I. The operations of the soul are expressed only by the same terms that express those of the body, and its various parts have no names other than those of our various members.
II. There is no form in the various instruments of mechanics that is not found in the human body. And we accomplish nothing by this means that our body does not accomplish, unknown to us, in our various movements by a method much swifter and much more perfect.
III. The only beautiful human movements are those that tend toward preservation.
IV. If the human species were suddenly to annihilate itself and only a single man remained to survive it, what would that man’s position be?.
62. (Green pocket notebook.)
Whoever lives in uncertain times may be firm, unchanging in his principles, but he cannot be so in all their applications; firm in his plans, in his course, he will not always be able to keep either the same resolutions or the same paths. He must abandon some parts of himself to the winds (that is, to circumstances), let his hair float, and keep his head out of reach. I compare him to those great trees, those walnut trees whose branches come and go during the storm, bending and yielding upward, downward, to the right, to the left, shaken in all their leaves though their trunk remains motionless. In this comparison there is an image of myself that pleases me because, by explaining them to me, it excuses variations I like neither in myself nor in others.
63. (Bundle 16.)
It is certain that the attention we give to the sufferings of others makes us forget our own. Indeed, it is a fact whose cause is physical.
64 (Bundle 8.)
I regard the lives of illustrious men as the most precious monument that survives. The greatest things that have appeared in the human species until now appear there before our eyes, and the best things men have done serve us there as examples. I do not have for the writer the esteem I have for his compilation. Praiseworthy for a thousand virtues, he who would allow neither his old slaves nor the animals maimed by accidents or work in his service to be sold is not praiseworthy for that faintheartedness which leaves him wavering among the opinions of philosophers without the courage to contradict or support them, and which gave him for all celebrated men the respect owed only to those who were virtuous or just. Hence he wrote the life of a wretch like Aratus with the same care as that of Aristides. And he wrote the history of a madman like Alcibiades with an indulgence bordering on approval. I say nothing of his credulity. I am far from reproaching those who record the facts from which the philosopher must compose history for it. But I do not have the same indulgence for that superstitious pettiness which makes a task of vindicating the authenticity of the ridiculous prodigies it was his duty to report faithfully. The principal traits of character and conduct, the maxims and remarkable events that may be read in his lives—that is, everything useful they contain—are gathered in the following discourses. I shall consider them infinitely precious if they make it unnecessary to read all that insipid jumble which disfigures one of the best books in the world.
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The Notebooks of Joseph Joubert, Volume II · Book Mode · Diotimos