The Essays of Arthur Schopenhauer; Counsels and Maxims
Schopenhauer · en
And, as a general rule, it is more advisable to show your intelligence
by saying nothing than by speaking out; for silence is a matter
of prudence, whilst speech has something in it of vanity. The
opportunities for displaying the one or the other quality occur
equally often; but the fleeting satisfaction afforded by speech is
often preferred to the permanent advantage secured by silence.
The feeling of relief which lively people experience in speaking aloud
when no one is listening, should not be indulged, lest it grow into a
habit; for in this way thought establishes such very friendly terms
with speech, that conversation is apt to become a process of thinking
aloud. Prudence exacts that a wide gulf should be fixed between what
we think and what we say.
At times we fancy that people are utterly unable to believe in the
truth of some statement affecting us personally, whereas it never
occurs to them to doubt it; but if we give them the slightest
opportunity of doubting it, they find it absolutely impossible
to believe it any more. We often betray ourselves into revealing
something, simply because we suppose that people cannot help noticing
it,--just as a man will throw himself down from a great height because
he loses his head, in other words, because he fancies that he cannot
retain a firm footing any longer; the torment of his position is so
great, that he thinks it better to put an end to it at once. This is
the kind of insanity which is called _acrophobia_.
But it should not be forgotten how clever people are in regard
to affairs which do not concern them, even though they show no
particularly sign of acuteness in other matters. This is a kind of
algebra in which people are very proficient: give them a single fact
to go upon, and they will solve the most complicated problems. So,
if you wish to relate some event that happened long ago, without
mentioning any names, or otherwise indicating the persons to whom you
refer, you should be very careful not to introduce into your narrative
anything that might point, however distantly, to some definite fact,
whether it is a particular locality, or a date, or the name of some
one who was only to a small extent implicated, or anything else that
was even remotely connected with the event; for that at once gives
people something positive to go upon, and by the aid of their talent
for this sort of algebra, they will discover all the rest. Their
curiosity in these matters becomes a kind of enthusiasm: their will
spurs on their intellect, and drives it forward to the attainment
of the most remote results. For however unsusceptible and different
people may be to general and universal truths, they are very ardent in
the matter of particular details.