Do good by stealth, and blush to find it fame.
Lo! the poor Indian! whose untutor'd mind_x000D_ _x000D_ Sees God in clouds, or hears him in the wind;_x000D_ _x000D_ His soul proud Science never taught to stray_x000D_ _x000D_ Far as the solar walk or milky way.
Interpretation
What this quote means
The quote reflects on the contrast between the uneducated mind and the vast knowledge of science.
In this quote, Alexander Pope illustrates a profound observation about the nature of belief and understanding. The 'poor Indian' represents those who perceive the divine and the natural world through instinct and emotion rather than formal education. While proud science offers a more expansive view of the universe, it may not encapsulate the spiritual connections that the unlearned experience through their simple yet profound interpretations of nature.
Themes
In practice
Example use cases
During a lecture on the intersections of science and spirituality, this quote can be used to highlight different perspectives on understanding the universe.
More from Alexander Pope
All quotes βWhat dire offence from am'rous causes springs, What mighty contests rise from trivial things.
Fair tresses man's imperial race ensnare; And beauty draws us with a single hair.
An honest man's the noblest work of God.
One thought of thee puts all the pomp to flight;_x000D_ _x000D_ Priests, tapers, temples, swim before my sight.
Who breaks a butterfly on a wheel?
Similar quotes
The modern mind always tends to reduce the greater to the lesser rather than seeing the lesser as reflecting the greater.
In the dark colony of night, when I consider man's magnificent capacity for malice, madness, folly, envy, rage, and destructiveness, and I wonder whether we shall not end up as breakfast for newts and polyps, I seem to hear the muffled cries of all the words in all the books with covers closed.
The least strained and most natural ways of the soul are the most beautiful; the best occupations are the least forced.
Anything one does every day is important and imposing and anywhere one lives is interesting and beautiful.
What is the real function, the essential function, the supreme function, of language? Isn't it merely to convey ideas and emotions? Certainly. Then if we can do it with words of fonetic brevity and compactness, why keep the present cumbersome forms?
In the end, the art of hunger can be described as an existential art. It is a way of looking death in the face, and by death I mean death as we live it today: without God, without hope of salvation. Death as the abrupt and absurd end of life