Title: The Art of Thinking Author: Ernest Dimnet * A Project Gutenberg of Australia eBook * eBook No.: Language: English Date first posted. Ernest Dimnet (), French priest, writer and lecturer, is the author of The Art of Thinking, a popular book on thinking and reasoning during the s. Notes from The Art of Thinking, by Ernest Dimnet. Genius has never been supposed to be a particularly good teacher of any art. Sir Walter Scott, when he.
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Whatever we read we must first comprehend and when we have comprehended, criticize.
That most of our mental operations are inseparable from images, or are produced by images. If these could be removed, things would change at once. So it is useless to try. He does not think of his declensions as something difficult or something easy, but as something which everybody has to learn and does learn. The only difference they see between the latter and themselves is accidental and likely to be effaced in an instant: At last Potain reappears: Only read what gives you the gr Very old book that I read long ago and want to re-read someday.
Amazon Inspire Digital Educational Resources. How can the historian of art or literature account for the marvelous growth of such epochs as the age of Pericles or the thirteenth century without exceptionally favorable circumstances preventing the waste of talent? Learn how the way we think can greatly improve the way we live. Just a moment while we sign you in to your Goodreads account. Nobody ought to write who does not write with pleasure.
Both are open to the full light of wide-awake consciousness and need not be investigated through the more psychological process. Half an hour passes without one of these young men getting tired of this scene, however mute, and entirely given up to thought.
Sometimes, very unexpectedly, we become aware of the tingling of our arteries in our heads, even of the fact that we are alive; this consciousness is of no use whatever to us, unless it somehow concurs in keeping us alive, but we are lavish when our Self is at stake.
Readers of Boswell do not doubt that Johnson was an extraordinary conversationalist, but how few students of English literature have a clear notion that a decade or two of the eighteenth century would never have been called the Age of Johnson had it been only for the Dictionary, Rasselas or the Lives of the Poets?
We must know ourselves in order to think for ourselves. He actually says, in dinnet Latin, that the man who informs himself in order to retail his information to others is a prey, while so doing, to an inferiority complex.
Degas had exactly that kind of eyes. Fawcett; Underlining in Book edition Language: This very evening I will begin.
The memory of this one actually made me fidget in my chair, and I had to make an effort to think of something else. So is the purely practical teaching of modern languages prevalent in most schools. Yes, there are languages abbreviating billions of experiences, and there are formulas filling whole libraries.
There must be a superior kind of mental operation, something immaterial resulting in abstractions. We do not differ in this from the dear animals near us. If there are those fortunate enough not to need any of the author’s counsels, I still urge them to read the book if only to make the acquaintance of an experienced and deeply wise personality.
Thought can indeed be called divine, for it is creative. All the time they are at work on a chapter which ought to monopolise their attention, they are anxious over future chapters ernset unborn and even unconceived, and the anxiety throws its shadow over the page just being written.
But no attempt at brightening it with Alma-Tadema pictures can conjure away the declensions, conjugations and modes. In America it is in vain that parents are naturally inclined, and schools are more and more advised to allow children all the mental freedom they can use; conformity is too strongly established and it takes genius to escape from it. Every time we really succeed in watching our mental process we discover the presence of images.
Politicians are despised as roguish valets are by indolent masters. I once took a foreign visitor to the house of a friend of mine where social improvement was the business of the salon. We can be conscious of one reel unrolling itself—with many crazy interruptions—in our inward cinema, and not be quite conscious of another fixed image, visible, but not easily visible, through the film. More than once I have seen the neighboring clergyman drop in during the lesson and play with the petit latiniste as the Tuileries enchanteur plays with the sparrows.
Our French teacher used to say that if we would learn ten words a day, which is nothing, we should know almost four thousand words in a year, which sounds like a lot. Einstein’s denial of the principle that two parallels can never meet is another stupendous proof of intellectual independence. The almanac and the clock ernset supreme, and if they should disappear, civilization as we know it would collapse.
Angellier was seized by his demon and gave us of his best: Who worries if one’s neighbor is better than one’s self at weighing the planets?