They take this affair of quietism for a scholastic subtlety, and it is an important question of religious morals, a question of perfection, that is to say one of those questions in which the smallest errors erected into principles would have the most disastrous consequences for the best.
In all things, whoever corrupts the idea men ought to form of perfection corrupts the good in its first sources. And to exaggerate it, this idea, to make it false, etc., is perhaps more dangerous than to mutilate it and cut into it while leaving it true and truncated.
April 11.
— Proud of the merit he knows or believes himself to possess.
April 12.
The weakness that brings back to order is worth more than the strength that draws away from it (sic); and what deprives us of excess perfects us.
Alas! If somehow you could break harsh fates! (Virgil). Add.DeἘμαυτῷ
April 13.
Necessity can make a doubtful action innocent, but cannot make it praiseworthy.
In style, turns of phrase must connect as well as words. Voltaire said: “The connections must be short.” (The connections between sentences.) He spoke well.
April 16.
The French character is indeed to be communicative.
There are thoughts luminous in themselves. There are others that shine only where they are. One cannot, so to speak, move them without extinguishing them.
Or: of relief in painting. It cannot be moved. Relief in sculpture, on the contrary. Thus only thoughts with much body and form can be successfully isolated.
April 17.
Of the charm (or false charm) born of the disorder of ideas or objects in jesting (such as Voltaire’s.) That: it proves no excellence of soul.
April 18.
This division is not complete; for song itself can be the object of song. And if it then paints a soul in harmony, a talent that rises and descends again through a beautiful scale or a beautiful succession of sounds, an existence that makes merry and plays between earth and heaven, free of cares and given over to a thousand affections that follow one another of themselves, finally an unoccupied intelligence that flies at random like the bee, that stops along its way on a thousand objects without fixing on any, that caresses all the flowers and hums its pleasure.
This painting is as good as another; — and “who with a light voice passes from the grave to the gentle, from the playful to the severe”: that is the merit of a beautiful concerto.
Yes, every truth. And if a painting, whatever it may be, does not leave the soul at rest, it is because it is not perfect enough.
1
The Notebooks of Joseph Joubert, Volume II · Book Mode · Diotimos