawing arguments from the natural world. They simply called to believe in Him. David, Solomon and others never said: “There is no emptiness in nature, therefore God exists.” They were undoubtedly smarter than the smartest of those who replaced them and who constantly resorted to such evidence. This is very, very important.
7. If all the evidence of the existence of God, drawn from the natural world, inevitably speaks of the weakness of our mind, do not treat the Holy Scriptures with contempt because of this; If understanding such contradictions speaks volumes about the power of our minds, honor us for it Holy Bible.
8. I will not talk about the system here, but about the characteristics inherent in the human heart. Not about zealous reverence for the Lord, not about detachment from oneself, but about the guiding human principle, about selfish and selfish aspirations. And since we cannot help but be concerned about a firm answer to a question that concerns us so closely - after all the sorrows of life, where with monstrous inevitability the inevitable death that threatens us every hour will plunge us - into an eternity of non-existence or an eternity of torment...
9. The Almighty leads men's minds to faith by arguments, and their hearts by grace, for His instrument is meekness, but to try to convert minds and hearts by force and threats means to instill in them terror, not faith, terrorem potius quam religionem.
10. In any conversation, in any dispute, it is necessary to reserve the right to reason with those who lose their temper: “What, in fact, outrages you?”
11. People of little faith should first of all be pitied - this very lack of faith makes them unhappy. Offensive speech would be appropriate if it were to their benefit, but it is to their detriment.
12. To feel sorry for the atheists while they are tirelessly searching—isn’t their plight worthy of pity? Brand those who boast of godlessness.
13. And he showers ridicule on the one who seeks? But which of these two should be mocked more? Meanwhile, the seeker does not mock, but pities the mocker.
14. A fair wit is a crappy person.
15. Do you want people to believe in your virtues? Don't boast about them.
16. One should feel pity for both, but in the first case, let this pity be fueled by sympathy, and in the second, by contempt.
The difference between human minds
17. Than smarter person, the more originality he sees in everyone with whom he communicates. For an ordinary person, all people look the same.
“The Essence of Time” is a series of video lectures by Sergei Kurginyan, political and public figure, director, philosopher and political scientist, president of the International Public Foundation “Experimental Creative Center”. The lectures were broadcast on the Internet from February to November 2011 on the websites www.kurginyan.ru, www.eot.su.
Unusual, intellectually deep and sharp, emotionally charged and bearing a vivid imprint of the author’s personality, this series of lectures aroused great interest among the audience and became a “starting impetus” and at the same time a conceptual basis for the formation of a virtual club of S. Kurginyan’s supporters “The Essence of Time”.
The book “The Essence of Time” contains transcripts of all 41 lectures in the cycle. Each of them contains Sergei Kurginyan’s reflections on the essence of the current time, its metaphysics, dialectics and their reflection in key aspects of current Russian and global politics. The central theme of the cycle is the search for ways and mechanisms to overcome the systemic global human impasse in all its dimensions: from metaphysical to epistemological, ethical, anthropological. And, as a result, a socio-political, technological and economic impasse.
The idea, internal order and plan of this essay
What are the benefits and duties of a person: how to ensure that he comprehends them and is guided by them
1. Order. - People neglect faith; they hate and fear the thought that it might contain the truth. In order to cure them of this, first of all prove that faith does not in the least contradict reason, moreover, that it is praiseworthy, and in this way inspire respect for it; then, having shown that it deserves love, sow in virtuous hearts the hope of its truth and, finally, prove that it is the true faith.
Faith is praiseworthy because it has learned the nature of man; faith is worthy of love because it opens the path to true good.
2. For sinners doomed to eternal damnation, one of the most unexpected blows will be the discovery that they are condemned by their own reason, to which they referred when daring to condemn the Christian faith.
3. Two extremes: cross out reason, recognize only reason.
4. If everything in the world were subject to reason, there would be no place left in the Christian doctrine for what is mysterious and supernatural in it; if nothing in the world were subject to the laws of reason, the Christian doctrine would turn out to be meaningless and ridiculous.
Ways to convert to the true faith: encourage people to listen to the voice of their own hearts
5. Advance notice. - Metaphysical proofs of the existence of God are so different from the reasoning we are accustomed to and so complex that, as a rule, they do not affect human minds, and if they convince someone, it is only for a short time, while a person follows the progress of the development of this proof, but an hour later he begins to think warily whether this is an attempt to deceive him. Quod curiositate cognoverunt superbia amiserunt.
This happens to everyone who tries to know God without calling on the help of Jesus Christ, who wants to commune with God without an intermediary, to be known without an intermediary. Meanwhile, people who knew God through His Mediator also knew their insignificance.
6. How remarkable it is that the canonical authors never proved the existence of God, drawing arguments from the natural world. They simply called to believe in Him. David, Solomon and others never said: “There is no emptiness in nature, therefore God exists.” They were undoubtedly smarter than the smartest of those who replaced them and who constantly resorted to such evidence. This is very, very important.
7. If all the evidence of the existence of God, drawn from the natural world, inevitably speaks of the weakness of our mind, do not treat the Holy Scriptures with contempt because of this; If understanding such contradictions speaks to the strength of our minds, read the Holy Scriptures for this.
8. I will not talk about the system here, but about the characteristics inherent in the human heart. Not about zealous reverence for the Lord, not about detachment from oneself, but about the guiding human principle, about selfish and selfish aspirations. And since we cannot help but be concerned about a firm answer to a question that concerns us so closely - after all the sorrows of life, where with monstrous inevitability the inevitable death that threatens us every hour will plunge us - into an eternity of non-existence or an eternity of torment...
9. The Almighty leads men's minds to faith by arguments, and their hearts by grace, for His instrument is meekness, but to try to convert minds and hearts by force and threats means to instill in them terror, not faith, terrorem potius quam religionem.
