"Hitherto we have considered writings in general, and certain things
relating to light literature in particular, towards which I see you are
more especially attracted. Let us now turn to philosophy, though it
must not be supposed that this science is separable from the study of
letters.
"Perhaps you will think that because philosophy is derived from
reason, which among civilised people is usually a stronger power
than the imagination or the affections, the value of philosophical
works ought to be more universally recognised than that of poems,
and other writings which treat of the pleasurable and the beautiful.
It is, however, my opinion that poetry is better understood and
appreciated than philosophy. In the first place, it is certain that a
subtle intelligence and great power of reasoning are not sufficient
to ensure much progress in philosophy. Considerable imaginative
power is also requisite. Indeed, judged from the nature of their
intellects, Descartes, Galileo, Leibnitz, Newton, and Vico would
have made excellent poets; and, on the other hand, Homer, Dante, and
Shakespeare might have been great philosophers. This subject would
require much elaboration; I will therefore merely affirm that none but
philosophers can perfectly appreciate the value and realise the charm
of philosophical books. Of course, I refer to their substance, and
not to whatever superficial merit they may have, whether of language,
style, or anything else. And, just as men are by nature unpoetical,
and consequently rarely catch the spirit of a poem or discern its
imagery, although they may follow the meaning of its words; similarly,
people unaccustomed to meditate and philosophise within themselves,
or who are incapable of deep sustained thought, cannot comprehend the
truths that a philosopher expounds, however clear and logical his
deductions, arguments, and conclusions may be, although they understand
the words that he uses and their signification. Because, being unable
or unused to analyse the essence of things by means of thought, or to
separate their own ideas into divisions, or to join and bind together
a number of these ideas, or simultaneously to grasp with the mind many
particulars so as to deduce a single general rule from them, or to
follow unweariedly with the mind's eye a long series of truths mutually
connected, or to discover the subtle and hidden connection between
each truth and a hundred others; they can with difficulty, if at all,
grasp and follow his working, or experience the impressions proved by
the philosopher. Therefore, they can neither understand nor estimate
rightly all the influences that led him to this or that opinion, and
made him affirm or deny this or that thing, and doubt such and such
another. Possibly they may understand his ideas, but they neither
recognise their truth nor probability; because they are unable to test
either the one or the other. They are like those cold and passionless
men who are incapable of appreciating the fancies and imagery of the
poets. And you know it is common to the poet and the philosopher to
penetrate into the depths of the minds of men, and thence to bring into
light all their hidden emotions, profundities, and secret working, with
their respective causes and effects; thus, men who are incapable of
sympathy with the poet and his thoughts, are also incapable of entering
into the thoughts of the philosopher.
"This is why we see daily many meritorious works, clear and
intelligible to all, interpreted by some people as containing a
thousand undoubted truths, and, by others, a thousand patent errors.
They are attacked in public and private, not only from motives of
malice, interest, and other similar causes, but also because of the
incapacity of the readers, and their inability to comprehend the
certainty of the principles, the correctness of the deductions and
conclusions, and the general fitness, sufficiency, and truth of the
reasoning put forward. It often happens that philosophical writings
of the most sublime nature are accused of obscurity, not necessarily
because they are obscure, but either because their vein of thought
is of too profound or novel a nature to be easily intelligible, or
because the reader himself is too dense to be a competent judge of
such works. Think, then, how difficult it must be to gain praise for
philosophical writings, however meritorious they may be. For there can
be no doubt that the number of really profound philosophers, who alone
can appreciate one another, is in the present day very small, although
philosophy is more cultivated than in past times.
"I will not refer to the various sects into which those who profess
philosophy are divided. Each sect ordinarily refuses to allow
that there is aught estimable in the others; this is not only from
unwillingness, but also because it occupies itself with different
principles of philosophy."