از عقل و حقیقت - گزیده هایی از 'مقالات، سری اول' اثر 'رالف والدو امرسون' (گیاهخوار)، قسمت ۲ از ۲

Let us continue with excerpts from the essay “Intellect” where the wise philosopher analyses how instinct, intellect and reflection can help us to find truth.

“Everybody knows as much as the savant. The walls of rude minds are scrawled all over with facts, with thoughts. […] At last comes the era of reflection, when we not only observe, but take pains to observe; when we of set purpose sit down to consider an abstract truth; when we keep the mind’s eye open whilst we converse, whilst we read, whilst we act, intent to learn the secret law of some class of facts.”

“We say I will walk abroad, and the truth will take form and clearness to me. We go forth, but cannot find it. It seems as if we needed only the stillness and composed attitude of the library to seize the thought. But we come in, and are as far from it as at first. Then, in a moment, and unannounced, the truth appears. A certain wandering light appears, and is the distinction, the principle, we wanted. But the oracle comes because we had previously laid siege to the shrine. […] So now you must labor with your brains, and now you must forbear your activity and see what the great Soul shows.

The immortality of man is as legitimately preached from the intellections as from the moral volitions. Every intellection is mainly prospective. Its present value is its least. Inspect what delights you in Plutarch, in Shakespeare, in Cervantes. Each truth that a writer acquires is a lantern, which he turns full on what facts and thoughts lay already in his mind, and behold, all the mats and rubbish which had littered his garret become precious. Every trivial fact in his private biography becomes an illustration of this new principle, revisits the day, and delights all men by its piquancy and new charm. Men say, Where did he get this? And think there was something Divine in his life. But no; they have myriads of facts just as good, would they only get a lamp to ransack their attics withal. […]”