10. In any conversation, in any dispute, it is necessary to reserve the right to reason with those who lose their temper: “What, in fact, outrages you?”
11. People of little faith should first of all be pitied - this very lack of faith makes them unhappy. Offensive speech would be appropriate if it were to their benefit, but it is to their detriment.
12. To feel sorry for the atheists while they are tirelessly searching—isn’t their plight worthy of pity? Brand those who boast of godlessness.
13. And he showers ridicule on the one who seeks? But which of these two should be mocked more? Meanwhile, the seeker does not mock, but pities the mocker.
14. A fair wit is a crappy person.
15. Do you want people to believe in your virtues? Don't boast about them.
16. One should feel pity for both, but in the first case, let this pity be fueled by sympathy, and in the second, by contempt.
The difference between human minds
17. The smarter a person is, the more originality he sees in everyone with whom he communicates. For an ordinary person, all people look the same.
18. How many people are there in the world who listen to the sermon as an ordinary evening service!
19. There are two kinds of people for whom everything is the same: holidays and weekdays, laity and priests, every sin is similar to another. But some conclude from this that what is forbidden to priests is also forbidden to the laity, and others - that what is permitted to the laity is also permitted to priests.
20. Universality. - The sciences of morality and language, although isolated, are nevertheless universal.
Mathematical cognition and direct cognition
21. The difference between mathematical and direct knowledge. - The principles of mathematical knowledge are quite clear, but are not used in everyday life, so it is difficult to delve into them if you are not used to them, but to anyone who delves into them, they are completely clear, and only a very bad mind is not able to construct a correct reasoning on the basis of such self-evident principles.
The principles of direct cognition, on the contrary, are widespread and commonly used. There is no need to delve into anything, to make an effort on oneself, all that is needed is good vision, but not just good, but impeccable, because there are so many of these principles and they are so branched that it is almost impossible to grasp them at once. Meanwhile, if you miss one thing, a mistake is inevitable: that’s why you need great vigilance to see every single thing, and a clear mind in order, based on such well-known principles, to then draw the right conclusions.
So, if all mathematicians had vigilance, they would be capable of direct knowledge, for they are able to draw correct conclusions from well-known principles, and those capable of direct knowledge would be capable of mathematical knowledge, if they gave themselves the trouble to look closely at mathematical principles that are unusual for them .
But such a combination is rare, because a person capable of direct knowledge does not even try to delve into mathematical principles, and a person capable of mathematics is mostly blind to what is before his eyes; Moreover, having become accustomed to drawing conclusions on the basis of the precise and clear mathematical principles that he has studied well, he is lost when faced with principles of a completely different order, on which direct knowledge is based. They are barely distinguishable, they are felt rather than seen, and whoever does not feel is hardly worth teaching: they are so subtle and diverse that only a person whose feelings are refined and unmistakable is able to grasp and draw correct, indisputable conclusions from what is suggested. feelings; moreover, he often cannot prove the correctness of his conclusions point by point, as is customary in mathematics, because the principles of direct knowledge are almost never lined up like the principles of mathematical knowledge, and such a proof would be infinitely difficult. The cognizable subject must be embraced immediately and completely, and not studied gradually, through inferences - at first, in any case. Thus, mathematicians are rarely capable of direct knowledge, and those who know directly are rarely capable of mathematical knowledge, since mathematicians try to apply mathematical measures to what is accessible only to direct knowledge, and end up in absurdity, because they want to first give definitions at all costs. and only then move on to the basic principles, meanwhile, the method of inference is unsuitable for this subject. This does not mean that the mind refuses them altogether, but it does them imperceptibly, naturally, without any tricks; No one can clearly tell how exactly this work of the mind occurs, and very few can feel that it is happening at all.
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Blaise Pascal
Thoughts. Aphorisms
The life of Mister Pascal,
written by Madame Perrier, his sister, wife of Monsieur Perrier, Councilor of the Chamber of Taxes in Clermont
My brother was born in Clermont on June 19, one thousand six hundred and twenty-three. My father's name was Etienne Pascal, he was the chairman of the Chamber of Taxes. My mother's name was Antoinette Begon. As soon as my brother reached the age when it was possible to talk to him, he began to show an extraordinary intelligence - with short answers, very precise, and even more so - with questions about the nature of things that surprised everyone around him. Such a beginning, which showed brilliant promise, never deceived us, for as he grew older, the power of his reasoning also increased, far exceeding his bodily strength.
My mother died in 1626, when my brother was only three years old, and my father, left alone, redoubled his care for his family; since he had no other sons, the position of his only son and other qualities that he discerned in this child forced him to have such affection for him that he could not decide to entrust his upbringing to anyone else and decided to teach him himself, which he and did; my brother never attended college and did not know any other teacher except his father.
In 1632, my father moved to Paris, moved us all there and settled there. For my brother, who was only eight years old at the time, this move was very useful, based on my father’s plans for his upbringing; his father, no doubt, could not have given him so much concern in the province, where his position and the large company that constantly gathered with him took up a lot of his time. And in Paris he was completely free; he devoted himself entirely to this and achieved such success as only the care of a father so intelligent and loving could bring.
The main rule of his upbringing was that the child should always remain above what he studied; Therefore, his father did not want to teach him Latin until he was twelve years old, so that it would be easier for him. During this time, he did not allow him idleness, but occupied him with all kinds of things that he considered him capable of. He explained to him in general what languages are; he showed that languages obey certain rules of grammar, that there are exceptions to these rules which people have taken care to note, and that in this way a means has been found to make all languages comprehensible from country to country. This general thought clarified his concepts and made him see what the rules of grammar were for, so that when he began to study them, he already knew why he was doing it, and dealt with precisely those things where diligence was most required.
After all this knowledge, his father taught him others. He often talked to him about extraordinary phenomena in nature, for example, about gunpowder and other things that amaze the mind when you think about them. My brother found great pleasure in these conversations, but wanted to know the explanations of all things; and since they are not all known, when his father did not give them to him or gave only those that are usually given and are nothing more than excuses, this did not satisfy him. For he always possessed amazing precision of mind in identifying what is false; one can say that always and in everything the only object to which his mind strove was truth, since he never knew how and could not find satisfaction in anything except his knowledge. Therefore, from childhood, he could agree only with what seemed to him undoubtedly correct, so that when he was not given exact explanations, he looked for them himself and, having thought about some thing, did not leave it until he found it for him. no explanation that satisfies him.
One day at the table someone accidentally hit a porcelain plate with a knife; he noticed that this made a loud sound, which subsided if he covered the plate with his hand. He wanted to find out why, and this experience led him to many others with sound. He discovered so much that at the age of eleven he wrote a treatise about it, which he found very convincing.
His genius in geometry began to manifest itself when he was only twelve years old, and under circumstances so extraordinary that it is worth relating them at length. My father had extensive knowledge of mathematics and used to talk about it with all the people knowledgeable in this science who visited him. But since he intended to teach my brother languages and knew that mathematics has the property of filling and satisfying the mind, he did not want my brother to become acquainted with it, fearing that it might make him neglect Latin and other languages in which he wanted improve it. So he hid all the math books. He refrained from talking to his friends about mathematics in his presence; but despite such precautions, the child's curiosity was aroused, and he often asked his father to teach him mathematics. But his father refused, offering him this as a reward. He promised that as soon as he succeeded in Latin and Greek, he would begin to teach him mathematics.
My brother, seeing such resistance, asked him one day what this science is and what it does. His father answered him in general that this is the ability to build correct figures and find proportions between them; at the same time, he forbade him to talk about her further or think about her at any time. But his mind, which did not know how to remain within the predetermined boundaries, as soon as it learned this simple introduction - that geometry is a means of constructing perfectly regular figures - began to think about it in its free hours; Arriving at the room where he usually played, he took a coal and began to draw figures on the floor, looking for a way to construct a perfect circle, a triangle with equal sides and angles, and other similar things.
He found it all without difficulty; then he began to look for the proportions of the figures among themselves. But since his father hid such things from him so carefully that he did not even know the names of the figures, he had to invent them himself. He called a circle a ring, a straight line a stick; the same with everything else. After the names, he came up with axioms and finally perfect proofs, and, moving from one to the other, he advanced so far in his research that he reached the thirty-second theorem of the first book of Euclid. While he was doing it, his father accidentally entered his room, so his brother did not hear it. In front of his father's eyes, he was so absorbed in his studies that he did not notice his arrival for a long time. It is difficult to say who was more amazed - the son, seeing his father who strictly forbade him from such activities, or the father, seeing his son immersed in such things. But the father’s surprise increased even more when, having asked his son what he was doing, he heard in response that he was looking for such and such things - which was Euclid’s thirty-second theorem.
The father asked what brought him to such an idea, he replied that he had discovered such and such; in response to the next question, he gave several more proofs, and so, going back and using the names “rings” and “sticks,” he reached his definitions and axioms.
My father was so shocked by the greatness and power of his talent that, without saying a word to him, he left and went to Monsieur Le Payeur, his to a close friend and a very learned man. Arriving at him, he remained motionless for a long time and seemed beside himself. Monsieur Le Payeur, seeing all this and, in addition, the tears rolling from his eyes, was seriously alarmed and asked him not to hide the cause of his grief any longer. His father told him: “I cry not from grief, but from joy. You know how I tried to prevent my son from being introduced to geometry for fear of distracting him from other studies. But look what he did."
Monsieur Le Payeur was no less surprised than my father, and said that he considered it unfair to continue to fetter such a mind and hide this knowledge from him, that he should show him the books and not restrain him any longer.
His father agreed with this and gave him Euclid's Elements to read in his leisure time. He read and understood them himself, and he never needed an explanation. While he was reading them, he came up with his own, and got so far that he was able to constantly attend weekly meetings where the most learned people in Paris gathered to bring their work and discuss others.
My brother became very prominent both in discussions and in his own writings, being one of those who most often brought new works there. In these meetings, problems sent from Germany and other countries were often also discussed, and his opinion about all this was listened to more carefully than anyone else: he had a mind so lively that it happened that he discovered errors where others did not. noticed. Meanwhile, he devoted only leisure hours to these studies, since he was then studying Latin, according to the rules established for him by his father. But since he found in this science the truth that he had always so ardently sought, he was so happy that he put his whole soul into it; and no matter how little he did, he advanced so quickly that at the age of sixteen he wrote a “Treatise on Conic Sections,” which was considered such an achievement of the mind that it was said that nothing like it had happened since the time of Archimedes.
All scientists believed that it should be published immediately, because, they said, although such a work will always cause admiration, yet, if it were published in the year when the author is only sixteen years old, this circumstance would add a lot to its merits . But since my brother never had a thirst for fame, he did not attach any importance to this, and this work was never published.
All this time he continued to study Latin and Greek, and in addition, during and after meals, his father talked with him about logic, then about physics and other branches of philosophy, and he learned all about this, having never been to college and without having other teachers neither in this nor in everything else.
One can only imagine how happy my father was at my brother’s success in all sciences; but he did not think that such intense and constant tension of the mind at such a tender age could have a bad effect on his health; and indeed it began to worsen as soon as he reached the age of eighteen. But the ailments he then experienced were minor and did not prevent him from continuing all his usual activities, so it was at that time, at the age of nineteen, that he invented an arithmetic machine, with the help of which one can perform all kinds of operations, not only without a pen or tokens, but without knowledge of the rules of arithmetic, and, moreover, with unerring accuracy. This invention was considered a completely unprecedented thing, since it put into a machine the science that lives in the human mind, and indicated the means to perform all actions with it perfectly correctly, without resorting to thinking. This work tired him very much, not because of the idea itself or the mechanism, which he came up with without difficulty, but because of the need to explain all this to the workers, so he spent two years bringing it to its present perfection.
But this fatigue and the fragility of his health, which had been affecting him for several years, caused him ailments from which he has never gotten rid of since; and he used to tell us that since he was eighteen he had not had a day without suffering. These ailments varied in severity, and as soon as they gave him a break, his mind immediately rushed to search for something new.
In one of these intervals, at the age of twenty-three, having seen Torricelli’s experiment, he then came up with and carried out his own, called “experiment with emptiness,” clearly proving that all phenomena previously attributed to emptiness are caused by the heaviness of air. This was the last work in the earthly sciences with which he occupied his mind, and although he subsequently invented the cycloid, there is no contradiction in my words, because he found it without thinking about it and under circumstances leading to believe that he had no intention of doing so. efforts, as I would say if I were him. Immediately after, when he was not yet twenty-four years old, the Providence of God presented an incident that prompted him to read pious books, and God thus enlightened him through this holy reading, that he completely understood that the Christian religion requires us to live only for God and have no other goal other than Him. This truth seemed to him so obvious, and so obligatory, and so beneficial that he abandoned all his research. And from then on, he rejected all other knowledge in order to indulge in that which Jesus Christ said was only necessary (Luke 10:42).
Until that time, he had been protected from all the vices of youth by the special protection of Providence, and, what is even more surprising, given his mindset and direction of mind, he was never inclined to freethinking when it came to religion, always limiting his curiosity to natural phenomena; and he told me more than once that this rule was added to all the others bequeathed to him by his father, who himself had reverence for religion, instilled it in his son from childhood and punished him that everything that constitutes an object of faith cannot be an object reasoning.
These rules, often repeated to him by his father, for whom he had the deepest respect and in whom extensive knowledge was combined with a strong and precise mind, were so etched into his soul that no matter what speeches he heard from freethinkers, they did not hurt him in any way, and although he was still very young, but he considered them people who professed the false idea that human reason is above all, and who did not understand the very nature of faith.
So this great mind, so broad and so filled with curiosity, so tirelessly searching for reasons and explanations for everything in the world, was at the same time submissive to all the commandments of religion, like a child. And such simplicity reigned in his soul all his life, so that from the time when he decided not to study anything more than religion, he never dealt with complex theological issues and used all the powers of his mind to learn the rules of Christian morality and to improve in it, to which he devoted all the talents given to him by God, and for the rest of his life he did nothing else but reflect day and night on the law of God. But, although he did not particularly study scholasticism, he knew the decrees of the Church against heresies invented by the cunning and delusions of the human mind; This kind of research outraged him most of all, and at this time God sent him an opportunity to show his zeal for religion.
He then lived in Rouen, where our father was busy in the royal service; at that time a certain man appeared there who taught new philosophy, which attracted all the curious. Two young men, from among my brother’s friends, invited him to see this man; he went with them. But in a conversation with the philosopher, they were quite surprised when they were convinced that, while expounding to them the foundations of his philosophy, he drew from them conclusions about matters of faith that contradicted the decisions of the Church. He argued through reasoning that the body of Jesus Christ was not formed from blood Holy Virgin, and much more in the same spirit. They tried to argue with him, but he stood his ground. Having discussed among themselves how dangerous it would be to allow a man with such false views to instruct youth unhindered, they decided to first warn him, and if he persisted, then to denounce him. This is what happened because he ignored their advice; then they considered that it was their duty to report him to Monseigneur Du Bellay, who was then performing the duties of the Bishop of Rouen on behalf of Monseigneur the Archbishop. Monseigneur Du Bellay sent for this man, interrogated him, but was deceived by an ambiguous confession, which he wrote in his own hand and signed; however, he did not attach much importance to the warning coming from the three young men. But as soon as they read this confession of faith, they immediately understood all its omissions, and this forced them to go to Monsignor Archbishop of Rouen in Gaillon. Having delved into everything, he found it so important that he gave authority to his council, and sent a special order to Monsignor Du Bellay to force this man to explain himself on all charges and not to accept anything from him except through the mediation of those who informed on him. This was done, and he appeared before the archbishop's council and renounced all his views; we can say that he did this sincerely, because he never showed resentment towards those to whom he owed this story, which suggests that he himself was deceived by the false conclusions that he drew from his false premises. It is also true that there was no malice intended against him, and no other intention than to open his own eyes and prevent him from seducing young people who would not be able to distinguish right from wrong in such subtle matters. So this story was resolved successfully. And as my brother became more and more immersed in the search for ways to please the Lord, this love of perfection burned within him so much from the age of twenty-four that it consumed the whole house. The father, not ashamed to learn from his son, from then on began to lead a more strict life thanks to constant exercises in virtue until his death, and his death was completely Christian.
My sister, endowed with extraordinary talents, which earned her from childhood such a great name, which is rarely achieved by girls much older than her, was so touched by her brother’s speeches that she decided to renounce all success, which she had loved so much until then, and devote herself entirely to God. Since she was very smart, as soon as God visited her heart, she and her brother understood everything he said about holiness Christian religion, and could no longer endure her imperfection, in which, it seemed to her, she was in the world; she became a nun in a monastery with very strict rules, in Port-Royal-in-the-Fields, and died there at the age of thirty-six, having undergone the most difficult obediences and having established herself in a short time in such virtues as others achieve only over many years.
My brother was then twenty-four years old; his ailments grew worse and worse, and it got to the point that he could not swallow any liquid unless it was warmed up, and then only a drop at a time. But since he also suffered from unbearable headaches, inflammation of the viscera and many other ailments, the doctors ordered him to cleanse himself every other day for three months; he had to swallow all the drugs as best he could, that is, warmed up and drop by drop. It was real torture, and it was difficult for those around him to even look at it; but my brother never complained. He considered all this a benefit for himself. After all, he knew no other science other than the science of virtue, and, realizing that it is perfected in illnesses, he joyfully made all the painful sacrifices of his repentance, seeing the advantages of Christianity in everything. He often said that before illnesses interfered with his studies, and he suffered from this, but that a Christian must accept everything, and especially suffering, because in them Jesus Christ crucified is known, Who should be for a Christian all science and the only glory in life.
Continued use of these drugs, together with others prescribed to him, brought some relief, but not complete recovery. The doctors decided that in order to fully restore his strength, he should abandon all prolonged mental work and, as far as possible, look for opportunities to direct his mind to what would occupy him and would be pleasant to him, that is, in a word, to ordinary small talk; after all, there were no other entertainments suitable for my brother. But how can one make a person like him, whom God has already visited, decide to do this? Indeed, at first it turned out to be very difficult. But he was so pressed from all sides that he finally gave in to arguments about the need to improve his health: he was convinced that this was a treasury that God told us to take care of.
And so he found himself in the light; He visited the court more than once, and experienced courtiers noticed that he adopted the appearance and manners of a courtier with such ease, as if he had been brought up there from birth. In fact, when he spoke about light, he so insightfully revealed all its springs that it was not difficult to imagine how he would be able to press them and delve into everything that is required to adapt to such a life, as far as he would consider it reasonable.
It was the time of his life that was used in the worst way: although God’s mercy protected him from vices, it was still a worldly spirit, very different from the gospel. God, who expected greater perfection from him, was not pleased to leave him in this condition for a long time, and He used my sister to extract him, as He once used my brother to extract her from her worldly activities.
Since she became a nun, her ardor increased every day, and all her thoughts breathed one infinite holiness. That is why she could not bear that the one to whom she, after God, was most indebted for the grace that descended on her, did not have the same grace; and since my brother saw her often, she often talked about it, and at last her words acquired such power that she convinced him - as he convinced her first - to leave the world and all worldly conversations, the most innocent of which are just repetition trifles, completely unworthy of the holiness of Christianity, to which we are all called and the example of which Jesus Christ gave us.
The health considerations that had previously shaken him now seemed so pitiful to him that he himself was ashamed of them. The light of true wisdom revealed to him that the salvation of the soul should be preferred to everything else and that to be satisfied with temporary benefits for the body when it comes to the eternal benefit for the soul means reasoning falsely.
He was thirty years old when he decided to leave his new worldly duties; he began by changing the quarter, and in order to irrevocably break with his habits, he went to the village; Having returned from there after a long absence, he so clearly showed his desire to leave the light that the light left him.
As in everything, he wanted to get to the very bottom in this too: his mind and heart were so structured that he could not do otherwise. The rules that he set for himself in his solitude were the firm rules of true piety: one is to renounce all pleasures, and the other is to renounce all kinds of excesses.
To fulfill the first rule, he first of all began, as far as possible, to do without servants and from then on he always did this: he made his own bed, dined in the kitchen, carried the dishes, in a word, he allowed the servants to do only what he could not do himself. .
It was impossible to do without sensory sensations at all; but when, out of necessity, he had to give some kind of pleasure to the senses, he surprisingly skillfully turned the soul away from him so that it would not have its share here. We never heard him praise any dish that was served to him; and when they sometimes tried to cook him something tastier, when asked whether he liked the food, he answered simply: “They should have warned me in advance, but now I don’t remember about it and, I admit, I didn’t pay attention.” And when someone, following the custom accepted in the world, admired a delicious dish, he could not bear it and called it sensuality, although it was the most ordinary thing - “because,” he said, “it means that you eat ", in order to please your taste, which is always bad, or at least that you speak in the same language as sensual people, and this is not appropriate for a Christian, who should not say anything that does not breathe holiness." He did not allow himself to be served any sauces or stews, not even oranges or sour grape juice, or anything that stimulated the appetite, although by nature he loved all of this.
From the very beginning of his seclusion, he determined the amount of food necessary for the needs of his stomach; and from then on, no matter what his appetite was, he never exceeded this limit, and no matter how disgusting he was, he ate everything that he had set for himself. When asked why he did this, he answered that it was necessary to satisfy the needs of the stomach, not the appetite.
But his mortification of feelings was not limited to just giving up everything that could be pleasant to him, both in food and in treatment: for four years in a row he took various drugs, without showing the slightest disgust. As soon as he was prescribed any medicine, he began to take it without effort, and when I wondered how it was not disgusting for him to take such terrible drugs, he laughed at me and said that he did not understand how it could be disgusting that you accept it of your own free will and having been warned about its bad properties, that such an action should only be carried out by force and surprise. In the future it will not be difficult to see how he applied this rule, refusing all kinds of pleasures of the spirit in which self-love could be involved.
He was no less concerned about fulfilling another rule he set for himself, which follows from the first - to refuse all kinds of excesses. Gradually he removed all the curtains, bedspreads and upholstery from his room because he did not consider them necessary; Moreover, decorum did not oblige him to do so, for from now on he was visited only by those people whom he tirelessly called to abstinence and who, therefore, were not surprised to see that he lived as he advised others to live.
This is how he spent five years of his life, from thirty to thirty-five, in tireless labors for God or for his neighbor, or for himself, striving for ever greater self-improvement; in a sense, one can say that this was the entire period of his life, because the four years that God gave him to live after that were one continuous torment. It was not some new illness that befell him, but a doubling of the ailments from which he had suffered since his youth. But then they attacked him so fiercely that in the end they destroyed him; and during all this time he could not work for a single minute on the great work that he had started in defense of religion, he could not support the people who asked his advice, either verbally or in writing: his illnesses were so severe that he could not help, although he really wanted it.
We have already said that he refused unnecessary visits and did not want to see anyone at all.
But since people are looking for treasures wherever they are, and God is not pleased that a lighted candle should be covered with a vessel, some of the smart people he knew before looked for him in his solitude and asked for advice. Others who had doubts about matters of faith and knew how knowledgeable he was in them also turned to him; both of them - and many of them are alive - always returned satisfied and testify to this day, on every occasion, that it is to his explanations and advice that they owe the good that they know and do.
Although he entered into such conversations only out of charity and was vigilant about himself so as not to lose what he was trying to achieve in his seclusion, they were still difficult for him, and he feared that vanity might force him to find pleasure in these conversations ; and his rule was not to allow such pleasures in which vanity would be in any way involved. On the other hand, he did not believe himself to have the right to deny these people the help they needed. This is where the struggle arose within him. But the spirit of self-abasement, which is the spirit of love, which reconciles everything, came to his aid and inspired him to have an iron belt, all studded with thorns, and put it directly on his naked body every time he was told that some gentlemen were asking him. He did so, and when the spirit of vanity awoke in him or when he experienced some pleasure from the conversation, he pressed him to himself with his elbow in order to increase the pain from the injections and so remind himself of his duty. This custom seemed so useful to him that he resorted to it in order to protect himself from the idleness to which he was forced in last years own life. Since he could neither read nor write, he had to indulge in idleness and go for walks, unable to think about anything coherently. He rightly feared that this lack of activity, which is the root of all evil, would turn him away from his views. And in order to always be on guard, it was as if he had implanted into his body this voluntarily invited enemy, who, gnawing into his flesh, constantly encouraged his spirit to be cheerful and thereby gave him the opportunity for certain victory. But all this was kept in such a secret that we knew nothing, and it became known to us only after his death from one very virtuous person, whom he loved and to whom he was obliged to tell about it for reasons relating to this person himself.
All the time that deeds of mercy did not take away from him, similar topics, which we talked about, he devoted to prayers and reading the Holy Scriptures. It was like the center of his heart, where he found all the joy and all the peace of his solitude. He truly had the special gift of enjoying the benefit of such two precious and holy activities. One might even say that for him they were no different: while praying, he reflected on the Holy Scriptures. He often said that the Holy Scripture is a science not for the mind, but for the heart, that it is understandable only to those who have a pure heart, and everyone else sees only darkness in it, that the veil that hides the Scripture from the Jews also hides it from the bad Christians, and that love is not only the subject of Scripture, but also the gateway to it. He went even further and said that the ability to comprehend the Holy Scriptures comes to those who hate themselves and love the killing life of Jesus Christ. In this frame of mind he read the Holy Scripture and did it so diligently that he knew almost all of it by heart, so that it was impossible for him to give an incorrect quotation, and he could say with confidence: “This is not in the Scripture,” or: “It is there.” ”, and accurately named the place and knew essentially everything that could be useful to him for a perfect understanding of all the truths of both faith and morality.
He had such a wonderful mentality that embellished everything he said; and although he learned many things from books, he digested them in his own way, and they seemed completely different, because he always knew how to express himself in the way that they should penetrate the mind of another person.
He had an extraordinary mentality by nature; but he created for himself completely special rules of eloquence, which further strengthened his talent. It was not at all what they call brilliant thoughts and which in fact are a false diamond and mean nothing: no big words and very few metaphorical expressions, nothing dark, nor rough, nor flashy, nor missed, nor superfluous. But he understood eloquence as a way of expressing thoughts so that those who are addressed can grasp them easily and with pleasure; and he believed that this art consisted in a certain relationship between the mind and heart of those addressed, and the thoughts and expressions used, but these relationships are properly connected together only if they are given a suitable twist. That is why he carefully studied the heart and mind of a person: he knew perfectly well all their springs. When he thought about something, he put himself in the place of those who would listen to him, and, having checked whether all the relationships were present, he then looked for what twist should be given to them, and was satisfied only when he saw beyond doubt that one thing corresponded so much to the other, that is, that he thought as if with the mind of his future interlocutor, that when the time came for all this to be combined in a conversation, it was impossible for the human mind not to accept his arguments with pleasure. He did not make great out of small things, and small things out of great things. It was not enough for him that the phrase seemed beautiful; it also had to correspond to its subject, so that there was nothing superfluous in it, but also nothing missing. In a word, he was so master of his style that he could express whatever he wanted, and his speech always produced the impression that he intended. And this manner of writing, at the same time simple, precise, pleasant and natural, was so characteristic of him and so unlike others that as soon as “Letters to a Provincial” appeared, everyone guessed that they were written by him, no matter how hard he tried to hide it even from your loved ones.
Article I
General concept of a person
I. (This is where natural knowledge leads us. If they are not true, then there is no truth at all in a person; if, on the contrary, they are true, then he finds in them a great reason for humility, being forced to humiliate himself in one way or another. Since he cannot exist without believing them, I would like him, before embarking on the most extensive studies of nature, to take a leisurely and serious look at it, to also look at himself and judge whether he has any proportionality with it when he compares these two objects). Let man consider all nature in its lofty and complete grandeur; let him turn his gaze from the lower objects around him to that brilliant luminary that, like an eternal lamp, illuminates the universe. The earth will then seem to him like a point in comparison with the immense circle described by this luminary; let him marvel at the fact that this immense circle, in turn, is no more than a very small point in comparison with the path that the stars describe in celestial space. But when his gaze stops at this edge, let his imagination go further: he will sooner get tired than nature will be exhausted in supplying him with new food. This entire visible world is just an imperceptible feature in the vast bosom of nature. No thought will embrace her. No matter how much we boast of our penetration beyond the limits of conceivable spaces, we reproduce only atoms in comparison with actual existence. This infinite sphere, the center of which is everywhere, and the circumference is nowhere. Finally, the most tangible evidence of the omnipotence of God is that our imagination is lost in this thought. Let a person, having come to his senses, look at what he represents in comparison with all of existence, let him imagine himself as if lost in this distant corner of nature, and let him from this cell - I mean our universe - learn to appreciate the earth, kingdoms, cities, and itself, in its true meaning. What is man in the infinite? But in order to see another equally amazing miracle, let him examine one of the smallest objects known to him. Let him examine even the smallest parts in the tiny body of a tick, legs with ligaments, veins in these legs, blood in these veins, liquid in this blood, drops in this liquid, steam in these drops; while still sharing these last things, let him exhaust his strength in these ideas, and let the last subject he comes to be the subject of your conversation. Maybe he will think that this is the smallest thing in nature. But I will show him a new abyss in it. I will draw for him not only the visible universe, but also the conceivable immensity of nature within the framework of this atomistic perspective. He will see countless worlds, each with its own special sky, planets, earth of the same size as our visible world; on this earth he will see animals and, finally, the same insects, and in them again the same thing that he found in the first; encountering the same thing in other beings, endlessly, without stopping, he must get lost in these miracles, as amazing in their smallness as others in their enormity. For how can one not be amazed that our body, hitherto unnoticeable in the universe, which, in turn, is unnoticeable in the depths of all nature, suddenly became a colossus, a world, rather everything, in comparison with an unimaginable insignificance? Whoever looks at himself from this point of view will be afraid for himself. Seeing himself in nature placed as if between two abysses, infinity and insignificance, he will shudder at the sight of these miracles. I believe that his curiosity will turn to wonder, and he will be more disposed to contemplate these wonders in silence than to explore them with arrogance. And what, finally, is man in nature? - Nothing in comparison with the infinite, everything in comparison with nothingness, the middle between nothing and everything. From him, as infinitely far from comprehending extremes, the end of things and their beginning are undoubtedly hidden in an impenetrable mystery; he is equally incapable of seeing both the nothingness from which he is extracted and the infinity that absorbs him. Convinced of the impossibility of ever knowing the beginning and end of things, he can only stop at external knowledge of the middle between one and the other. Everything that exists, beginning in nothingness, extends into infinity. Who can trace this amazing course? - Only the culprit of these miracles comprehends them; no one else can understand them. Not paying attention to this infinity, people dared to explore nature, as if having some proportionality with it. It’s a strange thing: they wanted to know the beginning of things and thus reach the comprehension of everything - self-confidence as endless as the very subject of research. It is obvious that such an intention is inconceivable without such self-confidence or without abilities as perfect as nature. Realizing the infinity and unattainability of our knowledge of nature, we will understand that, having imprinted its image and the image of its Creator in all things, it expresses its double infinity in most of them. Thus, we are convinced that all knowledge is infinite in the vastness of its subject; for who doubts that geometry, for example, can present an innumerable number of problems? They are as countless as their beginnings are infinite, for everyone knows that the theorems considered to be the last ones do not have a basis in themselves, but follow from other data, which in turn rely on third ones, and so on endlessly. With the last conclusions that appear to our mind, we act as in material objects, where we call the point beyond which our feelings do not go indivisible, although by its nature it is infinitely divisible. From this double infinity of knowledge we are more sensitive to the infinity of greatness; therefore some have gained confidence in the knowledge of all things. “I will talk about everything,” said Democritus. At first glance it is clear that arithmetic alone represents countless properties, not to mention other sciences. But infinity in the small is much less visible. Philosophers, although I believed that they had achieved this, however, they all stumbled precisely on this. This is where such common titles as: about the beginning of things, about the beginnings of philosophy and others like that came from, although not in appearance, but in reality equally vain with the striking De omni scibili (i.e., about everything knowable - approx. . per.). We naturally consider ourselves better able to reach the center of things than to embrace their circumference. The apparent vastness of the world obviously surpasses us, but since we surpass small things, we consider ourselves more capable of possessing them; Meanwhile, to comprehend nothingness one needs no less ability than to comprehend everything. Its infinity is needed for both, and it seems to me that he who has comprehended the final principles of things could reach the knowledge of the infinite. One depends on the other and one leads to the other. Extremes converge and unite due to their distance and find each other in God and only in Him alone. Let us recognize the finiteness of our being and our knowledge; we are something, but not everything. The particle of existence allocated to us does not give us the opportunity to cognize the first principles born from insignificance, and to embrace the infinite with our gaze. Our mind, in the order of mental things, occupies the same place as our body in the space of nature. Fully limited, this state, occupying the middle between two extremes, is reflected in all our abilities. Our feelings cannot tolerate any extremes. Too much noise deafens us; too bright light is blinding; distances too far and too close prevent us from seeing; both excessively slow and excessively fast speech obscures itself equally; Too much truth surprises us: I know people who cannot understand that when we subtract four from zero, we get zero. The first principles are too obvious to us. Excessive pleasure bothers us; excessive consonance is not liked in music, and too generous charity is annoying: we want to be able to repay the debt with excess: Beneficia eo usque loeta sunt dum videntur exsolvi posse; ubi multum antevenere, pro gratia odium redditur (“Benefits are accepted favorably only when they can be repaid; if they are too great, they give rise not to gratitude, but to hatred” (Tacitus, Chronicle, book IV, 18)). We feel neither extreme heat nor extreme cold. Excessive detection of properties is detrimental, but not sensitive to us. Both the mind that is too young and the mind that is too old are weak; It is harmful to study too little and too much. It is as if extremes do not exist at all for us, and we for them: they elude us, or we elude them. This is our actual situation, and this is what makes us incapable of knowing for sure and knowing absolutely nothing. We seem to be rushing across a vast surface of water, not knowing the way and constantly rushing from end to end. Just as we think to strengthen ourselves on one foundation, it wavers and leaves us; we want to grab hold of it, but it, not giving in to our efforts, slips out of our hands, turns into eternal flight before us. Nothing stops for us. This is our natural position, no matter how disgusting it may be to us: we are burning with the desire to find solid ground, the last unshakable foundation, in order to erect a tower on it and along it to reach the infinite; but our entire building is collapsing and the earth is opening up beneath us to its very depths. Let us stop looking for confidence and strength. Our mind is forever deceived by the impermanence of appearances; nothing can establish the finite between the two infinities that enclose it and escape from it. Having fully realized this, we, I think, will sit quietly, each in the position assigned to him by nature. Since this middle position that falls to our lot is always removed from the extremes, what does it matter whether a person has a slightly greater understanding of things or not? If he does, he looks down on them somewhat. But isn’t it always immeasurably far from the finite, and isn’t the duration of our life just as infinitely distant from eternity, will it last ten years more or less? From the point of view of the infinite, all finite things are equal; and I see no reason why one subject should deserve more attention on our part than another. Any comparison of ourselves with the finite hurts us. If man first studied himself, he would see his powerlessness to penetrate beyond the finite. How can a part know the whole? Perhaps, however, he will strive to know at least parts commensurate with him. But all parts of the world are in such a relationship and connection with each other that it is impossible, it seems to me, to recognize one without the other and without the whole. A person, for example, has a relationship to everything known to him. He needs a place in space, time to exist, movement to live, elements to create his body, warmth and food to nourish, air to breathe. He sees light, feels bodies; everything is in a certain connection with him. Consequently, in order to know a person, you need to know why, for example, air is necessary for his existence; Equally, to become familiar with the properties and nature of air, you need to find out how it affects human life, and so on. Combustion does not occur without air, so to understand one, we need to explore the other. Since, therefore, all things are produced and produce, use the help of others and help others themselves, indirectly and directly, and all are mutually supported by a natural and elusive connection that connects the most distant and different things among themselves, then I consider it impossible to know the parts without knowledge the whole, as well as to know the whole without detailed acquaintance with the parts. To complete our inability to know things is the fact that they themselves are simple, and we consist of two heterogeneous and opposite natures: soul and body. After all, it is impossible to allow the reasoning part of our nature to be unspiritual. If we considered ourselves only corporeal, we would have to deny ourselves even more quickly the knowledge of things, since it is most unthinkable to assert that matter can have consciousness. Yes, we cannot imagine how she would recognize herself. Consequently, if we are only material, then we cannot know anything at all; if we consist of spirit and matter, then we cannot fully cognize simple things, that is, exclusively spiritual and exclusively material. That is why almost all philosophers confuse the concepts of things, speaking of the sensual as spiritual, and of the spiritual as sensual. They boldly tell us that bodies strive downwards, towards their center, avoid destruction, fear emptiness, have inclinations, likes, dislikes, that is, properties that are inherent only to spirits. Speaking about spirits, they consider them as if they were in space, attributing to them movement from place to place, which is characteristic only of bodies. Instead of perceiving the ideas of these pure things, we give them our properties and impress our complex being on all the simple things we contemplate. In view of our tendency to give to all things the properties of spirit and body, it would seem natural to suppose that the method of merging these two principles is quite comprehensible to us. In fact, this is precisely what turns out to be most incomprehensible to us. Man in himself is the most wondrous object of nature, since not being able to know what the body is, he is even less able to comprehend the essence of the spirit; What is most incomprehensible to him is how the body can unite with the spirit. This is the most insurmountable difficulty for him, despite the fact that this combination is the peculiarity of his nature: Modus quo corporibus adhoeret spiritus comprehendi ab hominibus non potest; et hoc tamen homo est (“The way in which the body is united with the spirit cannot be comprehended by man; although this connection constitutes man.” (Blessed Augustine: On Spirit and Soul)). These are some of the reasons for man's thoughtlessness regarding nature. She is doubly infinite, and he is finite and limited; it continues and exists without interruption, but he is transitory and mortal; things in particular perish and change every minute, and he sees them only briefly; they have their beginning and their end, but he knows neither one nor the other; they are simple, and he consists of two different natures. To exhaust the evidence of our weakness, I will close with the following two reflections.
II. Two infinities. Middle We cannot understand either too fast or too slow reading. Too much and too little wine: don’t give him wine - he won’t find the truth; give him too much - same thing. Nature has placed us so perfectly in the middle that if we change the balance in one direction, we will immediately change it in the other. This leads me to assume that there are springs in our heads that are so arranged that if you touch one, you will certainly touch the opposite one. Reasons poorly both at too young and at too mature an age. Addiction to something equally comes from both insufficient and too frequent thinking about the subject. If you begin to examine your work immediately after its completion, then you are too predisposed to it, and long later you see that you have become alien to it. The same goes for paintings. Whether you look at them too close or too far away is equally not good; but there must be one constant point from which the picture can be seen best. Other points of view are too close, too far, too high or too low. In the art of painting, perspective determines such a point; but who will undertake to define it in matters of truth or morality?
III. When playing on a person, they think that they are playing on an ordinary organ; it is indeed an organ, but a strange, changeable organ, the pipes of which do not follow one another in nearby degrees. Those who know how to play only ordinary organs will not produce harmonious chords on such an organ.
IV. We know ourselves so little that sometimes we are going to die in full health, or we seem quite healthy shortly before death, without feeling that a fever will soon develop or some kind of abscess will form. I considered the short duration of my life, absorbed by the preceding and following eternity, memoria hospitis unius dici proetereuntis (“Passing away like the memory of a one-day guest” (Wis. 5:14)), the insignificance of the space I occupy, imperceptibly disappearing in my eyes among the vast spaces, invisible neither to me nor to others - I am horrified and amazed, why do I need to be here and not there, why now and not then! Who put me here? By whose command and purpose was this place and this time determined for me? Why is my understanding limited? My height? My life - why is it limited to a hundred and not a thousand years? For what reason did nature give me exactly such a life expectancy, why did she choose this particular number and not another in eternity, before which all numbers lose their meaning?
